What's For Lunch?

We are feeling a little lacklustre and in need of sustenance.

This will do famously! (or should that be "famishedly"?)

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New York memories of Salade Nicoise at the Markt Restaurant .

The yurt-like shape of the salad echoes the rooftop structures that we viewed from our apartment windows.

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Today, however, back in the burrow, I'm enjoying some homemade cabbage soup to combat the damp limping away of June.

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Equine-amity

Country Horse in Prince Edward Island

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"The horse walked with a patient, uncomplaining gait. It had long grown used to being wherever it was put, but for once it felt it didn't mind this. Here, it thought, was a pleasant field. Here was grass. Here was a hedge it could look at. There was enough space that it could go for a trot later on if it felt the urge....It went for a little amble, and then, just for the hell of it, stopped ambling. It could do what it liked....

It also quite liked the notion of spending half an hour walking alternately a little bit to the left and then a little bit to the right, for no apparent reason. It didn't know whether the time between two and three would be best spent swishing its tail or mulling things over."

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Douglas Adams (Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency)

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Rather the way I feel today, having quit my job. Only I still have a sprained ankle and it's pissing rain outside. Guess I'll stick to mulling things over for now.

Horsing Around

"So what of this horse, then, that actually held opinions, and was sceptical about things? Unusual behaviour for a horse, wasn't it? An unusual horse, perhaps?

No. Although it was certainly a handsome and well-built example of its species, it was none the less a perfectly ordinary horse, such as convergent evolution has produced in many of the places that life is to be found. They have always understood a great deal more than they let on. It is difficult to be sat on all day, every day, by some other creature, without forming an opinion about them.

On the other hand, it is perfectly possible to sit all day, every day, on top of another creature and not have the slightest thought about them whatsoever.

Douglas Adams (Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency)

***

Today I was sitting in the back yard, babying my sprained ankle by keeping my foot up on a chair, reading the above-mentioned book and when I came upon this bit about the horse, it brought to mind the picture I took of one of New York's Finest looking slightly distracted while sitting atop a fine steed who appeared camera shy. They were watching the stream of humanity gushing through Times Square and I snapped this as I floated by.

Antique Café

Do you notice something a little odd about this photo? I flipped the image so that we could read the writing on the wall...er...window!

Is it hot in here or are my glasses fogged up?

Tasty tidbits and tasteful decor.


Adding to the pleasure of our stay in NYC was breakfast at the Antique Café, just around the corner from our apartment. A continental breakfast was part of the B&B deal, and we could choose from a variety of fresh-baked muffins, croissants, chocolatines, etc. to go with a bottomless cup of robust coffee. Part of the charm of the place was an older waiter, tall, thin, and slightly weather-beaten, with what I think was a mid-Western American accent. He was unfailingly attentive and upbeat in the face of our bleary-eyed morning mumbles.

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Vintage

"Age cannot wither her, nor custom stale her infinite variety."

Baubles, Bangles, and Edna

This is a photo compositon I made of an older woman I saw creeping along a street in Little Italy in NYC. She was being encouraged by her younger companion to, "Hurry up, Edna!" I loved that she still colours her hair, applies make-up, dons the glam shades and pumps up the volume with big clip-on earings and ropes of faux pearls. Edna is still strutting her stuff, even if it is at a snail's pace. I combined the picture of Edna with one of a storefront window that had caught my eye in another New York neighbourhood


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Even though neither image is technically good, I find that the haziness (some of it deliberate: it's called "noise") lends an appropriate mood to the composition. At any rate, that's my excuse and I'm sticking to it.

Here's the original Edna photo, surreptitiously snapped as she shuffled by the streetside table where C & I were indulging in vodka-sauced pizza and beers.

Shades of the young Edna?

Have A Punt

When I was in Oxford a couple of years ago in a noisy pub, someone shouted in my ear if I'd like to have a pint; at least, that's what I thought I'd heard. Feeling thirsty, I readily agreed. Imagine my surprise when I was summarily marched out of the drinking establishment, taken to the river, and put into a wooden raft of death (or so it seemed to me)! Well, perhaps the story didn't unfold in quite this way. Nevertheless, I did find myself being punted down the lazy Cherwell on a grey spring day.

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My last post about the geese floating away on calm waters brought to mind my punting excursion. I must admit that I set out with great trepidation but ended up feeling like the Queen of the Nile.

Honk If You're Canadian

On my way to check for mail yesterday I noticed this gaggle of geese feeding on the grass by the pond across the road from the Post Office. There are a couple of Canada Goose (Geese?) families that return every spring to this pond. This was the first time that I noticed them this year.

The proud & protective papa keeps guard while mother & goslings sup. (You can just make out the head of a wee one peeping out of the grass behind the guard goose; mama on far right.)

Of course, my approach was the signal for them all to run away. Sauvez-vous! (I like the little guy at the end of the line, still taking a moment for another quick beakful)

And away they sailed for an early evening swim. Rather like going out for a ride after supper, I think. Honk-honk!

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I came across this gorgeous video on the internet this morning and think it goes well with today's blog. I love the underlying rhythmic sound of the beating wings. I hope you have a few minutes to watch and listen.

TGIF

A little mood music to help ease our way into the weekend. I could use a lovely stroll in the park just now. Maybe an ice cream cone (chocolate, of course) and some jazzy tunes to soothe my rattled mind on my lunch break. Nice to have this moment's respite before heading back to the grind. I hope you've enjoyed it, too. Thanks for sharing it with me. (What flavour did you get?)

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(Photo from May trip to NYC--unfortunately not really today)

Textures And Lines

While the village sights charmed me, my artist's eye was drawn to the textures and lines.

Village Amble

This past Saturday was an absolutely gorgeous day so I took myself out on an amble around the village I live in. Here are some of the sights for those of you who are feeling a little homesick, for those of you whose visit is long overdue, for my friends and neigbours who are just too content at home to go out for a walk, and for those of you who have never been here before and will probably never make it out this way. (click on the house for a little theme music)


Several varieties of irises (or flags) are blooming these days. I particularly liked this two-toned variety waving in front of the bandstand on Main Street. (flags...waving...get it?)

And then there was this other colourful show off filling up at one of the two local gas stations (the one without the liquor store).

The story of the Anglican Church here is that it was constructed by a boat-builder in much the same manner as a sailing ship would be made. It has a Scandinavian look to it, don't you think?

This is a Baptist cemetery. Most of the headstones are dated from the early 1800's. I like how each has its own personality and attitude. Some even seem to have a head and shoulders.

Lupins grow wild in the ditches here. June is a wonderful month for wildflowers. And for humans, too, because of that. Unless you have allergies.

The red green and white, the horizontal and vertical lines, the weatherbeaten wood and various textures all caught my eye.


This view of the farm on the hill, complete with cows (you have to look REALLY closely but they are there), situated right on the main street of the village, always tempts me to capture it in a picture. But you have to be here to get the full effect. Meanwhile, I hope this little ramble will tide you over till your next, or first, visit. Come on down! (but call first)

Tagged

(Art Gallery Guard Cat, NYC)

A couple of weeks ago, I got tagged by Mr. Toad of Magic Lantern fame (and I do mean fame). I understand it is a matter of noblesse oblige in Blogland to respond when this happens. The rules of the game also indicate that one is supposed to tag 6 other people, but one can alter the rules and questions...so I say, if any one out there wants to post answers to these questions on their own blogs, or in the sand for that matter, you are invited to do so.

So here are the questions with my responses:

What are your current obsessions?
Who says I'm obsessed? Have you been watching me? I guess I'm a bit obsessive about maintaining my blog, otherwise known as talking to myself in the dark. And checking OPB's (Other People's Blogs)...

Which item in your wardrobe do you wear most often?
My black shawl--probably something to do with the Italian in me.

What's for dinner?
Usually whatever Pierre wants to cook.

What's the last thing you bought?
Other than necessities? A colourful, low-cut summer dress that I'll probably regret.

What are you listening to?
The wind in the leaves, birds singing, summer approaching. I am listening to the absence of winter.

If you were a god/goddess, who would you be?
Sedna, so I could be featured in some cool Inuit art.

Favourite holiday spots?
Anytime, anywhere visiting with my daughter. Although, probably not if snow was involved.

What are you reading?
I'm re-reading "Fierce Invalids Home From Hot Climates" by Tom Robbins. When I read it several years ago, I raced through it. This time I'm savouring the language.

Who or what makes you split your sides laughing?
Not really a side-splitter. Can't say what might set me off; it has to be something very unexpected and incongruous. Then I'll laugh till the tears roll down my face and I may continue for hours afterwards, intermittently...depending on how much I've had to drink.

Who's your hero/heroine?
Fred Astaire, movie version. He could sweep me off my feet any day.

First spring thing?
Slapping some fake tan lotion on my legs so I don't blind the public when I start wearing skirts again after the endless winter.

Favourite film?
I've watched Broadcast News many times. I like Amadeus. Les Choristes. Once. The Hours. Singin' in the Rain...Chloe in the Afternoon...King of Hearts...I guess no real all-time hands-down favourite. It's still open.

Care to share some wisdom?
If you're female, make sure your skirt is not tucked into your underwear when leaving the washroom; if male, check that the barn door isn't open. But not to be sexist--if you're a girl wearing pants or a guy wearing a skirt, same deal!

If you were a tree?
A weeping willow (inspired by "Willow Weep For Me", Chad & Jeremy version).

Fictitious character who left a lasting impression?
Miss Haversham. And Cinderella.

Four words to describe yourself.
I'm an acquired taste.

Six things you love (other than the obvious).
Sorry, time's up!

Silver

Some random sights that caught my eye in NYC last month:

The flip side of when the moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie.

The next trend in medicine--vertebrae replacement to go with your new hips and knees.

If you've still got it, flaunt it!

Grandstanding.


You Got the Silver

Par Excellence

(photographed by Pierre)

I have just spent nearly two hours cruising through my Seattle Photographer Friend's website, Under the Light. If you want to experience pictures to drool over, grab a glass of wine, cup of tea, bottle of Scotch--whatever is your prime choice of liquid relaxation-- and settle in to view some absolutely brilliant images and interesting stories. Dig deep and you will find absolute gems...though all that surface gold dust is nothing to sneeze at, either! See particularly, "In The Shadow of the Viaduct" series, and "A Year In the Garden" (my favourites, anyway).

Heavens of Heaviness

A brooding sky. A moody day. Change is in the air.

Clouds in my backyard.

Say, Can U C

Let me reflect a moment...

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(This a companion photo to the one I posted for the Reflection theme over at the Blogger Friends site. )

A New York Jones

C. and I were introduced to the Great Jones Cafe by a charming young man whom C. knew from McGill days. It was hidden away in an unremarkable corner with an unprepossessing exterior. Without our guide we would have probably walked on by. Inside it was hot and noisy and filled with tempting aromas of a kind of Tex-Mex variety. Sitting there felt like we were part of a genuine New York scene, filled with students and academics and hipsters and not a tourist in sight. I think we passed undetected.

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You raise up your head

And you ask,

"Is this where it is?"

And somebody points to you and says

"It's his"

And you say,

"What's mine?"

And somebody else says,

"Where what is?"

And you say,

"Oh my God

Am I here all alone?"

Because something is happening here

But you don't know what it is

Do you,

Mister Jones

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(B.Dylan)

All The Better To See You With

Just what, I can't help but wonder, should one "let her know" as advised in the display. Perhaps that she's gone a tad too far with her weight-loss campaign?

I believe these glasses give one the power of Reverse X-Ray Vision!

Distant Shores

My trip to NYC last month was my first trip there. I've flown to many places before without suffering any fear about it but I must say that flying into LaGuardia was a bit of a white knuckle experience. The relatively recent media images of passengers standing on top of a plane floating in the New York harbour only served to, shall we say, enhance my excitement. We came zooming in over the water with no sign of land anywhere beneath us, lower and lower. I wasn't in the window seat so when we finally did touch down, I still couldn't see any evidence of terra firma. The landing itself seemed as if we were trying to screech to a halt on the deck of an aircraft carrier with only centimetres to spare before careening into an immovable object.
I can't wait to do it again!

Heavenly Host

Here's a Kirlian photograph of Pierre hosting the Small Bandaid Concert last week. Don't you love how it captures his connection to Heaven? Either that or his head was on fire.

I remember at art school one time a dodgy character came round to demonstrate a type of camera that was purported to capture the essence of the soul or some such. I think he was just cruising for gullible girls, who all swarmed around him after the demo and gave him big hugs. Needless to say, I was not among them. It wasn't that I didn't believe in auras, I just didn't believe in the guy.

There With Bells On

Two Sundays ago I was invited by my neighbours to attend the village's big Baptist Church recital of their bell-ringing groups. P. was out of town and, quite frankly, I had nothing better to do. It was an entertaining spectacle, to watch people with white gloves and various sized hand bells ring out hymns. They were solemn and concentrated and focused on their music sheets. There was singing by the congregation in between the ringing. The performance was only marginally marred by the frequent braying of a mentally-handicapped congregant and the exit of a whole pew of people once their sprog had performed his part in the children's percussion group. And there was no collection plate in sight.

Don't Axe Me Again!

Look at the art installation that Pierre made for us!

(I'm a bit worried about the symbolism, though)

Context

Yup, she's real all right. All souped up and rarin' to go. Let's take a little joy ride! Beep beep!

Punch Buggy-No Returns!

(Read the story below then click on the bug to re-enact the christening song)

Hands up how many of you know that game where you're riding along in the car and the first person to spot a VW Beetle yells, "Punch Buggy, no returns!" and punches you in the arm? Thank dog we didn't play it in the late '60s when they were everywhere! I remember when one of my dearest friends, Jillie-Beanz, got her driver's license and a Beetle and we christened it "Ruby Tweedy" and drove round and round a field singing "Goodbye Ruby Tuesday" (you had to be there but, sadly, most of you weren't). A friend with a car was so liberating! I guess that hasn't changed over the decades.

(I spotted this baby on my walk home from work for lunch. Who knew Snider's Garage would be such a treasure trove of photo ops! Lucky for me I had my camera with me because the dream machine was gone when next I passed by.)

A Jug of Vine

After living vicariously with the lovely lilacs of my European blogger friends for the past month I am delighted to finally be sniffing my own. Now it's my turn to share with you. Thanks to Pierre for gathering bouquets to put throughout the house, plus this one for my blog.

Don't you wish it was scratch'n'sniff?!

Splish Splash!

The cat and I intend to relax.

Doin' Mickey's Monkey

Put on your Mouseket-ears!

Picasso: Mosqueteros

C. and I weren't about to line up to see Picasso's Mouseketeers when neither Annette Funicello nor Justin Timberlake were any longer a part of them!

Where's Mickey?

Cheez'it--the cops!