Bonus pointless photo:

I dunno. This place just needed a flower.




Going now.



Fill in the direction as best suits you.

The paperless world

When I was in elementary school (three thousand years ago), one of my teachers decided to do a What Will It Be Like in the Year 2000? exercise. All kinds of wonderful things were discussed, but the one that stuck in my mind was that we'd have a paperless world. We wouldn't need paper, you see. We'd have computers instead.

I'm sure that my teacher was thinking of the paperless office (and hey! How did THAT work out?). Odd that we're going to end up with a paperless news world instead.

I'll admit that even though it's a bit sad in a nostalgic sort of way to hear that newspapers are disappearing, it's not going to change the fact that I get my news from the internet (or, in the case of local news, from our mostly useless local television station). I've never really been much of a newspaper person, actually. The only time I've ever subscribed to one was in university, and if I'm going to be totally honest it was more for the daily crossword puzzle and the comics than anything else. Since then -- and even before the rise of internet news -- I've had no desire to waste that much paper daily. Why would I subscribe to something that I'm probably not going to read half of anyway? At least with internet news I can find the stories I'm interested in, ignore the rest, and not feel guilty about dumping the whole thing in the recycle bin at the end of the day.

The ironic thing, of course, is that a lot of the news sites I'll go to are run by the very newspapers that are failing. It'll be interesting to see how they cope with that. Is a newspaper still a newspaper if it depends entirely on internet advertising revenue and doesn't put out a paper edition? Will the currently free news sites start charging a subscription fee? I obviously don't have a clue, but I don't see newspapers lasting as newspapers too much longer.

Ok, you know what annoys me?

Um, a lot of things, really. I just realised that if I really started blathering about everything that annoys me we'd be here for a very, very long time.

And you'd all be more than a little annoyed with me, I'm sure.

Anyway, today's annoyance is about people in SUVs (and PICK-UP TRUCKS, of course. But then you already know how I feel about TRUCKS) who think that parking straight is for everybody but them. I'm parked beside one today, in fact, who's going to make me look like I don't know how to park when s/he pulls away and my car is left there on its own. This particular person's back end (well, the vehicle's back end. Let's be fair) was so far into the spot I squeezed into that I'm absolutely on the line to the other side. So now, no doubt, someone is hating ME for being a spot-hog when all I was trying to do was avoid the idiot.

Geez.

Incidentally, while we're talking parking lot annoyances... I really want to mention backing into angled parking sites. Not ninety-degree sites, no -- you can back into them all you want, if you're that into it -- but the ones that are at a slant. The parking lot here at work is designed as a one-way circle with grassed "islands" in the middle, and it's all angled parking. Anyone who backs into a spot has at some point made a special effort to be going the wrong way around a one-way parking lot. That's the way it works.

And that's just dumb. I'm sorry, but it is.

And usually the backer-inners park crookedly anyway, and that takes me straight back to annoyance number one.

Geez.

And do people who begin sentences with and annoy you?

Yeah, sorry about that.




Or actually not. I really don't give a flying rat's bum about starting sentences with and, to be honest.

Anyway, I think I'll call it a blather before I start to go on about having caught yet another cold (thus the recent absences... and trust me, you didn't miss me) juuust before the start of the snow mould season. I'll go from not breathing and feverish to not breathing period. And after that it'll be poplar pollen. Not breathing for a straight month at least.

Yay.

I should be an interesting shade of purple by then, I expect. I'll try to remember to take pictures.

Pointless photo of the day:

Ok, honestly? I've got nothing, and I need to get to work anyway.

Yes, I'm actually at work.

Consider this just a yes, I still exist post then.

Ok.

Done now.

My head hurts

Call the title a preview. Once spring is actually in the air, you'll be reading those words an awful lot here. Gotta love allergies.

Or is that loathe?

I always get that mixed up.

Anyway, my head hurts today for a non-allergic reason, and it hurts enough that I'm not even going to attempt blatherage. Catch you another time, then.

Pointless photo of the day:

As so often happens when I've been a bit blathery for a couple of days in a row, I've got nothing today.

Also, it ticks me off that if you went out into the yard right now you wouldn't even be able to find the rocks in the pointless photo I took just a couple of days ago. And why? Because they're covered in snow, of course.

Stupid weather.

Ah well. That's it for today. I'm off to... well, I'm not sure what I'm going to do next. Probably hit the highway eventually, but at the moment I'm waiting for more of the ice to melt off.

March.







Riiight.

So...

Again. The photo on the left? What I'd like to be seeing outside. The photo below? What I really see outside.

No, wait. What I really see outside today is snow.

That's right.

We're having a snowstorm.

It's a few hours later coming in than they expected, but it's here now. The snow isn't quite as heavy as they said it might be (knock wood and all that), but the highways are apparently a mess and it looks like I'll be staying where I am for a little while longer.

March. Riiight.

Puts me in a wonderful mood, as you can imagine. The only thing weather like this is really good for is delaying the onset of the good old spring allergies.

Frankly, I'd rather have the allergies. At least you can take pills for them.

----------

As I sit here at the keyboard typing about my snowfall snit, for whatever reason I've been thinking about typing. The act of, I mean. It's entirely due to my mother that I can type at all, you know.

My mother insisted that we take typing in junior high.

I have no idea why, other than she thought it might be useful.

I hated typing class. I didn't know why I needed it, and I'm old enough to have taken typing in a room full of manual typewriters. Erm... do I need to explain typewriters for anyone out there? Well, kids, back in the old days keyboards were called typewriters and word processing involved figuring things out in your brain before putting them directly onto a piece of paper. No, really. It's true. No CPU at all, and in the case of manual typewriters not even any electricity. It was all hand-cranked, back in the days when we walked five miles uphill both ways to get to school...

Those manual typewriters were a nightmare. They built up a lot of finger strength, yes, but they were sooo noisy. The mechanisms were noisy, the keys hitting the papers were noisy, the bells at the end of the lines were noisy, the carriage returns were noisy (seriously, boys and girls. I'm not making this up. We had to manually return at the end of every single line. It's a wonder we survived, really). I'm a pretty noise-intolerant person, and an hour's worth of typing class would leave my ears ringing and my head aching.

But I did it.

My mother wanted me to.

I wonder why.

She was an office manager herself, but I don't imagine that she ever thought either of her kids would be. Our interests were in other areas. And she couldn't have possibly predicted way back then that most of the western world would be spending hours and hours every week in front of computer screens working away at the modern version of the typewriter, could she?

Maybe she could. Maybe she was that far-sighted. I don't know.

And even though I hated typing class, I can't say that I hate being able to type. Not that I'm a great typist overall. I used to be a lot better, but you tend to get some bad habits going when you're no longer thumping around the manual keyboards. I can touch-type, however, and I do use all of my fingers rather than pecking things out so I guess typing class was a good thing in the long run.

And, thankfully, this keyboard doesn't have an obnoxious, ear-ringing bell.





I suppose we've had some progress to cheer about, then.

*ding*

Grumpiness and some stuff about gadgets

Today's pointless photo is... you know what? Maybe I should just make you guess. And don't think the title of the photo is going to help, because I didn't give it one today. If you're desperate to know what it is (for some weird reason), I'll maybe put the info on the photo album. You can find the link on the sidebar if you want to, or if you want to take the roundabout route you can click on the pointless photography slideshow (also conveniently located on the sidebar) and then do your best to navigate to the newer album from there.

Or you can not bother with any of the above. I don't mind either way.

----------

So, grumpiness. Why? Two things. Lack of sleep (SOMEBODY woke up at 1:30 am convinced that she'd already had a full night's rest. She hadn't, in case you wondered), and annoyance with the weather. Guess what, boys and girls? We're under a winter storm warning. Yes, you heard right. Winter storm warning. Snow and winds tonight, probably on top of rain before that.

Stupid, stupid Alberta weather.

It makes me very happy, as you can tell.

It all works out to one cranky, headachey snit in the end, and I'm sure I'm wonderful company to all and sundry at the moment.

Yay me.

----------

Now, gadgets. I don't have too much to say about them, but there's one thing that I wanted to mention. Today's Plinky prompt is asking what gadget is on your wish list, and while I wasn't in the mood to answer on the site (grumpy, remember?) it got me to thinking about what gadget might actually be on my wish list if I actually had such a thing.

iPhone? Nah. My phone does me just fine and costs me a lot less per month to operate.

Video games? Well, I had thought of getting myself a Nintendo DS at some point, but apparently I didn't want one too badly because nothing's been done about it. Must not be too high on the list, then.

Plasma television? My father's t.v. is nice, I have to admit, but I have a pretty good quality flat-screen CRT television (yes, CRT. It came out just before everything went plasma or LCD, so it's not as old as you might think) that works well, and to be honest I really don't mind watching things letterboxed.

Television do-dads? I already have a dvr (and if it ever dies I'll have to go out and buy another one immediately. LOVE that thing) and a home theatre system with a five-disk changer so we're good there. I suppose that if I ever replace the television I'd want to get a blu-ray player or something like that, but I'm not in an especial hurry.

An mp3 player? Honestly, I don't have all that much use for one. When I'm walking somewhere I like to hear what's going on around me (I'm usually walking in the Sanctuary at work if I'm doing any casual walking. It'd be silly to be plugged in there), and at home it's just as easy to pop in a cd if I want to listen to something. Besides, I don't have a computer to download stuff with anyway.

Hmmm.

Should a computer be on my wish list, then?

I know it probably seems pretty odd in this day and age that I don't have a computer, but I don't really seem to need one. My workplace is very tolerant of personal computer use during break time (that explains why my workday blogging is usually at lunchtime, if you've wondered) and on weekends I'm usually here at my father's place and can borrow his computer.

But should I have my own, do you think?

Laptops have gotten pretty inexpensive, true, and if a person shops around it's possible to get an internet connection for not TOO much money. My options would be limited there, though, since I no longer have a land line.

The question is, though, do I want a computer at home?

I probably get a lot more done without one. Like what? Well, I read. I doodle sometimes. Knit, when the mood strikes. Watch stupid things on t.v... Ok, so I don't ever get a WHOLE lot done. But the point is, if I had a computer to waste time with that's probably what I'd be doing. Wasting time with a computer.

I dunno.

One of these days, maybe.

Or not.






I'm going to go enjoy my grumpiness now. Or get some lunch, or something.

Later.

If I absolutely have to have a car...

In an ideal world I wouldn't need to own a car. I'm not in love with my car (it's more like I'm in... well, tolerate), and I'm not a huge fan of driving. I do it because I have to. Given that, I don't suppose it's terribly surprising that given the choice between a sensible thing like a Prius and an absolute waste of space, resources, and money like a pimped-out Escalade, I'd just shrug my shoulders and ask for the keys to the hybrid.

I'd rather somebody invented a personal teleporter, though. Beam me up? Anybody?

Happy spring or something and I so have nothing

It's spring, apparently. This is what spring should look like, isn't it?

Why, then, does spring look so much more like the picture below? Anyone answer me that?

Stupid snow.

Can't it see that everyone's sick of it?

The tracks in the second picture, in case you were wondering, belong to a friend of Max's. Or at least I assume it was a friend. They went straight to the basement window where Max likes to sit, so I'm guessing that Max and his buddy were having some kind of confrontation visit.

It's nice that Max has friends.

I guess.

Anyway, I'm serious about having nothing. Again. Maybe I'll try to put some thought into the blather for tomorrow to make up for this extremely thin week.

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

Made of snow, with my luck.






Later, all.

Pointless post

I've had a busy couple of days and have decided to give the brain a rest, so no blather today. Tomorrow, maybe.

If you need something to do in the meantime, though, I suppose you could watch this...

Living Life with Jeeves

So... where do you head in your personal library (yeah, my collection definitely counts as a library) when you're not in the mood to do any heavy thinking but you still want -- or need -- to be entertained? What gives me a laugh? It's got to be Jeeves and Wooster.

And why? It's Wodehouse. I really shouldn't have to say more, but if you've never had the pleasure of reading P.G. Wodehouse then following along with the misadventures of Bertie Wooster is a really great place to start. These are light, breezy stories, and I tend to think of them almost like comfort brain food for when you're not feeling all that great about things in general. Between P. G. Wodehouse and Jerome K. Jerome (check out Three Men in a Boat if you still need a lift. Erm, but maybe not a literal lift in that particular boat), I'll always find something to smile about.

Oh, I don't know

Should I be posting when all I have is pissedoffedness?

Er, and a sunset?

I have no idea why you're getting a sunset today. I really don't.

Anyway, back to my attitude problem. I'm ever-so-slightly peeved at the moment. And itchy.

It all started with the crappy weather we had to deal with while my father was away. The weather, by the way, was entirely not his fault. I say this just so you know that I'm not blaming him for anything other than having a driveway.

The driveway which needed repeated shovelling while he was away.

I may have mentioned five or six thousand times that I don't do well with being out in the cold. It's as much fun as it sounds, yes, but I do ok (ish) as long as I'm dressed well.

Hard to cover up an entire face while shovelling, though.

I had thought the repeated reactions were my biggest problem that week, but it turns out that I was wrong. I seem to have got a bit of skin damage (we're not talking full-on frostbite, here; more like a frostnip) on my cheeks and nose when it was so cold and windy. I've been dealing with the redness and peeling ever since.

With a moisturiser.

That I've been using for years, I should state for the record. Non-allergenic sensitive skin blah blah blah facial moisturiser.

Well, yesterday I had a headache. It started off fairly annoying, and then got progressively worse throughout the day. Meant I got absolutely nothing done on Sunday, which was frustrating. There were things I wanted to get done that juuust didn't happen.

Towards the end of the day I noticed the rash, of course. On my face, and just on my face. It's still there right now, under my make-up. Itchy as hell. You know what happened, I expect.

I reacted to the damned moisturiser.

And yes, I'm pretty sure that it's responsible for the headache too. My head's still not quite right, but it's better than it was yesterday.

I'm a little annoyed by all of this.

Bet you hadn't guessed.

Sometimes it's just a pain in the ass (or an itch in the face) to be the sensitive type.





Anyway, this it the part where I inform the Toronto office that I'll be away from MY office for the next couple of days since I'm working off-site. That means no posting from me. I don't suppose she has any more birds lurking in her trees?

I won't mention the bats in her belfry. I'm nice that way.

Bird brain

Birds are small creatures.

Birds therefore have small-ish brains (though I'm certain they are the right size for birds).

Due to the size of the brain of a bird like the Cardinal seen here (nice segue, don't you think), they would have little to say.

Me, too.

Hey Toronto is still on the map, yes

So let's see. A cool bird photo, buds springing forth, soggy damp ground that smells like spring, the sound of the male Cardinal in the tree off to the left .... the gross mess of the geese in the park, the dirty remnants of snow ... yep, Toronto is still on the map and let me tell you there is no curb appeal here at this time of year.

I have been conspicuously absent. If you return on the morrow, it may all be explained.

Whaddya mean you didn't notice I was gone? I thought everyone loved a woman of mystery.

I'm a naturalist and I'm ok

My job? Is weird. I admit it. I work as a naturalist/interpreter at a nature centre, but when I tell people that they immediately assume that I either spend all my time looking at birds through binoculars or that I speak several languages.

Sorry, folks. I'm not THAT kind of interpreter.

And I'm not a birder either.

I suppose that I'm more or less a teacher. I teach people (mostly school kids, but not always) about nature, general science, and sometimes history. And since I'm not in a traditional classroom, the teaching can be a bit more flexible.

And, occasionally, a bit weirder.

But that's a good thing.

At least I'm pretty sure it is...

Still don't have much of anything

I think the change in weather is messing with my brain a bit. And apparently not just mine. Everyone around here seems to be feeling draggy.

Figures, right? The weather's actually trying to do what it's supposed to be doing this time of year, and we all get screwed up because of it.

Oh well.

I really should have something to say since I probably won't be posting in the next couple of days (unless I can figure out how to do it by sheer willpower or ESP or something, since I'm not planning to be around a computer), but it seems like I wore out my blather somewhat while I was at my father's place.

I guess I'm just not in the mood for forced blather at the moment, so let's call it a post and be on our way.

That'd be me and alllll the voices....

Catch you in a day or two.

A great big pile o' nothing

No photo today because I don't have my nerdstick with me. No post today because I'm back at work (shocking, I know) and I've been doing some work-related-type things (shocking as well, I'm sure). No Plinky today because the prompt didn't interest me.

Later, all.

Nerves

Not much in the mood for blather today, I'm afraid. You see, my father gets back today and I'm a bit nervous for him.

I should explain the OLF world of unnecessary nerves, I guess. Unnecessary being the necessary word there, and what takes me straight down the road to OLFville. You see, most normal people might be a little nervous about his flight or something like that. I'm not. In fact, the website shows that his flight left early and is expected to land in about five minutes or so. All good there.

No, I'm not worried about the flight. Being in prime OLF mode, I'm rather stupidly worrying about his car.

That's right, the car.

It's been pretty cold here and I'm worried that his car might not start because it hasn't been plugged in.

A true disaster if there ever was one, I'm sure you'll agree.

After all, if his car doesn't start he might have to...

Um...

Wait a little bit until things warm up later in the day. Or ask for someone to come and pick him up.




Yes, yes, I know that it's a really stupid thing to worry about. But that's all part of the fun of being an obsessive little freak, or at least my particular version of it. You spend a good deal of your time worrying about really stupid things, and then you spend the rest of it wondering why you spend so much time worrying about really stupid things.

It's a fun game, and one that I'm very, very good at.

Ah well. I'm sure (read that as: trying to convince myself and not really succeeding) that everything will go off without a hitch and that in a little while I'll be berating myself yet again for ever thinking otherwise.






Anyone else want to take a turn at being me? It can get a bit taxing, you know. I think I may need a holiday.

Gee, you're prompt...ed

Below you'll see a post that was suggested by a prompt site called Plinky. On the other blog you'll see a post that was suggested by a prompt site called Illustration Friday. Both sites (and others like them) exist partly to be the pointy stick that helps get people creating and partly for social networking.

And, no doubt, they both exist in the hope of increasing their own hits. Nothing wrong with that, of course; just stating the facts here.

I like prompt sites, but at the same time I'm not sure that I should. It's nice to have someone else come up with the ideas now and then, but if I can't come up with my own ideas should I really be wasting blogging space? I don't have a problem with the internet becoming the place where everyone has a voice, really, but if I have nothing to say should I be raising that voice just for the sake of hearing (well, reading) my own noise?

I don't know, obviously.

And I should get some lunch, even though weather like we're having now (-36C when I got up this morning. Seriously. And that's not including the windchill) kind of takes my appetite away.

And my enthusiasm.

MARCH, RIGHT?





Yeah, I believe that.

Makes a person want a pointy stick for more than creativity, I can tell you.

It slices and... erm... slices...

So, this is my first go at posting to the blog from Plinky. The way this works is that you're given a daily prompt to write about. I've written what you see below on the other site and had it cross-posted here.

Not sure how long I'll keep up with this, but I thought it might be worth a try. Anyway, here's what came up at the thought of infomercials:

IMG_1526 by inspector_81

The closest I can come to saying that I've bought something from an infomercial is admitting that I do own a Ginsu knife. In my own defence, though, it was my mother who bought it... and not by calling the ol' 1-800 number. We were at an exposition, and I think she got drawn in by the spiel, demo, and promise of "if you buy now we'll include all of these amazing items as a bonus." Part of the bonus was an extra knife, and that one went to me. I've had it for years, and I still use it. When I don't want to muck up one of my good knives, I mean.

My father owns one of Ron Popeil's rotisserie ovens. It's not too bad, really. Not that I'd run out and buy one for myself, but it does up a decent chicken.

Come follow follow follow...

My apologies (or should that be apple-oghies? And no, I have no idea why my head went there just now) to anyone who knows the round I referenced in the title and now has it turning around and around in his or her head. Sorry to drive you mad.

Well, sort of.

Before I go on, today's photo has nothing to do with anything except the fact that it's FRIGGING COLD OUTSIDE. Just wanted to make that perfectly clear.

----------

So, what's up with all the follows? Well, some time ago in an attempt to... I don't know, become Facebook or something, Blogger added a Following option. I follow a few blogs (mostly what you see on the sidebar, actually), and if you're desperate to see which ones you can click on my name and look at my profile (also, oddly enough, on the sidebar. Is there anything the sidebar can't do?).

There's also a widget you can add to your (gasp!) sidebar to show people who's following you. You may notice that there isn't one on the sidebar here.

As of today, though, there's one on the infamous Old Blog.

And why there?

Well, since that blog's not as active as this one I sometimes use it when I want to experiment with gadgets and widgets. Usually I'll put something on just to see how it looks, and if I like it I might leave it there or (more usually) delete it and add it here instead.

I tend to keep my toys here.

Anyway, today I felt like playing with a few things on the old blog, and out of sheer whateveritude I ended up briefly adding the Following widget.

I thought it was going to be briefly.

Much to my shock, though, it showed that I actually have a follower for that blog.

I wasn't expecting that, because Shrubbery is just the place where I put my doodles, bad poetry, and occasional fling with the Christmas Play-doh (blame the Toronto office for that last bit). Sometimes I use the blog to post things to Illustration Friday, like I mentioned yesterday, but other than that it's pretty slow over there. And weird over there.

But it's being followed all the same. I guess at least one person in the world can handle a bit of slow weirdness.

So why haven't I added the Follow the Faster Weirdness widget to this blog? I... dunno. Maybe I should, but it seems like I already have a fair amount of crap garbage on the sidebar here already.

I suppose you could let me know if you'd like to follow the weirdness over here, though. It doesn't take much to add the widget.

In the meantime, I'm thinking of trying out Plinky for no real reason. Anyone out there had any luck with it?




Ah well. We'll see.

Augh.

I said yesterday that I'd try to post a pointless Penny photo today.

Well, here she is. Complete with the world's ugliest quilt and the world's ugliest sweater. Hey, whatever keeps you warm.

That's about all you're getting from me today. What doesn't keep me warm is the stupid weather we're having (March? Really?), and since I had to go outside to check the neighbour's house I've already had a reaction this morning. That, plus the fact that the temperature's supposed to plummet (yet again) and that we've had to adjust the clocks when it's STILL SNOWING OUTSIDE puts me in a baaaaad mood.

Best not to blather, then.

If you want something else to do since you're not going to be enlightened by me today, why not check out Illustration Friday if you haven't already? I'm in there somewhere this week. First time in a while. You can find my other pseudoartistic stuff on Shrubbery, by the way.

You know... if you're the glutton for punishment type.






Going now.

Won't say where.

What do you name a cat?

This is Max. Fresh off the camera just this morning. He's only pretending to be sweet, you know. In real life he's very much a buddy and all of that stuff, but he's also very good at getting into things that he really shouldn't.

He's a busy little boy, Max. Even though the cat food commercials will do their best to convince you that he's a senior citizen now.

Frankly, I act more like a senior citizen than he ever does.

Anyway, here's the question for today. Is Max a good name for a cat like Max? I named him, you know. Before he arrived (from someone's farm. He was a barn kitten) we didn't know if they'd bring us a male or a female, and my mother had only picked out a girl's name. Mandy. Ugh. My apologies to anyone out there named Mandy -- or with a cat named Mandy -- but I'm more than a little glad that Max turned out to be a boy.

And where did the name Max come from? No clue, really. Just before they brought him to us my grandmother had asked what the cat's name was going to be, and my mom had said Mandy if it's a girl. "But what if it's a boy?" made me blurt out Max before my mom had a chance to recall any other Barry Manilow songs... so Max it was when the squealing little puffball was brought to the door.

Man, he could scream for a tiny thing.

He's quieted down some since. The other cat (whom we used to call Meep in fun, since that's the only sound she ever seemed to make) got louder as she got older, but not Max.

The other cat, by the way, is Penny. Maybe I'll find a photo of her for tomorrow. Penny got her name because that was the colour of her eyes when she was a kitten. They've got a bit more green in them now, but I think it's a little too late to rename her Old Copper. Besides, I call her Lumpy most of the time anyway.

So are these good names for cats? I know T.S. Eliot had his ideas about that sort of thing, but in real life are Penny and Max decent names for cats? I have to admit, this family doesn't have a history of terribly creative names for pets. The various dogs were Snoopy, Barney, and Rikki (from a misheard song lyric, of all things), and the cats were Scruffy, Twerpy, Freddie, Candy, and Taffy. The last two were around at the same time... I guess we were having a sweet-tooth moment when they got named. We also had a Humphrey, but he was actually my aunt's cat so none of us get credit for the name there.

Reading that list, I notice that Max is sort of the odd cat out. Apparently pet names in our family are supposed to end in a y. Ah well. Sorry, Maxie.

So, pretty lame names? I don't know. They serve their purpose, they're not too cute, and since I tend to call animals by nicknames most of the time (not sure how I got into that habit, since I don't do it with people) I suppose it shouldn't really matter in the end.

I'd make some joke here about not coming when they're called anyway, but in fact both of our cats are very good at answering to their names.

Maybe it does matter, then.

I'm sure I don't know, and since I have other things to get done this morning I don't really have time to come to a conclusion either way.






You can, if you need one.

And finally...

Yeah, this is the last old photo. I promise.

Oh, and excuse the flash. I wasn't about to take the picture out of the frame just for this nonsense.

So who is it this time? Anyone want to take a guess?




It's my father.

Aw. Isn't he cute? And you've just gotta love the good old-fashioned short-pants look.

----------

Anyway. I've got nothing but whinginess today, since yesterday's weather was extremely unkind to me. Yesterday, by the way, the 5th day of freaking MARCH, brought us blowing snow and windchills of nearly -30C. March. Riiight. This morning when I got up it was damned near -30C without the windchill.

March.

Riiight.

Now, normally on a day like yesterday I'd just sit inside, watch the snow fly (horizontally. This stuff wasn't even falling, the wind was so strong), and thank Whomever for the invention of the furnace. Yesterday wasn't a normal yesterday, though. See, I'm house-sitting (did I mention?), but this time of year house-sitting for my father means looking after not one but two houses. One of his neighbours is a snowbird, and my father collects the mail and keeps an eye on the place for him while he's gone.

This created a couple of problems for me.

First problem was that I shouldn't have even BEEN outside with that kind of wind blowing. I still haven't shovelled the walk (one of the few advantages of the wind was that the driveway very nearly cleared itself) because it's too cold for me to be out for any length of time.

The other problem was the superboxes... or Community Mail Boxes, as I see Canada Post is now calling them. We don't get door-to-door delivery service here, unfortunately. Mail is delivered to a "super" box (do you suppose sarcasm avoidance was the reason that they changed the official name of the things?) down on the corner of the street. Sadly, my father and his neighbour aren't on the same superbox, so getting the mail yesterday meant trudging up the (unploughed) hill to get the neighbour's mail, stopping briefly at his house to drop off the mail and check to make sure the furnace was still working, trudging down the (still unploughed) hill to get my father's mail, and then trudging back up the (unploughed! Did I mention unploughed?) hill to my father's place.

All of this led to me being outside far too long in too much cold. I spent the rest of the day feeling miserable -- and itchy -- and I still have the reaction headache.

Yippee. Happy happy me.

Environment Canada is doing its best to try to convince me that today it will warm up to -5C, but I'm still planning to wait until at least mid-afternoon before I so much as allow a single nostril to leave this house.

Hmmm.

Maybe I could just send the single nostril and keep the rest of me inside?





I know, I know. But a person can dream, can't she?

March.





Riiight.

Another pointless album photo

You have to admit that it's pretty much the height of pointlessness to be taking photos of a photo album.

Today's edition? Well, one of these people is my grandfather.

Hint: it's not the one in the skirt.

That's about all I've got for the moment. The weather outside is lousy, and that plus a weird night's sleep equals someone has a headache. I'm going back upstairs to get something to eat now. I hope you've enjoyed looking at someone else's ancestors.

Or not. Can't say I mind either way, to be honest.

Some kid

Ok, so it's me.

The pictures aren't recent. You know, in case you wondered.

And speaking of wondering, is anyone wondering why I'm posting a shot of an old photo album?

Anyone?

Come on, someone out there must be at least mildly curious.






Ok, well, since you asked nicely... there are two reasons for the shot of the old photo album. The first is that I rarely if ever put photos of myself on the blog, and I thought you might like to see what I look like. Looked like. A while ago.

The second reason is that I'm house-sitting this week. And cat-sitting, I guess. Not to mention the fish (especially because I consider them basically furniture). My father's off to visit his grandson (and I imagine he'll visit the brother at the same time. My sister-in-law as well, come to think of it), so I'm holding down the fort back home.

Literally back home.

This is the house I grew up in.

It used to really bug me that we never moved when I was a kid. I don't know what I thought moving was since I'd never experienced it, but I used to get jealous when my friends would talk about moving to a new house or a new town or even a new province. My family, though, just stayed put. We were good at staying put. Still are, apparently.

We're still here, obviously. Or my father is.

Or usually is.

Did I mention that I'm house-sitting?

Anyway, the next week will find me in the house I grew up in, and the blog will probably find me moaning about the fact that I miss my own stuff. Yeah, you've been warned. You may also get a tiiiny bit of nostalgia here and there, but don't expect anything as exciting or revealing as *gasp* baby pictures again. That's a once-in-a-blatherage occurrence, I promise you.

You're welcome.

Come to think of it, maybe I should have posted the one of me smoking my father's pipe...





Nah. You don't need to see how early the world corrupted me. I'd imagine that you'd already figured that out on your own anyway.

Dog gone

Today's pointless photos are not of the dog.

Bet you hadn't noticed.

I'll maybe post one of her tomorrow if I can find one I like (she hated having her picture taken), but for today we have special guest pointless photos taken by my father. He was kind of surprised to see an unbirdfeederable bird show up in a place that's more usually a chickadee haunt, so he took some pictures. When I saw them, I in turn was surprised. We don't normally find these in the yard.

What do you want to bet that it doesn't come back, now that I'm here to see it for myself?

----------

Anyway. The dog.

We don't have one anymore.

I could just write The End here and save a bit of blather, but what the hell. The dog was getting on a bit for a big dog (husky/malinois cross, of all things), and then she got sick. I'm not in the mood to go into it, really, so let's just say she couldn't get around on her own anymore.

Not a pleasant life for a normally active dog, to not have anything to enjoy but food.

Long story short, she was getting worse and it was definitely time for her to go, so now we don't have a dog.

I'm not sure how I feel about that, really.

On the one hand, it was definitely time for her to go. No question in my mind. That makes it a lot easier to deal with, and I can promise you that I haven't cried about the whole thing at all.

That's... unusual for me. I'm an admitted crier. I've been known to cry at commercials, fer pity's sake.








Only the really good ones, though.

Um, back to the dog. Or lack of same.

On the other hand... well, it's the dog. And the dog's gone. There's no reason to leave a bit of dinner on the plate now (I used to kid my father that they should have named the dog Sumfer, as in some for the dog). There's no dog to eat snowballs when you throw them at her (um, yeah), and there won't be a dog to chase the ground squirrels in the field down the hill next spring.

That's... weird.

Ah well.

She was a good dog and she had a good life... and in the end what more can you ask, really?





Bye, dog.

----------

Edited the next day because this post seemed really weird without a photo of the dog, so... here's Rikki:

That's better.

But I did warn you that she didn't like to have her picture taken.

Um, yeah

Somewhat unplanned disappearance there.

Oops.

Call it a combination of the weather and a bad... well, let's call it a cold. It's got to be something of the cold variety, at any rate.

Yes, I still feel like crap. Thanks for asking.

Anyway, no real blather tonight. I have a few things to catch up on. Tomorrow, maybe, I'll take a shot at blatherage.

In the meantime, have yet another out-of-season flower.

Yay me for lack of inspiration.