Ok, tea

I've been holding off on buying tea, just in case my sister-in-law (there has to be a shorter way of saying that) decided to buy me tea for Christmas. She did. Here's what I've found.

Hot Chocolate: is. Yeah, it's tea, but it may as well be hot chocolate. I'm not complaining.

Apple Cider: tastes fake. A look at the ingredients shows that it IS fake. You can do better, @davidstea.

Organic The Big Chill: I've had this before, to be honest. It's pleasant.

Chocolate Chili Chai: I haven't had this from the box yet, but I've bought it. Memory says it's tasty but needed more chili to be called a chili chai.

Spiced Apple: I usually avoid teas with black pepper, since it overwhelms everything else. They've kept it low here, though. I enjoyed it.

Snow Day: another one I've had before. It's fine, and almost has something to do with its name.

Sleigh Ride: yeah, this is an old familiar. Don't add sugar to it. It's already one of the few items in the bunch that has a sugar listing.

Alpine Punch: is good, but has nothing to do with alpine anything. Coconut?

Toasted Walnut: you do get that walnut aftertaste, for better or worse. Actually, this one's not bad.



So, overall, drinkable except for that unforgivable fake-tasting one that makes me wish that David's Tea would learn to stick to actual tea. Next up? Whatever I get to augment the current supply.

Doodling

This is the time of year when, thanks to a generous gift card from my brother and sister-in-law, I generally end up with more art stuff. I say generally because last year I ended up buying beads and some other stuff and just a little bit of art stuff. Back to the art stuff again this year, though.

Are you tired of me typing "stuff" yet?

What you're seeing to the left in today's pointless photo(s) is mixed media paper, black 110 lb paper (I was going to buy an art pad of heavy-ish paper, and then it occurred to me that I could find it cheaper in the scrapbooking section. Turned out to be heavier paper, even.), a General's sketch set with charcoals, pastel pencils, and graphite (just to replace some of my stubs, really), a package of store brand coloured pencils in neons and metallics (for a change from my normal, usable colours?), and a set of Stabilo Point 88 Fineliners. That's nylon tip pens, good for writing or drawing. The picture to the right is me testing the pens to make sure none of them were dry. Oh, and I was drinking tea, obviously.

I went all art with my gift card this year partly to give myself a figurative kick in the butt. I've been lazy about art lately. It's been happening, but I slowed down a lot to give my stupid wrist a rest while it was being, well, stupid, this fall. It's an old injury that I periodically re-injure. Unfortunately, it also means that on my bad days I get a very shaky hand, because it's your wrist that controls most of your hand movements. If you're interested in anatomy, look up a picture of the human hand. There are surprisingly few muscles in the hand itself. Your wrist is the puppet master.

Anyway. Shaky wrist equalled shaky hand this fall -- still does, now and then -- so I backed off a bit to let things heal. The problem with that is that you get out of the habit. Oh, I've still been doodling (it's pretty hard to stop that) but I haven't produced much that's worth public viewing. In fact, I see that the last time I posted to my art blog it was August. I guess I should do something about that.

That's the plan. So, fineliners to convince myself that pen lines don't have to be perfect to be valid (shakes really show in fine pen, but that's okay... she tries to believe...) and pencils because I used to do a lot of pencil work and I should get back to it.

The other thing that usually helps is doing an inventory. I started one a few months ago, but got stalled. If you follow me on Instagram, then, don't be surprised if art supplies start showing up in my posts again. Photos remind me of what I have and how far I got, and if I've got the photos I may as well post them, right? That way it's not just me that knows the scale of years of buying.



Well, this turned into a post. Fancy that. Next time will probably be tea, you know. It wouldn't be the holiday season if I wasn't reviewing my tea presents.

You've been warned.

T'was the day after Christmas...

Otherwise known as Boxing Day here in Canada (and the UK, and probably other Commonwealth Countries as well. I'm too lazy to check, to be honest).

To the left, you'll see my annual slow shutter speed photo of the Christmas tree, because it's more fun that way. Plus, you can tell by the dotted lines up top and the solid lines below that Dad has one string of LED lights and one string of old-fashioned incandescents, and that appeals to the nerd in me.

And that implies that there are parts of me that aren't nerd, I suppose. I'm not entirely sure that it's true, but we'll roll with it.

And how was Christmas? Not too bad, actually. Dad didn't think that the gifts I gave him were too stupid (gifts, plural, only because he got a few little things this year instead of one big thing), I made out nicely myself, I was (as usual) spoiled by my brother and sister-in-law and will have a shopping trip to blog about when I get the chance, and the turkey was pretty good.

We didn't go out to view the Christmas lights this time, as we often do, because it was bloody cold out there. Ah well, I was inside so that's all right. I managed to make it into town just before a heavy snowfall and will leave (probably tomorrow) as it's warming up, so my timing was pretty good for a change.

And as for Boxing Day sales? Just online ones this year for me. I don't exactly have to budget to find more things than I need, anyway.

I'll leave you with a few shots of... well, any cat owner can guess who enjoys Christmas the most, I guess.

Hope you had a merry/happy whatever.

Pointless cat photos

Because the internet needs more cat photos, really.

This is me not apologising for not blogging, by the way. Life has been busy. I recently officially took on social media management at work, and since that's becoming more and more a part of our marketing it's keeping me on my toes.

I don't really have any other news. Dad and I went out for Chinese food last night because we both have upcoming birthdays and I won't be home for either of them. He was pretty quick to agree to supper when I suggested it, because as a Legion member Remembrance Day is always fairly busy for him. I also had to give him his birthday present early, because it was perishable. What did I give him? Sausages. No, I'm not kidding. I gave him sausages from Big Bend Market, which makes them in-house from local meat. They have other fantastic local products as well, and a great lunch counter. If you're in the Red Deer area you should look them up.

I of course didn't give him the sausages at the restaurant. You know, in case you wondered.

Anyway, that's all I have at the moment. Oh, except for the fact that Dad's washing machine is sounding like it's preparing for take-off. I think he needs to start looking at the sales flyers. Now onto the Turkey Brothers:

Tom was unimpressed with Dad's towel mountain.

The "don't hate me because I'm beautiful" pose.

Bob, chillin'.

Add me with a face cloth and you'll know what it's like to wash your face here. Yes, he stands right in the sink.

The dawn of a new age

The pointless photo is not exactly picturesque, but then it's also slightly -- just slightly -- not pointless. Not enough to turn the blog orange (old, old joke, so never mind), but there is somewhat of a point to it.

This is my Dad's new modem.

Because of weirdness in his line, he's had to use an external modem since he first got internet service. A while ago an electrical storm fried it (which also managed to screw up his phone service, of course), so he had to call a serviceman in. The guy's reaction? "Wow. That's an old one". Cue forward to just about every phone-related switch and box connected to the line being checked and replaced where necessary, and everything works again. And, as I said, this is the new modem.

Note the antennae. Yep, built-in WiFi.

My Dad has WiFi for the first time, and he's found out that it causes what most of us have known for a while: constantly fiddling with your phone. Now, personally I don't even have internet at home (I don't have a computer, so it would be kind of silly), so I usually save most of my phone-fiddling for when I'm at work, but it's nice that now when I visit here I don't have to burn through my phone data. It's also nice that I can use my tablet for something other than saving things for later (when I can find WiFi). For Dad, though, it's been the revelation of doing his e-mailing and whatever else without having to come downstairs.

Like it says above, the dawn of a new age.

Good thing or bad thing, do you think? I'm of two minds, I suppose. None of us needs to be sitting more than we already are, really, but at the same time it's the way our world operates these days. I think that rather than good or bad I'll just say inevitable, and get back to the phone alert that rang while I was typing this.

After all, I don't have to feel guilty for checking them anymore. Dad's probably doing the same...

Hey, it's another post!

Probably another short post because I'm literally just waiting for the (watercolour) paint to dry on something I'm doodling for Illustration Friday. See the other blog in a while for the end result, if I feel like it's worth posting.

The prompt this week is vintage, by the way. Kind of a weird one.

Anyway, today's flower. I wish I could have gotten a better shot of this poppy, but it was a bit windy yesterday (today? Rain, so not much better). It's pretty spectacular, though. Pink double with purple bits on the underside. The funny thing? Dad has no idea where it came from. The oriental poppies we had before came from my grandma's former house, and they were straight-up orange.

I hope this one seeds, because I'd like to see it around for a while.

Speaking of Dad, did you know that yesterday was Father's Day? It was for us, since I had to work last Sunday. That edible plant walk for the local U of Alberta alumni (Quaecumque vera! And yes, I'm an alumna as well. 91 BSc spec (Zoology). Sheesh, 1991. And now I feel even older...) went well, at least. Anyway, when I found out that I couldn't come in for actual Father's Day I asked Dad if I could take him out for dinner the next Saturday -- yesterday, in other words -- instead. He chose a local Chinese buffet, which let me off cheaper than I intended. I'm always up for decent buffet, though, and this one turned out to be just that.

Decent, that is. Definitely Chop Suey (Chinese heavily modified for Canadian tastes, that is), a few too many battered and deep fried things, lacking in something spicy except for the sriracha they had out, but generally tasty and definitely fresh. That waitress put on an awful lot of miles continually restocking things.

It was definitely the pseudo-Chinese food of my childhood, and probably what I would have kept eating except for a friend I had at U of A (Quaecumque vera...). She was the daughter of from-China parents who had a restaurant in Fort Macleod. At the restaurant they served  the Canada-friendly stuff, but at home it was straight-on real Cantonese. When she and I would go to the Chinese restaurant close to our places she'd order completely off the menu and get things that I wouldn't have even imagined existed. Not everything went over well immediately with this small town Alberta girl, but it certainly gave me a taste for something that wasn't sweet and sour pork.

And good on her. Life's boring if you only ever eat pineapple chicken balls.

Anyway (again), my paint's dry now so it's on to the pen & ink.





Don't expect much, by the way. I never do.

Love you

The picture is of a butterfly in the Blue group (appropriate). I haven't had a chance to look it up yet.

Anyway, here we go.

As far as I know, I've never told my father that I love him. We weren't that way,  you see. We were never huggy or demonstrative. I don't even remember my dad telling my mom that he loved her. I know he did -- I was there after she died -- but it was never said out loud in front of us.

I'm tired of things being behind the scenes.

I love you, Dad.

You drive me nuts sometimes, but it doesn't matter. You're my dad, and you're a good dad. You've been there through a lot of things, including my first word to you being "don't" when you were emotional seeing your kid in intensive care when I didn't realise how sick I really was.

I have a good dad, and I'm lucky. I know it.

I just hope you know it too.



I love you, Dad.

Pointless photos of the day:

No, the Turkey Brothers aren't supposed to be on top of the stored mattress. My fault for leaving the door of the downstairs bedroom open as I was folding clothes.

It's been an interesting urinary morning here. And yes, I meant to use that word. The cat who's been fighting a urinary infection and just finished his course of antibiotics decided yesterday and today to pee on the floor instead of the box again. For anyone who has a litter-trained cat that suddenly decides the floor is a better place, by the way, it's often a sign of infection or urinary crystals (or in this case, both). Either means get to the vet. This particular cat will be going back this week.

In other news, Dad is pretty sure that he has a kidney stone. Told you that it was a urinary day. And my sympathy and empathy to him, because I get them too.

In other other news, it was a pretty windy day yesterday so I didn't get a chance to get too many new pictures. Ah well, you'll no doubt be seeing the poor lot that I did get.

In other other other sadder news, a group of teenage boys decided that it might be fun to go into Calgary's Canada Olympic Park two nights ago and try out the bobsled run with a toboggan. What they didn't know is that the starts of the bobsled run and the luge run are separated by a heavy gate, which they ran into at speed. Two dead, six injured. Sad, but to add to it, these weren't stupid kids. The two killed were honours-student twin brothers. It was just teenage boys being teenage boys and getting into what they probably thought would be minor trouble. I can't imagine that poor family right now. Not to make excuses because (as if we needed more proof) stupidity can kill you and that was pretty stupid, but it's an awfully harsh lesson for all of those involved.



I don't want to end on that note, so... um... how about rocks?

Let's see.

How about my favourite rocks, in absolutely no order:

• Amethyst
• Lapis Lazuli
• Any number of Jaspers
• A fair number of Agates
• Certain Garnets
• Amber
• A bit of Jade is nice, too

I should add in Topaz and Aquamarine too, I suppose, but to be honest those have more to do with a couple of pieces of jewellery that I own and the people that I inherited them from.

Notice that diamonds aren't this girl's best friend? I think that they're important for their hardness, but as gemstones the only reason they're so overly desired is that De Beers and company made up a market for them. You can look that one up for yourselves, by the way. I'm tired of linking. Oh, and my lack of enthusiasm for diamonds doesn't mean that I don't appreciate my uncle's gift of his, of course. I sincerely do. Again, though, it's more the person than the stone.

That's enough for today, and yes, it is lunch time. See you whenever I have time in the week.

Christmas: finally over

But first: David Bowie. Of course I had to mention him. Diehard fans will roll their eyes when I say that my fondest memories are of the Thin White Duke period, but when you consider the fact that those songs came out when I was an impressionable teenager who didn't know much pop music beyond what was on AM radio (please tell me that I don't have to explain AM radio...), I think that I can be forgiven. Obviously I discovered the vastness of his other work later. One thing I hope that people will remember is that yes, he was a showman. Yes, he shocked people, BUT THE MUSIC WAS STILL FANTASTIC. How many other showmen/shockers can even approach that?

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My two fans will know about this time of year for me, but for those new to the program I should say that every year my brother and sister-in-law act as my art supply enablers by giving me a gift card to go out and buy something new for myself. Usually it's already been spent by now since I generally try to get out early and hit the Boxing Day Week sale and get as much as I can out of it, but this year for a multitude of reasons it just didn't happen. On Sunday, though, we finally had a decent day (the day before had been bitterly cold. Go figure. It's Alberta in January) and I decided that I was in the mood for shopping.

I've mentioned this before, but I have a general philosophy about gift cards. Since a gift card has been given as I gift, I try to avoid buying practical things with them and instead go for the I kinda want that... arena. It can be hard since it goes against the grain in my normal life, but hey. It's a gift. Treat it as a gift.

I broke that philosophy a little this year since I really did need some more workable fixative, but otherwise what you see up there is what came out of my wants this time. From... whatever order I pull up the links... you'll find Koh-I-Noor Magic pencils because I'm a five-year-old; Liquitex Pools, Puddles, & Drips, which contains paints, pouring medium, string gel, and two completely useless canvas boards (yep. Someone's planning on getting messy); Staedtler watercolour crayons because I somehow didn't have any even though I have scads of watercolour pencils, and some cheap-ass acrylics because a) I'm not much of a painter and b) they were on sale. Oh, and my travel mug is in there partly to keep the fixative can from falling over and partly to remind myself that I also made a stop to buy tea.

And why tea, when I'm still working my way through my Christmas stash? Well, mostly because I wanted to check out their matcha make travel mug since I've never tried making matcha and it seemed like an easy way to get into it. Apparently I'm not the only one who's had that idea, though, since I see that the thing's sold out even online. Ah well, something to keep in mind for later. It wasn't a wasted trip in the end anyway, because I was out of two of my regular favourites so I got refills while I was there.



Of which teas? I'm afraid this post is long enough for a work day now.  I'll end with a quick look at me at work back in 1995. Yes, I've been here that long. Longer, in fact. You kids get off of my lawn.

Technology and tea

This'll be quick. People to do, things to... oh wait. That's not quite right.

Anyway, technology. My father's learning how to use his smartphone. He's figured out calling, voicemail, and accidental pocket dialing so far. Today we sent a couple of texts back and forth. Next step apps?

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And, briefly, tea. Today's is Sleigh Ride. I've had it before. It's good. The end.



Gotta go now.

The Naming of Cats

 Before I start, if for some reason you haven't read the poem that goes with the title, read it now. And remember that Andrew Lloyd freaking Webber had nothing to do with it.

Come to think of it, you should probably read all of Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats. It doesn't take long, and it's nice to remember that the same person who wrote The Waste Land had his fun side.

Um, anyway.

Today's featured cats are, as usual, the Turkey Brothers. For those new to the program, that's Tom on the left (and the ugly candy cane is his fetch toy. He's asking me if I'm going to throw it. And yes, I did.) and Bob on the right. And yes (again), if you think that you're seeing an absolutely humongous lava lamp behind him, you're right. The thing takes about two hours to get warm enough to blob.

The Turkey Brothers are, indeed, brothers, and they have perfectly sensible names. Tom Cat and Bob Cat. There shouldn't be any sort of weirdness there, right?

Well, there is. The weirdness is me.

For most of my life I've seemed to be unable to call an animal by the name the owner's given it. Our last dog was pretty much always Dogbreath to me rather than Rikki. Todd's (that would be the office mate formerly known as Wheat on the blog. Long story) dog Arthur is Doofus. You'd know why if you met him. Our last cats, Max and Penny, were Smack and Lump. Actually, Max probably thought that Max (or Smack) was his second name. His first name? Jesus. As in, Jesus, Max...

And the Turkey Brothers? Once I noticed that they were responding to their names I honestly tried to do my best to use them. Tried. I do on occasion, but the urge to rename -- or alter names -- is, I guess, too strong. The result? Well, Tom often gets Thomas, which isn't so bad. Bob, however, I started calling Bobimus from early on. It was suggested by Terry Jones's Nicobobinus, which I'll leave you to look up yourselves this time. I don't know why I went for M instead of N, though. Bobimus naturally led to Tomamus, sadly. He doesn't get that too often. I'm sure he's happy about that.

Lately Bobimus is evolving (devolving?) into Bobule. As in Globule. He's a big, round cat who's pretty good at being a speed bump rather than getting out of a person's way, so the name seemed kind of obvious.

Where to next with them? Who knows. They're only a year and a half old or so, so I'm sure that over the course of long lives they'll develop more names from Yours Blatheringly. Since they're called the Turkey Brothers for a reason they already have a multitude of other names from both Dad and me depending on their behaviour. None of those really stick, though, since they're not exactly polite.

I'll end with the proof that we actually do have a Christmas tree, with minimal decorations in case the cats went full-on turkey. You can't really see the lights because of the flash, but they're there.

I have no idea what Dad's cowboy hat is doing on the lampshade. For that matter, I'm not really even sure why Dad has a cowboy hat at all. Stampede is only once a year.



I suppose that the hats don't just disappear after that, do they? Kind of like Christmas trees.

Something vaguely Christmas, I suppose, is appropriate.

Well hey, it looks like at least one reindeer was here.

Or maybe it was a Mule Deer?

Ok, let's try this again.

If I'm yet again scarved, wearing penguin earrings, and taking photos of the side of my head, it must be Christmas. Right?

Actually, Christmas almost didn't happen for me this year; at least not on Christmas itself. After yet another bout of insomnia, I was left headachy, brainless, and knowing full well that I wasn't fit to hit the highway (sleepless driving is still impaired driving, folks. You don't have to be drunk to be charged). I was planning to be in at Dad's place on the 23rd, but it was the 24th before he got the teary, probably slightly incoherent call that I just couldn't do it even then. What would have happened? A day's delay, maybe, which doesn't sound so bad except... well, Christmas, you know? Christmas should be on Christmas, if you're going to celebrate at all.

Long story short (too late for that?), I did manage to get some sleep that night and was able to make it in for Christmas morning. Gifts happened, turkey happened, and that evening we drove around and looked at Christmas lights. That's become a bit of a thing with the two of us: tooling around town, Christmas carols on the radio station because pretty much everyone has the night off, and both of us singing along. That last part is accidental. It just kind of happens.

It ended up being a good day, and I'm glad that I made it.

What else? Well, it was the Turkey Brothers' first Christmas with a tree, and they didn't destroy it. Granted, it was only partially decorated, but it's a good sign for next year.

In the gift department, you'll no doubt be hearing about my latest tech toy, so I'll save it for now. I did get a much nicer bluetooth speaker than the one I would have picked up at the after Christmas sales, though. Guess I'll be making more use of that Spotify deal from Rogers than I assumed that I would. And I won't just be throwing my phone into a cup to amplify it, although that works better than it should.

Also, tea. And when I make it back into town, my yearly art supply geek-out. So now you know what to look forward to on the blog in the future.



All in all, a pretty good day, and I'm glad I had it. I'll try to get out the camera and get some better (or at least a little more interesting) photos for the blog soon. Hope everyone's having (had, or whatever) a good holiday.





Don't let the Boxing Day sales wear you down.

Interesting couple of days

 In honour of my father's birthday I thought I'd show you a picture of the cat I gave him, still in its wrapping paper. Or maybe that was just a cat thinking that the wrapping paper was his present?

Sounds more likely.

I also brought a little (read: cheap) present for the Turkey Brothers, which Tom is demonstrating below. You never know with cat toys, as any cat owner can tell you. You might notice that Bob has a very ugly candy cane-ish thing beside him in the birthday paper? That was from a cat toy "stocking" from a dollar store. They lost it almost immediately after Christmas and found it only about a month ago. Now they're obsessed with it.

The current toy hangs from a door and has a dangly mouse that makes an electronic squeak. To these two at the moment it's seeming like cat crack, the way they go at it. They'll probably get tired of it in a day or two, but for now it almost -- almost -- beats the ugly candy cane.

I took these shots with the phone even though I have the actual camera with me because the phone seems to annoy Tom less. I'm still not sure whether it's the flash or the beep that bothers him, but more and more my Tom photos just look like photos of a PO'd cat. Maybe I should try it on silent today and see if that changes anything.

Anyway, what I started out to say is that it's been an interesting couple of days. After a year of planning and design, we had the grand opening of our new displays at the Nature Centre. I'm not talking one or two pictures here, either; this was a $1.5 million project, replacing the thirty year old displays that were put in when the building was constructed. Thursday we were making sure that everything was ready for the sneak preview we gave staff and their families, and Friday was the opening itself, complete with dignitaries and speeches and everything that goes with a lot of money spent. I was on photo (with actual camera) and social media detail, so when I wasn't shooting I had my head buried in my phone, like I always said I would never do.

Ah well. At least it was for work.

I have to admit that after all of that on a sprained ankle I'm more than tired, though.

Anyway. Again. This post got a little delayed because my uncle came over bearing gifts (and if you take blogging over gifts I'd really wonder at you), and now I'd like some lunch. I'll put a panorama of part of the new displays below. It's more fun on the phone where you can scroll through it, but at least it gives a little bit of an idea.

Besides, if you're in the area at all you really should come down on your own and have a look. We think it turned out pretty well, and we're kind of proud of that.

Happy Thanksgiving Turkey... Brothers

Well, I spent a little time this morning doodling something for Illustration Friday, which you can find on the other blog if you choose to. The blather over there (which, oddly, is called vague mutterings. Made sense to me at the time, I suppose) means that the blather over here is getting short shrift today. However, I will give the holiday a bit of a nod by presenting some non-feathered turkeys:

For anyone who didn't believe how big these guys are, I present to you one chair full of cat. Oh, and for those new to the program, the Turkey Brothers, Bob on the left and Tom on the right, are my father's cats and are, indeed, brothers. They're also proof that mamma cats fool around.

When I went outside a little later to take more pointless photos, I noticed a window full of Bob. And no, he's not responsible for the duct tape fix job. He would have been talented to break the window on the outside when he's usually on the inside.

Coming back in, I was greeted by Tom. Dad's alarm system has an audible "back door" prompt when the door is opened, and it's become the cat caller. Tom especially needs to see who's coming in. As you notice, he decided to show me how well he can cheek shoes.

Apparently they were delicious. Um, whatever, Tom.

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone. Expect mostly radio silence from me in the next day or two. As usual.

The flowers that bloom in the spring...

Tra la!

Oh wait. Some of you don't have the same music in your brain as I do. Gimme a sec...

Here you go -- from Gilbert and Sullivan's The Mikado. I chose a clip with the dialogue that comes before the song so that maybe it's a bit more understandable to those of you who don't know the operetta.

The youth choir that I was in as a youth (um, duh) put on abridged versions of G&S. In the Mikado I was, of course... Koko, the (idiot. Well, that's oversimplifying, but you get the direction) Lord High Executioner. The one who gets to marry the ugly old lady that they talk about in this song. Yay? Oh, it was good fun, actually, but the fact that I never once got to play a female character in all of the productions that we did was a bit hard on an insecure teenage girl. It was only due to a shortage of boys, but still. The one time that I was supposed to be female (Ruth, in Pirates of Penzance) our director became ill and it never happened. Figures.

Aaanyway. That was an awfully long aside when I only wanted to explain the post title. These particular flowers are in bloom right now, and that makes me happy because they're the first wildflowers around here that are. Early Blue Violet (Viola adunca). Even though these are in the yard and surrounded by plant litter (and blown-in garbage, of course), they're still wild. They showed up probably before I was born, they faithfully come up every year, and we're happy to let them.

Tra la.

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Sorry I missed the Saturday post that I generally make when I'm in at Dad's, but I came in later than usual and then we ended up taking a trip to the local trade fair in the afternoon.

Small town trade fairs can be fun, even if in this particular rural centre they come with a lot of farm-related things that this townie has no interest in. As a kid I always loved trade fairs because of the stuff. You know, the giveaways. The pens, the key chains, the stickers, the balloons; basically anything that any company was giving away I'd collect because I could. Occasionally some of the stuff was useful, but most of it -- except the pens -- hit the garbage can within days of being brought home. But still. Free stuff, right? Who can argue with free stuff?

I still generally try to grab at least a pen when I go to a trade fair because you can always use a pen, but I have managed to restrain my stuff-collecting impulses over the years.

This year's show was a bit politics-heavy because we're having a provincial election and of course all of the candidates needed to be there (and incidentally? Way to have no class, Wild Rose. Bringing those inflatable stadium thingies that you bash together to make noise -- thundersticks, apparently --because you know that the kids will all want them? There's more than one reason that I wish you would just vanish. Even though Danielle Smith managed to get rid of herself), but there were still some interesting things to look at. I bought a grand total of nothing even though I'm sort of in the market for a purse and Phil's Fudge Factory makes reeeally good maple bacon fudge (seriously), but I did, naturally, pick up one or two things. You have to, or you just don't feel like you've been there. This time around, a key chain from the Town that has a tape measure on it, a key chain from Corrections Canada (not entirely sure why they were there. Recruiting, maybe. Employees, I mean, not more criminals) that has an emergency whistle on it because the one I got from a pile driving company a while ago is showing some wear, a couple of cards from businesses that might be useful work contacts, and a whack of catalogues from companies who would love for me to either host parties for them or become an associate to find people to host parties for them.

To be honest, I don't understand how party-style selling is still such a big thing, especially in the online store age. Not my lifestyle, I suppose. I also don't understand how Tupperware gets away with being so expensive, but obviously they do so what do I know?

The one thing I didn't get? A pen. I forgot. Dad got one and he offered it to me, but I have other pens. Still, though. I forgot a pen? I must be slipping.

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There's enough words to last a while, but one last thing before I probably avoid drawing today. I was surprisingly gutted to hear of Jonathan Crombie's death. Not because I was one of the apparently thousands of girls who has a crush on him as Gilbert Blythe (although he was a near-perfect Gilbert Blythe, speaking as someone who grew up on the Anne books), but because he was so young, so talented, and had so much potential. Reading about him yesterday made him seem like a really neat person, too. Just goes to show that you can never tell what's going to happen in life, I guess.

Enjoy it while you've got it. He seemed to.

Tartan Day

Well, it's Tartan Day here in Canada and a lot of other places (although I see that Australia and New Zealand have theirs in July). Tartan Day, you ask? Yes, really. April 6th was chosen because it marks the anniversary of the Declaration of Arbroath. I'll let you do your own reading on that. I'm not exactly up on my Scottish history.

Heck, I'm not even Scottish.

Oh, maybe if you go waaay back in my mother's ancestry you might find something, but I'm far more English than I'd ever be Scottish. I'm more Welsh than Scottish, and that's going back a ways right there. I'm even more Irish than I am Scottish, and that's going back even further. And as for Ukrainian? Well, my grandfather was Ukrainian (or Ukrainian-Canadian, that is), so when it comes down to ancestry I'm actually fairly Ukrainian even though I don't know a darned thing about it.

Um, anyway. The point is, I'm not Scottish.

For a number of years now my boss, who is of Scottish ancestry, has been giving us the gears for not celebrating Tartan Day. This is someone who has shown up to work in full kilt on April 6th, by the way. Many of us have tried to explain that if we own any tartan at all it's in pyjama bottoms, but he'll just say we should come to work in pyjama bottoms then.

Not me. Besides, I feel a bit weird about wearing tartan. Have I mentioned that I'm not Scottish?

Well, I hadn't remembered that Tartan Day was coming up, but the other day I was reading an article on the history of tartans (and, naturally, now I realise that the article wasn't posted at random) and that got me searching for itemss made with the Alberta Tartan. Oh, wait, Alberta Tartan. And, as an added bonus, the other provinces. You know, for those who are interested. I figured that I may not be Scottish -- did I mention? -- but I am an Albertan. And there are plenty of scarves and things out there that I could get for not much money, and then next Tartan Day I wouldn't have to put up with the annual where's your tartan-fest.

I mentioned all of this to Dad, and he sent me in a slightly different direction.

What you're seeing in the not-entirely-pointless photo above is an old jacket of his featuring the Maple Leaf Tartan, which is Canada's official tartan. I may not be Scottish -- have you heard? -- but I'm definitely Canadian. And since the jacket doesn't fit him anymore he's perfectly willing for me to take it to bits and make whatever tartanish things I'd like to have around for Tartan Day. And as an added bonus, the thing's virgin wool. That's quite the step up from the polyester-viscose stuff I was looking at. Tartan Day problem solved!

Except that TODAY is Tartan Day.



Kind of makes me laugh, really.

Ah well, Tartan Day problem for next year solved, and if I'm in the mood for a little sewing tonight (hand-sewing that is. I'm way too far away from junior high home ec to remember how to use a sewing machine) maybe I'll make myself a little hair bow or something just to give the day a day-late nod at work tomorrow.

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On a completely different note, I hope that everyone's remembering that April is Daffodil Month for the Canadian Cancer Society. Wear a pin. Buy a bunch of flowers if you see a charity seller in a local store. They're not expensive, the money's for a good cause, and I'm pretty sure that someone you love will appreciate the fact that you took the time.

Enough words for today, folks. I'm off to... oh hell, probably do my taxes. It seems to happen every Easter weekend.



Happy holidays?

How to spend New Years when you're boring

Today's pointless photo? I dunno. I just liked it.

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So, I have plans for New year's Eve. Obviously, if I'm bringing it up, I'm about to tell you about them. Ready? I'll be...

Sitting by myself in my apartment and doodling.




Yay me.

Actually, that's not a bad thing because it means that I've made the annual trek with my gift card from my enablers brother and sister-in-law to get some new art toys. And beads. I have to admit that I got tempted into the 60% off Boxing Week sale on beads while I was there, so it won't be All Art All the Time this year. Unless you call beading art. Which some people do, I suppose, but I'm not sure that you can count the way I bead as anything close to art.

Anyway.

I'll be quietly home playing with my new toys (and maaaybe a glass or two of wine. Haven't decided that part for sure yet), making a pseudoartsy mess, and, frankly, happy. I never did like the fuss of going out on New Year's Eve and being expected to have fun even when all I wanted to do was get out of a stuffy, noisy room. The only real exceptions to me preferring a quiet New Years were a) back in the dark ages when I used to babysit and knew that New Year's Eve meant some decent cash for a teenager, and b) when this city did First Night for a few years back around the turn of the century (makes me laugh to type that). Yeah, cheap, non-booze-based entertainment actually got me out of the house back then, and it's too bad that the event folded. Tonight, though, it'll be me, DVDs to avoid the vacuousness of TV MARATHONS (otherwise known as we didn't feel like actually programming anything over the holidays), and the new mixed media journal I started last night when I realised that the olf in me just couldn't take the mess of my old one any longer.

It, um, hit the garbage on my way to work this morning. Maybe one of our local dumpster divers will appreciate the sheer weight of the gessoed pages.

Oh, and the toys (but not the beads, because you'll probably see them in various forms on the blog later anyway)? These pencils, and these ones, and a lettering felt on a whim, and a something else that I'll tell you about later because it will also likely be starring in some pointless portraiture here as winter makes me increasingly desperate for things to take pictures of.

Bet you can't wait.

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Nothing like ending the blog year on a sad note, but I just had to mention Edward Hermann's passing. Funny that he's headlined as Gilmore Girls Actor... since I never even watched that show. I remember him more for one-offs and guest shots, really, but wherever he showed up he always seemed to make an impression.

I suppose that there should be some significance about his exit coinciding with the year's, but my two fans know that I don't buy into things like that. I'll just miss him being around, that's all.



See you in 2015.

So...

Yesterday my father found my uncle (who had been living in the basement room) dead in his bed.

Yeah. That was... well, I was going to say fun, but that doesn't seem right since you can't read tone of voice. It wasn't fun. But that's about all I want to say about it, really. My Dad's had a helluva few weeks what with my problems and then this. It's not exactly light blog-fodder. So, a quick rock before lunch just to change the mood. And I mean quick.

This is my fossil shark tooth. This is a fossil that I'm not at all apologetic about, because shark teeth -- fossil AND modern -- exist in the thousands. Sharks make a lot of teeth. I'd never condone catching sharks so that their teeth can look neat on a cord (or so that their fins can make gelatinous soup...), but science isn't going to miss a few fossilised teeth out of the many that have already been studied.

And what kind of shark is is? No clue. Probably a smaller one.

Mysticism? Don't really want to look, but... ha! A quick google doesn't have any a shark's tooth can cure on the first page, so I can ignore the rest. Well, I could ignore it anyway since it's my blog, but now I feel a little more justified in not searching further.

That's it for today. Blogging will probably be a bit more sporadic in the next while. That's right, boys and girls, I've been cleared to go sit at a computer AT WORK as opposed to here at my Dad's place. So exciting. I'm capable of sitting, medically-speaking.



Lunch now. Later, all.

Ah, new. And some Turkey Brothers.

 Today's pointless photos are completely unedited, because I have other things to do. You'll hear what in a bit.

The first pointless photo is, admittedly, boring. It's a bridge, obviously, and if you click on it you'll see that it's a little fuzzy because my hand was getting tired at that point.

The cool thing about the picture, though, is that the bridge is way down the hill and across the river valley from my Dad's place, and I took the shot from his driveway.

Yep, someone got a new zoom lens. 55-200 mm, which will nicely extend my range since the kit lens (the one that came with the camera) is an 18-55 mm. And the new lens was on sale.

No, really, that's a good thing. Maybe my family's weird, but we're always happy when we can a) get things on sale, and b) tell the person we give them to that the things were on sale. I know that some people would think it's lessening the value of the gift or something like that, but it's more like being proud of finding a neat thing AND managing to get a deal on it.

Anyway, happy birthday to me, and thanks, Dad.

The other new thing is the computer that I'm currently using. My brother and sister-in-law decided to get Dad a new system for his birthday (yeah, she'd had to use Dad's old one when they were out here. I'm not the only one who was hearing the hamster wheel). Now I just have to figure the thing out. You see, the person who does our IT at work has decided that she doesn't like Windows 8, so all of our stuff is on Windows 7 whether it's new or not. Right now I'm using the Desktop on this computer rather than the Start page for anything that I want to actually get done, but don't worry. I'll figure things out eventually. Erm, not that you'd know one way or the other anyway since it'll all look the same to you, but... You know, I'm not sure what the but is. But I'm not a dinosaur? But it isn't giving me the jitters? But even though I'm now officially smack dab in my mid-forties (yes, dammit) I still know how to computer?

Whatever. Fill in your own but.

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And now for a quick Turkey Brothers update. The boys have lost their kitten coats in a big way. Tom has become very shiny and sleek, and Bob is still a fair bit coarser. They're both pretty handsome cats. You can see from the photo above that Bob is very much the speckled kind of tabby rather than the stripey kind. They're both still shits climbers and are on everything. The only way to keep them off the piano, for instance, is to make sure that they never get anywhere near the piano. Yep, these little boys see a lot of closed doors. I'll have a few more pictures of them in the coming posts, so more later.

For now, though, I'm off to explore the wonderful world of Windows 8.



I'll leave a trail of breadcrumbs in case I get lost.

And now, the moment some of you have been waiting for...

Allow me to introduce Bob and Tom (from left to right). The jeans belong to my father's leg, and the blanket... some sports team, I guess. I dunno. I follow the Oilers. There hasn't been actual sports in that arena for years now...

And yes, I'm just pulling someone's leg a little.

Bob and Tom are brothers, but I have a sneaking suspicion that mom may have fooled around a bit. I don't know what gives me that feeling, but there you go. Tom was apparently the largest of the litter, and he acts it. He's more outgoing, and is pretty good at coming out on top in wrestling matches. I also haven't heard him talk at all. Dad says that he can, but I guess he doesn't feel that he has to. Not so with Bob. Bob's a squeaker if there ever was one. And he's not all that great at the independent thing compared to his brother. When he realises that he's alone, you hear about it. The funniest was when he was alone in the litter box (they're small enough that they generally share) and started complaining. It was funny because all he had to do was walk over to the other room for some company.

I suppose he hadn't thought about that.

We spent the afternoon shopping for a couple of cat toys -- there's a bit of a dearth of pet toys in this town, so we had to try a few stores -- and that plus some of the old cat toys are making the place look nicely like the home of pets again.

Or babies. There's not a whole lot of difference in the look of clutter.

Anyway, it's late and I don't want to make this lengthy. Best deal out my new material in small hands, I figure. Now you've seen them, though, and you'll never see them again.





Anyone actually believe that? Silly people. You'll probably be seeing them every post for the next month. After all, kittens, right? They belong on the internet.

Good night, all.