Chapter 1399: Wherein Dee is weird about texture

I found myself (well, not really found myself. I knew where I was at the time) doodling a quick sketch of a bush-cranberry leaf on my lunch hour, which I've since posted for this week's Illustration Friday prompt.

Which, erm, wasn't texture. But that's not important.

What was important was that I was drawing something that had an interesting texture on paper that definitely didn't. I'd decided that I wasn't in the mood to waste drawing paper or get out a sketchbook today, so I just grabbed a scrap piece of photocopier paper and used that instead.

Man, I hate drawing on photocopier paper. It's so... boring. Boring is the only word I can really use for it. No tooth; no real feel to it. I guess I'm a little bit of a paper snob, but I can't imagine using that stuff on a regular basis.

Just like I can't imagine doodling regularly with a ballpoint pen or an HB pencil.

Oh sure, I've done it. Everybody's done it. If you're any sort of doodler at all, you'll doodle with anything on hand. My problem, I guess, is that since -- oh, let's say since junior high -- I've had either the good fortune or the misfortune to find out that there's a very big difference between drawing with office supplies and drawing with art supplies.

The second option feels sooo much better.

Feel is a huge thing for me when I'm attempting to make art. It's probably one of the big reasons that I'll never be a painter. Painting is too far removed from the feel of the paper, the feel of the pencil, and the feel of the pen. Good paper is interesting. It should make you want to use it (I've mentioned before that I have a perfectly good field sketchbook that never gets used because the paper is so, so boring). A good, soft pencil? Is lush. Makes you want to get in there with your hands and do some smudging. I can vividly remember the first time I used a 2B pencil; it was a real WOW moment. Like finding out that there's more to chocolate than Dairy Milk, really. The feel was so much more inviting than the school pencils I'd grown up with. And when I discovered that there were even softer pencils out there? Well, it led to several years worth of me up to my elbows in graphite smudges and vinyl erasers, trying to do as much with toning as I possibly could.

I'm sort of past that stage now, but I still have my toned-paper moments now and then.

I could say the same sort of thing about trying out sketching pens as opposed to ballpoints, but the fact is that I've never, ever liked doodling with ballpoint pens. I know that there are plenty of good artists out there who make fantastic pieces with nothing but ballpoints, but to me a ballpoint feels sterile.

Missing the texture again, you see.

I guess I need interesting textures to keep things interesting, in the end. Shouldn't be a surprise for an olf with a short attention span, I suppose, but if nothing else it's furnished me with a blog post at the end of a largely blogless week (I was busy. Sorry about that).

And that's a good thing, since I likely won't be around at all for the next couple of days.






You're getting used to that by now though, right?

Yeah, I figured. See you in a day or two.

Taking a quick pointless photo moment

A quick one, yes, mostly to prove that I'm capable of posting several days in a row even if the posts are a big pile of internet nothing.

Like much of the internet. I guess I shouldn't be so hard on myself.

Anyway, still busy, but I thought I'd at least take the time to say that I like lilies. I like the radial symmetry. It appeals to my pattern mania.





Hmm. That gives me a thought about this week's Illustration Friday word. Maybe I'll get a chance to post something for that tomorrow after all...

Pointless photo and this is really all I have time for of the day:

Sigh. Expect more of the same tomorrow.

I warned you this would be a boring week for the blog...

Pointless photo of the day:

And that'll be it for today.

Yeah, 'fraid so. My head's so not into it at the moment.





Enjoy the rose, though.

Feels...

... like I'm not really in the mood to blog, to be honest. I had an inkling of a topic, but I can already feel my lack of enthusiasm for it at the moment so there's no point in even starting. I'll save it for another day, I guess.

In the meantime, here's a balloon. It was outside my apartment window the other week, which was a surprise. We're not exactly known as a hotbed of balloon activity in the city where I live.

I'd completely forgotten about taking this picture until I went to look at some shots around the yard I'd taken yesterday. So... here it is

The end?

Yeah, I think so. Even random typing doesn't seem to be getting me going today. A shame, too, because I have some busyness coming up this week so blogging's going to be patchy at best. I'll do my best, but expect things to be a bit slow around here for the next few days.

I know, I know. Like they aren't usually...

Is it all right if I complain about having a headache for a moment?

I have a headache. Woke up with one, which is always such a cheat.

I also have a program in about two hours. A program that, since it's a guided walk, by definition has to be out on the trails.

The trails, which are flooded and swarming with mosquitoes.

Want to make a bet that I end up with a group of people who aren't into slapping and wading?

Ahhh well. What can a person do but roll with it? Well, a person can complain, too. I'm good at that part. As my two fans know all too well.





Has anyone out there figured out yet that I don't have a post topic? Yeah, I thought so. Later then, everyone. I should get back to my prep anyway.

My slapping and wading prep...

And the reason that I'm not really posting today is...

Because I got up far too early for an event.

An event that ended up being cancelled.

And why was it cancelled, boys and girls? Three guesses; first two don't count.





Yep. Rain.

The event was cancelled, I went in to the office instead (three of us have been here since before seven o'clock. Seriously), and now? I need a nap.

It's ok, though. Coming to the office at seven equals Dee going home pretty darned soon. And equals not much of a post, but if you'll scroll down you'll see that I've been wordy enough lately for three of me. I'm sure you can find some reading there if you haven't already.

Later, all.

The stuff in my desk

And no, I don't keep poppies in my desk. It'd probably be more fun if I did, but there you go.

My desk here at work is a bit of an oddity. It's one of those L-shaped corner dealies with a set of drawers on either side, but that's not the odd part. Nor is it odd that one side of it is almost entirely taken up with reference books (well, towards the wall anyway. There is still a work surface, honest). No, the odd part is that so much of the stuff in the desk (as opposed to on the desk) isn't really mine.

Long story on that one. It starts with me inheriting the desk from the person who used it before. It was never supposed to be my desk, really; Wheat asked me to move in to the office after a summer of being pestered by an attention-needy seasonal worker who helped himself to the desk even though it was still almost completely piled up with the boxes of the the previous inhabitant's belongings (we'd had to move everything out of the office side of the Centre for a building expansion. The person who belonged to the boxes left before bothering to unpack most of them). Wheat didn't want a possible repeat, so I took the desk. Which meant, of course, that the first little while of my using this workspace involved me trying to find find places to put someone else's shite things.

That was fun.

This person was also a stationery hoarder of the first degree. Apparently she had to have her own supply of... well, damned near everything, so I inherited the doomsday store of office supplies. I'm still using some of them, in fact.

Well, bit by bit I did manage to make the place a little more mine. My books, now. My toys, which get played with by all the visiting kids (and not-so-kids, which I find hilarious). My things in the locked side of the desk, but in the non-lockable side?

Office Supply Central. Still.

There's a reason for that, actually. Before I came to my current position I was working more casual hours than anything, and I more or less thought of this desk as a place where any of the interpreters could work if I wasn't around. And, since it was already the home of All Things Stationery, I just made sure that the interpreters knew that if they needed pencils, rulers, crayons, scissors, or anything else like that for programs they could find it right there instead of having to scour the building.

It's worked out not too badly, really. For the most part.

Occasionally the OCD kicks in, but for the most part it's worked out ok.

Now, thankfully I don't have to worry about the craft supplies anymore because they've since moved to a specific craft area, but I still have the pencils, golf pencils, and rulers. I also have a set of whiteboard pens and a few other odds and sods. People come in, grab what they need, and (usually) return them. It's fine. I encourage it.

I don't get what they do with the pens, though.

I only have a couple of pens in the desk. We don't usually use pens for programming, so the only pens I have are the ones I'm personally using. And it's understandable that when people are used to grabbing other things from that drawer, they'd also look there for a pen in a pinch. It's also understandable that the pens would migrate. Everyone has forgetful pen people in the workplace, right?

But my pens seem to rotate. One day there'll be two pens with our logo and nothing else. Then one of the logo pens will disappear and another type of pen will show up in its place. Then that pen will disappear and I'll have three logo pens. And then I'll gain a mechanical pencil...

Right now.... let's see... right now in my pen tray I have one logo pen, one capless pen that says Delta Hotels, one retractable pen that I think I remember putting there myself, the aforementioned mechanical pencil, three other pencils of dubious origin, two blue pencil crayons that decided to visit one day, five pieces of chalk for NO APPARENT REASON, an allen key, and a safety pin.

Maybe I should have a week of listing how the line-up changes?

Ah well. As long as they manage to leave me one working pen (and don't make a freaking mess when they're digging around for stuff. I have no idea how things got in the state they were in when I got here this morning), I'm still good with having a partially communal desk.




I sure wish someone would explain the reason for the chalk to me, however...

Weird things I get paid to do at work

No, not post photos of grape leaves. I'm on a break right now.

Amongst the stranger things I get paid to do at work (I mean besides throwing crickets at salamanders) are roves and point duties. For those unfamiliar with the lingo, a rove involves wandering around the trails, possibly with props but not necessarily, looking for people to talk to. A point duty? Much the same, except without the wandering part. Staying at one point; thus, point duty.

And yes, I did just tell you that I get paid to simply hang around outside now and then.

Ok, maybe it's not so simple as just hanging around. I'm supposed to be giving information. It's kind of like being an interactive interpretive sign, in a way. And how much interaction is there? Well, it depends on how you go about things.

When I was a lot younger I would work hard to plan out my roves and point duties. I'd choose themes, research topics, pick my materials carefully, head out with a decided look of I have stuff -- talk to me!!! about my person... and, generally, come back later disappointed that so few people seemed interested in having anything to do with me. It makes sense now, but I can remember being a bit confused about people's reluctance back in the day. I mean, if you've gone to the trouble of coming to a nature sanctuary, why wouldn't you welcome the chance to learn more about it?

Because people don't want to be sold something, that's why.

If an interpreter goes out all keened-up and gung-ho, of course s/he's going to scare off people. Some people because they've experienced over-the-top campground shows in the national parks (although I personally have some pretty fond memories of over-the-top campground shows); even more people because they're expecting the but wait! There's more! segment of the spiel. We don't tend to trust the overenthusiastic, do we? I know that I've done plenty of avoiding eye contact when I've been to trade fairs and things like that. Why should it be any different on a nature trail?

So how does a person avoid that reaction and actually get people to talk to her, then? It's embarrassingly simple. Look like you don't really care if you're talked to. Be doing something, and let people approach you to ask about it if they're interested. Over the years I've done everything from fingerweaving at a booth I was manning, to pretending to do a pond survey (when really I just wanted kids to do some dipping with me), to field sketching (some of the worst sketches I've ever made, but that wasn't the point), to -- as I did this past weekend -- simply taking out the camera and staying out at the bird blind for a while. If visitors asked what I was taking pictures of I'd tell them (honestly) that I was looking for subject matter for our blog, but then I'd go on to point out a few interesting things I'd happened to notice while I was there. It's much more casual, it's much more friendly, and it's much less likely to annoy the pants off of people than being all INTERPRETER can be.

Incidentally, and going back to the sketch thing for a moment, it always amuses me to see how many people will come up and ask what I'm drawing when I'm going about things that way. If I was an artist it would completely tick me off to be constantly interrupted like that, but since I'm not I just use it as a way to open conversations. It does make me wonder how anyone ever gets any serious field sketching done without interruption, though.

Maybe they just don't notice. I'm not exactly known for my ability to concentrate, after all.

Anyway, no roves for me today. Just as well, since we're under yet another severe thunderstorm watch. Funny thing, but it's impossible to get anyone interested in your nature information when the sky's about to collapse...

Ahhh. Cute puppy love...

Today's photo, you may notice, is not of cute puppy love. It's of wet mock orange blossoms. I suppose they fit the cute part in a way, but mostly they're just pointless.

As usual.

Now, cute puppy love. And I apologise if this sounds crosser than I really am. It's just that I've been out in the heat maaaybe a bit too much today, and the headache I started my day with is getting worse by the minute.

Sorry, where was I? Oh yeah, cute puppy love.

I was looking at some of the Illustration Friday entries on my lunch break today (which... mine is incredibly lame this time around, so no need to bother looking for it) and I found myself getting more than usually annoyed by them for a few reasons. The first was an ongoing thing there which I don't think can be helped, but it gets old after a while: people randomly choosing stuff they've done ages ago and stretching the limits of the prompt word's definition to try to make a phony fit. Like I said, ongoing thing that can probably never be fixed in the non-juried format they use, so let's move on. The second thing? Cute. Man, do I get tired of cute. I do know that it says more about me than about the artists, and that cute has plenty of fans (and probably makes people plenty of money), but seriously? That place can be cute overload. It gets so that I have to avoid whole categories -- and probably end up missing some things that I'd really like -- because I just can't take the thought of more cute.

Third? Well, this is where the puppies come in, and where I'm going to have to tread a little lightly. Anthropomorphism. The word this week was gesture, and already I'm noticing an awful lot of depictions of dogs and cats (and probably other animals that I'm forgetting) making gestures of "love".

But can they?

I trained as a zoologist, and we were always warned to be very careful about assigning human emotions to animals. However, I also grew up with a lot of pets, and it's not hard for me to think of a dog or a cat loving its owner (incidentally, it probably says quite a bit that I was about to put quotes around the word loving just then). I had somewhat of a think about why the whole thing in art annoyed me today, and here's what my opinion seems to be at the moment. And yes, you'll be able to read a fair amount of my schooling into this:

I honestly think we should question ourselves when we're ascribing human feelings to animals. It's easy to see them, yes; we're wired to see ourselves in everything (don't believe me? Just try to look at a North American style electrical plug-in without seeing a face there). However, until science progresses radically there is NO WAY that we can really know if animal behaviours can be translated to human emotions. That's the bare fact. We don't know. Do I think that a dog love its owner? Yeees... but at the same time I know that most if not all of a dog's actions can be extrapolated back to pack behaviour in wolves. If your dog saves you from a fire is it because he loves you, or because he's trying to protect his pack as a matter of his own survival?

I can't answer that, and I suppose that's why I get uncomfortable around people who act as if their pets are their babies. It's not a baby; it's a pet. It's a different species. It may, in fact, have emotions (and I do believe that animals have emotions. Don't get me wrong there), but its emotions may have very little to do with yours.

When our last dog was a puppy, if she was stretched out on the floor and you sat down anywhere near her, she'd practically amoeba her way across the carpet until at least part of her was touching you. That could be looked at as "ahhh. Puppy loves you!!!" or "the puppy must miss her littermates", I guess. I think you can figure out which side of that debate I fall on by now.

So, yeah. I guess in the end it was a combination of too much cute and too many loving puppies that got to me with this week's word, and I'd really like to thank all of the artists who posted gestural figure drawings instead for saving me from the treacle morass for another week.

Just noticed that somewhere along the line I managed to drop cats from the puppy love rant. And why? Well, as much as I like dogs, I'm admittedly a cat person. I like the cats; the cats like &/or tolerate me. And we both like our mutual space, I think. It doesn't really get into wondering if the cats looove me, and I'm good with that. I guess that's why there are so few cats making grand gestures then, eh?

Assorted things

I have no idea what this post is going to be. I've spent too long doing something that shouldn't have taken so long (more on that in a bit), so I haven't really had time to think of a coherent post.

Not like my posts are terribly coherent at the best of times, but you know what I mean.

Anyway. Here goes. Post out of nothing:

First off, today's pointless photo wasn't taken at night. I was just mucking about with the editor, and decided I liked this. No reason. The reason it's getting posted today is that it's a gorgeous hot day out there so it seemed kind of weird to be posting pictures of wet stuff, which is what I mostly have right now. This one? Still wet, but less obviously so.

Next?

Am I too old to be taking peanut butter and jelly (well, preserves, to be more accurate) sandwiches to work? I didn't feel like making anything, you see, and the peanut butter was quick. I bring a satsuma orange as well, if it helps.

Anything else?

Well, I suppose I should talk about the time waster. Oh, not waster entirely, since it was something that should have been done, but it sure felt like a time waster. It has to do with video, of all things.

We have this flip-style video camera at work. It's still fairly new, and I've been meaning -- and forgetting -- to take it out on the trails with me when I do a rove (a rove? Topic for tomorrow's blog post, maybe. Roves are weird enough to blog about). Today I finally remembered. I did take a bit of video of me narrating a natural history thing which I've since deleted for the crime of being somewhat boring, but on the way back to the Centre I was lucky enough to get some brief footage of a deer that had been browsing the bushes by the building. What the silly thing was doing out in the public areas at noon on a sunny day is beyond me, but there you go. At least I got something to pop up on our YouTube channel, which has so far been very underutilised.

Pop up. Yeah, right. Like you actually "pop up" anything like that. It was more like

• Plug in the camera
• Download the software, since the camera hadn't been plugged into this computer yet
• Download the media reader
• Restart the computer
• Plug in the camera
• Update the software
• Plug in the camera AGAIN
• Upload videos to the computer
• Decide the one video is crap and delete it
• Start a blog entry
• Realise I should upload the video to YouTube instead of just Blogger. This, of course, after already waiting the first five minutes of the upload time on Blogger.
• Open YouTube
• Try to remember the YouTube password
• Start the upload
• Wait what seems like three quarters of an hour for twelve seconds of video to upload
• Link to video on blog post
• Try to publish blog post
• Get error message
• Reconstruct blog post from post draft
• Finally publish post
• Open Twitter
• Tweet that I've blogged.

WERE COMPUTERS AND SOCIAL MEDIA SUPPOSED TO MAKE MY WORK LIFE EASIER???

Ah well. I've officially posted my work video. Tomorrow I'll see if I can take something of myself that's a little less lame. And then I'll see if I can maybe not drive myself mad in the process of posting it.



Yeah, good luck with that. I'm going to stop typing now, ok?

This better damned well post on the first try...

Pointless photo of a wet thing of the day:

That'll be it for the day. Kinda busy with actual thing things just at the moment.

I'll try for more of a post tomorrow.

Ark, anyone?

It poured almost the entire day yesterday. Even the daylilies look like they've had just about enough. And we're supposed to get just as much today, again.

Yippee?

I'm not sure.

I don't mind the rain as such, and I'll admit that I was enjoying the sound of the downpour yesterday. And yes, watching the water cascade down the street (my father lives on a hill) brought back memories of when I was a kid and we used to create little dams in the gutters -- sometimes just with our rubber boots -- to try to change the flow of the water.

Still, though. This province isn't especially used to being so wet. It's not arid here by any means, but it's certainly not a rain forest either. Systems are backed up all over the place right now. Not here specifically, but several neighbouring towns are dealing with serious flooding and power outages.

And we're supposed to get more today...

The odd thing is that this is the second summer in a row that we've be so unusually wet. Last year the gardens all went completely jungle-berserk at the unaccustomed moisture, and things out in my father's yard look to be headed the same direction this year. Just try to keep up with the weeds when they're doing the happy WE'RE WET!!! dance and it never seems to stop raining for more than a couple of days in a row so that you can get out there and do something about it.

It's all so weird, especially when you consider that it was only a couple of years back that we were in the middle of a pretty serious drought.

This is the part, by the way, where I was going to say something about the mosquitoes, but all you really need to know about them is GAH! MOSQUITOES!

The whole thing makes a person wonder how anyone can ever talk about "normal" weather. There's no such thing as normal weather. There are trends, yes, and I do know that climatologically speaking this is all just a small blip in a much, much larger pattern. It's hard to think of the pattern, though, when you're stuck in the middle of what the hell is going on? Oh, and before anyone tries to be helpful and explain all of this to me, I should say that I did study a little bit of climatology in university, so I have a general understanding of the way things work.

And besides, I'll probably be driving home in a downpour today, so I'm allowed to whinge about it at least a little.





Ah, yes. There it is. Self will out, and I like the rain as long as it doesn't inconvenience me.

Just checked the forecast at Environment Canada. Possible 70 mm today, 20 mm tomorrow. And Thursday? Rain.





Yep. May just be needing that ark after all.

In the meantime, I'm thinking we need to end this wet post with some rain music. Thoughts, anyone?

No, not that one.

How about...?

Too much of an earworm.

Well maybe...



Yeah, this. Later, all. If I don't float away.

Leaf me

So, I was out taking pictures in the rain this morning because I was running a little short of pointless photos since I hadn't had a chance to get out with the camera for a while (plus, the mosquitoes. Gah, the mosquitoes).

Pictures in the rain. The things I do for you people.

Anyway, this means that the next week or so's shots will feature wet everything. Oh, except for wet grape leaves. Two reasons on that: the grape vine is sheltered because it's right next to the house, and it's dull enough outside that, with the exception of the one you're seeing right now, the grape pictures didn't turn out as well as I might have liked. I might go out and give it another try in a moment, though. This blog needs more grape leaves.

No, I'm serious. I love grape leaves. Not so much to eat (I've never had a dolmade, so I'm not even sure what it's like to eat grape leaves), but for their structure. Their shape, their veining... and for the way they curl up in the fall. You see, it's all about fairly tough veins in a relatively thin and delicate leaf surface. When they dry up they make the most fascinating shapes. Fantastic to draw.

It's probably no surprise to any of my two fans who have followed my olf adventures, but I tend to find leaves fascinating in general. I love the branching patterns the veins make. I love the way that they seem superficially symmetrical, but upon closer examination have all kinds of little variations scattered throughout their growth (a reminder that, however preprogrammed organisms might be to grow a certain way, outside conditions are always going to cause changes. If you want uniqueness, you should be looking at leaves rather than snowflakes. There's a much greater chance that you'll find two snowflakes that are the same than you could ever manage for two leaves. Or, erm, at least I'm assuming...). On a day like today, I love the way their waxy surfaces cause the raindrops to ball up and magnify certain parts of the leaf. I love their greenness, and how that greenness reflects their function.

Why yes, I'm a Grade A nerd. No surprise there.

I suppose there's nothing wrong with getting enthusiastic about something so important to our existence as leaves (let's face it -- we wouldn't be here without green plants), but I'll admit that it does lead to an overabundance of photos that are probably pretty boring for those of you out there in Blogland.

I...

Don't care, really. My house, my rules, and leaves make me happy.

Good thing, really, because I got the planters on my balcony done so late this year that I'll be lucky if I have anything other than leaves.

Anyway. I think I'll take the camera out now and have another go at the grape leaves, if you don't mind. If nothing else, it'll give me something to draw in the winter when I'm stuck inside and moping about the lack of leaves...

Blank page-itis

A post on Jennifer Appel's blog about what she draws to get herself started got me thinking a little about what it is that I do to try to get the flow going when a blank page (or a blank text box, in the case of this blog) has me as closed up as this iris bud.

Ha! See what I did there? Laaame attempt to make the usual pointless photo ever so slightly less pointless.

I said thinking a little because to be honest it was a pretty short think. As anyone who's had the patience to follow me lately knows, at the moment if I'm not feeling blathery I just plain don't blather. It could be because I've been blogging for a long while now -- since 2007 here, but don't forget that there were four years before that at the other blog before I decided to turn it all artsy -- or it could be my current mood, but for the past few months or so if I haven't felt like saying anything I haven't bothered.

Makes for exciting reading, I know, and I apologise for that. If you're looking for something a little more... um... odd, I would definitely suggest looking at the archives. I was looking for a link somewhere in there briefly today, and I can honestly tell you that I've had more than my share of moments of blog weirdness. Occasionally entertaining weirdness, even.

So what about the days when you actually feel like blogging and can't seem to get started, Dee? Well, in that case I just type. Yep. I put in a placeholder title (often something like Blah Blah Blah Blog Post). I'm sure if you searched a little you'd find a few posts where I've left that sort of title intact with the published post because the resulting incoherent mess really did become blah blah blah blog post. I don't do stream of consciousness all that well, it seems.

Occasionally -- very occasionally -- just sitting down and typing will remind me of something that I really did mean to post about, so I suppose it's still a worthwhile exercise even if it does lead to a whooole lot of crap most of the time. Ah well. The place is called pointless for a reason, after all.

As far as drawing goes, I was going to scan something from my pocket sketchbook as an example, but apparently the work scanner and my computer don't feel like talking to each other today. Maybe they're having trouble getting started? At any rate, think pattern. Pattern = my brain sometimes. Branching patterns, circular patterns, a couple that have followed me around since I was in elementary school that I've nicknamed The Brain (serpentine, vaguely brainish convolutions) and the Endless Rose. That one would be all about starting to draw a rose and then forgetting to stop adding petals. It's soothing, in a weird sort of way, and unfortunately tends to lead to my drawing more patterns rather than starting on the drawing I was planning to do.

Yep. OCD in action, I suppose.

Anyway, and, I guess, ironically, now that I've got a fair start on this post I really need to get back to work. If anyone out there has better tricks to getting started I'd certainly like to hear them. Time for this place to get a bit more chatty again, I figure, and it's not going to happen unless I build a little momentum and do something about it.

And, of course, now that I've said (erm, typed) that out loud, you just know that the next few posts will contain the words I've, got, and nothing over and over and over again...

Stupid bloody fingertips

The photo is, of course, not of a fingertip. Bloody or otherwise.

Today's misdirectional use of the word bloody in the post title comes from a text that I sent the Ontario office, complaining about the fact that I'd just cut myself. On the fingertip, in fact. Oddly enough, when I sent the words stupid bloody fingertips I meant it literally for a change. I'd just bandaged the bloody thing up. Not before I'd managed to goob up my computer keyboard a bit from not noticing that I'd cut myself, unfortunately, but there you go. Bloody became bloody appropriate for a change.

How many of you would like me to stop using the word bloody right about now? Oh, ok. I'll give it a shot, but I'm not promising the end result.

Why do fingertips have to be such a bother when they're injured, anyway? The silly things don't seem to like to stop bleeding in the first place, and then when you do succeed in bandaging them up and fixing whatever mess is left over, the bandage itself just becomes an annoyance of the first order. Especially in our computer-dependent age. In case you were wondering, today's post comes to you courtesy of the letter S and its friends that the fingertip in question should be taking care of but currently isn't.

I'll tell you, I'm a pretty slip-shod touch typist these days (sorry, Mom, but somewhere along the line I seem to have come up with a finger style that works better for my personal screwed-upedness), but times like these prove to me that a touch typist I am all the same.

Man, this is giving the backspace button a workout.

Anyway, before anyone decides to give me a lesson in fingertip vascularisation and how important it is (in other words, yes I do actually know why the bloody things bleed so well so you don't have to explain it, thanks awfully), I think I should end this physical challenge of a post and go grumbling off into the sunset.

Or at least back to work.

With, apparently, nine functioning digits and one bandaged pain in the whatever that I can't take the bandage off yet or it will just start bleeding again.




I tell you, life is hard.






Yes, I am overexaggerating the crippling finger injury. I'm allowed. I'm a five-year-old, remember? A five-year-old who can't currently type...

Pointless photo of the day:

Sorry, but I think I used up all my blather on today's weekend memo.

It's... an interesting memo. Maybe I should just turn it into a blog post?

Ah well. At least the picture's something. I'll try to be wordy tomorrow.

Brolly

This iris didn't have one, I guess.

So here's a question (and, oddly enough, the reason for the post title): umbrella or raincoat?

Raincoat, personally, and I'm beginning to notice that I have a bit of a hard time understanding the umbrella people.

Umbrellas, it's true, offer a good amount of shelter. However, they also mean losing the use of at least one hand, and they're absolutely useless in any kind of wind. Stiff wind? You run the risk of completely destroying your umbrella as it tries in vain to become a kite, and then you're left with no protection at all. And heaven help you if you're trying to walk in a less-than-open area. Like, say, a forest.

Ah yes. There it comes. You had to figure that my anti-umbrella stance comes at least partly from work, right?

One thing that frustrates me about working outdoors with kids is that kids love umbrellas. Any bit of threatening weather, and every kid in the group will be bringing an umbrella to the Centre. And, of course, any two spits of rain and allllll of the umbrellas have to come out. And then we have the fun of kids whacking each other in the head or poking each other in the eye, and completely not paying attention to anything that isn't an umbrella.

And then we get to the aforementioned forest. Ever tried to take a group of kids -- hell, a group of adults -- down a narrow forest trail when none of them have any form of protection from the elements but the bloody umbrellas?

Yeah, give me a raincoat any day.

But if you do happen to be part of the non-raincoat brigade, I'd be curious to hear your "fors" since I can't really think of too many. And if you're considering attending a nature centre program on a rainy day?







Maybe consider a raincoat as well. I'd be really grateful.

Staff

I seem to be skipping out on Blogland an awful lot this month. Long, boring story. Just know that I'm still around, even if I'm not... you know... around.

Anyway.

Quick post today because I have work things to do. So let's post about work, shall we?

My usual work uniform (I do have a couple of others, but I don't wear them as often)  is a dark green t-shirt with the Centre's logo on the front and STAFF on the back. When we first got them they were a big change from the old-fashioned "ranger" type button-ups we had been using, and to be honest I wasn't thrilled with them. They seemed too much like weekend wear to be for work, you know? Anyway, I did eventually get used to them, and now I don't generally give them a second thought.

And therein, as they say, lies the problem.

The problem of going around town doing errands (before work, after work, or for work) while forgetting that you're walking around with the word STAFF blaring from your back.

I'm honestly getting tired of people asking me where to find things in stores. I'm even more tired of the people who get needlessly huffy when I tell them that I don't know and try to explain that I don't work there.

People can be stupid about that.

It's bad enough that, even on fairly warm days, I'll leave work wearing my fleece jacket just so that I don't look so staffy. The problem with that at the moment, however, is that we're in the mid 20s for daytime highs right now and walking around with a jacket on for any length of time just makes you look overly hot, overly cautious, or overly clueless about the season.

STAFF it is I guess, then. Or bringing my wardrobe to work so that I can change my shirt for the five minutes it'll take me to get milk at the corner grocery after work today...





STAFF it is I guess, then.