Thursday, August 25, 2005

tea with grandfather

he sits, silhouetted by light and lace, corduroy rustling on corduroy, composed, hands clasping cup, pensive.
gazing solemnly over his straight and weighted shoulders is himself, as a boy. between them, dust dances, filling the metres, the minutes, the decades, with movement and memories, and the space between black-and-white and grey with a lifetime of colour.

Wednesday, August 17, 2005

if pigs could fly

i suppose this was their reasoning:
if you won't brake for cows, and you refuse to slow down for geese, perhaps - just
perhaps - sheer incongruity will stop you in your tracks.
it did us.

Saturday, August 13, 2005

closer to fine

i can finally stop feeling like i've been put into storage for the season, and start toasting the future:
the job interview i had last week left me feeling so positive, and so enthusiastic, that even the substantially "irregular" shifts involved - and the major commuting - couldn't keep me from accepting...with delight.
i start october first, which gives me time to aquaint myself with a few new/old
cameras, and to enjoy the europephotobloggers meetup at the end of september in
london (you, too?).
my cup runneth over.

Sunday, August 7, 2005

out on a limb

"curious people are interesting people, i wonder why that is?"
- bill maher (american comedian, actor, writer and producer, b.1956)

i understand the term "pear-shaped", as used when life - ah, life! - goes slightly awry.
but i wonder, sometimes, what one calls life-going-well.
when i have things on my mind, like i do right now, i ponder the silliest things.

Tuesday, August 2, 2005

that is the question

when i am asked, "what do you miss most about canada?", i always answer "kraft macaroni & cheese dinner".
but i jest, of course i jest. i miss my family most of all, and then i miss kraft macaroni
& cheese dinner. but i also miss things like maple syrup, and browsable bookstores, and chips with gravy, and, especially, space.
a few weeks ago, we viewed - at my quiet insistence - a house-for-sale, and it had space.
well, i saw space: a kitchen large enough for a table and chairs, a generous study, bedrooms aplenty, endless storage, and nothing - oh joy, oh bliss - attached.
my husband saw, above all, chores: a roof that needed repair, a floor that demanded replacement, a lot of plastic panelling, fake brickwork and definitely-not-us colours that would grate, aesthetically, very quickly.
i fell in love, despite, and envisioned myself getting old(er) there; he envisioned
himself sanding and sawing to kingdom come.
sometimes twains meet; sometimes they don't. we'll see.