laundry etc.

Bonita's laundry periodically changes the view from my window. I do not think that I could live in a place that is so oppressive that clothes lines are banned. Aren't we all supposed to be going green. At the moment my clothes are strung out in the bathroom.

On another topic I was told today that Walmart employees are lined up before the store opens, and they put their hands on their hearts and sing the Walmart Song and that I could look it up on Youtube. I did, but I don't think that this is it: 

the deal

I was off early this morning checking on the price of lawn mowers. I wanted something that wasn't gasoline fueled, for practical reasons as well as ecological. I have no out buildings so I have to store it in the house. The property is too long for an electrical cord. The battery powered ones are expensive and there are still some kinks in the design to work out, so I thought that I would buy a push mower. They are vastly improved over the old metal clunkers and I need to walk. Of course I would walk with all the others, too. But I can just pick this up and put it in the house. But at one hardware there was this bistro set that I had my eye on, and they knocked a third off the price for me, so I took it and the mower. They gave me assembled chairs because they said that the chairs were difficult to put together. The bistro set will be a fine welcoming addition to my front deck. It is my purchase for my summer holidays. Here it is in the back of my car and I shall drive around with it until I return home to Nova Scotia on Thursday evening.

Lent

It's funny how purple sometimes looks like blue. In some languages blue and purple are the same word.

A while back, way back, I was having lunch with three Catholic priests. It was the day before Shrove Tuesday. The conversation turned to what they were all going to give up for Lent. Then they turned and asked me.
"Snow"
"You can't give up something you don't like."
"I love snow."
"How are you going to give up snow?"
"Tomorrow evening I'm flying to Mexico for a month."
And I did. I flew to Mexico City and very early the next morning I made my way to the bus station to catch a bus north. As we drove out of the city valley snow began to fall. Children, delirious with joy, were running in it by the side of the road. Snow was unheard of. The bus tyres were bald and the wipers were marginal. Snow was accumulating in large flakes. I was wearing sandals and it was snowing on Ash Wednesday. I never told the Catholic priests. I didn't want to give them smug satisfaction. It would not be good for their souls.

winter sweater

Brett makes lovely creations and displays them in her garden,often on the snow: http://brittarnhildshouseinthewoods.typepad.com/brittarnhilds_house_in_th/. I finished this opus and was feeling pretty proud of myself. I thought about displaying it on the pristine whiteness of the new fallen snow But it was blowing a gale, and the sweater would have eneded up in the Bay. Perhaps Norway has a kinder winter.

the party

Here are a couple of dreadful pictures from the murder mystery party. There was a murder in Dodgey City - I was the saloon dancer - I was supposed to be dressed in red - but I didn't have anything that was both red and decollete. Suffice it to say that I was not the murderer, although I certainly had a motive. And why are people - especially me - so critical of our own pictures? I see doubled double chins, all sorts of wrinkles and sneaky eyes. It is certainly not how I feel. The camera never lies, but it doesn't show the real underneath me. Maybe I am the mystery.

chocolate - or not

No one gave me chocolates. On the other hand I think that I would prefer a sweetheart who knows how to spell to one who would give me reduced misspelled (or is it misspelt?) candy.

dirty day

Down east this was what is called a dirty day. I drove to Saint Martin's, but took no pictures. It was either raining hard or foggy.
This plaque was hanging on the hairdressers' wall. I had tentatively voiced the opinion (mistake, I never learn) that perhaps my son could use a comb. I didn't mention a haircut. His reply was that with my hair I really couldn't say anything. (That's the polite version - it was about never seeing my hair look good.) True, as soon as it reaches a certain length it sticks straight out in an unpredictable fashion. Before I went to my seminar in Halifax on Tuesday, I walked into a salon and asked for a haircut - a very short haircut. She obliged. I feel light headed.