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.

if pigs could fly

well.
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.

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.

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.
banana-shaped?
apple-shaped?
when i have things on my mind, like i do right now, i ponder the silliest things.

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.