February 28th, 2007 § § permalink
It was an eerie feeling driving along Keele Street in Toronto, looking for an open gas station. All the stations were closed. Hand-written signs on the pumps. There is no gas. It’s like something from Soylent Green. Or Omega Man.
Perhaps this is the wake-up call that we need. We can no longer lean on an oil-based economy. Something has to give.
Al Gore said it loud and clear during the Oscars. Now his house is plastered all over the papers. It seems he’s accused of wasting electricity. Does it matter that he buys green fuel? Is living in a 10,000 square foot home, spending $1,200 a month on electricity a green initiative? It gives one pause.
February 18th, 2007 § § permalink
I’m so amazed by the human potential. Our ability to create, to inspire, to love. There is so much beauty around us, so much to marvel at, so much to be thankful for. Like these delicate violet freesias in this exquisite vase.
Our friend Richard is a brilliant artist. His medium is clay. He does the most incredible things. He presented us with this beautiful vase at Christmas – a limited edition. It makes us happy just to look at it. It’s also wonderful to hold.
February 18th, 2007 § § permalink
I’m so amazed by the human potential. Our ability to create, to inspire, to love. There is so much beauty around us, so much to marvel at, so much to be thankful for. Like these beautiful flowers in this exquisite vase.
My friend Richard is a brilliant artist. His medium is clay. He does the most incredible things.
He presented us with this delicate vase at Christmas – a limited edition.
It makes us happy just to look at it. It’s also beautiful to hold.
February 14th, 2007 § § permalink
I consider myself a fairly tidy person. In fact, there was a time when I was downright house proud. So I experience more than a small amount of horror when I discover dust bunnies in my house. Where do they come from? Is there really that much dust in the world?
I know why they call them bunnies: because they breed like rabbits. It doesn’t matter how often I vacuum or Swiffer or wipe the floor. Every week, the dust bunnies return in force.
Living in the city doesn’t help. There are particles in the air – lots of them. The window sills are testament to that. Somehow, mysteriously, they become covered in black specks of soot. But the bunnies…they’re the real concern. And they seem to be getting bigger. The more I clean, the more I find.
I never knew what a dust bunny was growing up. My mother ran a tight ship. And I followed her lead. But somehow, being clean isn’t good enough these days. It’s as if the bunnies have been exposed to radiation or too many antibiotics or something. They’re Super Bunnies, imprevious to the cleaning practices of old. These bunnies are tricky. Maybe even evil. They wait until you least expect it, like when guests arrive, then appear, grey tumbleweeds of stuff, rolling silently, damningly across the floor.
I have my theory as to their origins. My friend Cathy will concur. Bunnies come from cats – that’s right! BUNNIES COME FROM CATS. That sweet little feline napping peacefully by the radiator is a non-stop, bunny-breeding machine.
February 10th, 2007 § § permalink
It’s been over six months since we adopted Bosco. We love him dearly, but it hasn’t been easy. Bosco is a Manx. Charming in every way, more like a little dog than a cat, really. At first I found it hard to accept his tail-lessness. He doesn’t have the lift of “normal” cats. He’s earthbound, content to move along a horizontal grid rather than the vertical. We’re used to that now.
But we didn’t know that Manx’s are prone to problems of the lavatory kind. It seems the very thing that makes them special (their lack of a tail) is the thing that causes so much woe. The Manx is an abberation, a deformity of the spine that affects them at a neurological level. In short, they haven’t got the goods to make their stuff work properly. So they leak sometimes, and get…well…caught up in other ways.
We took him to the vet, trying to explain that our dear cat pees the bed. Four hundred dollars later, they call to tell us Bosco has Manx syndrome and that it’s completely untreatable. I actually knew this already, having researched the breed online. Live and learn.
So we’ve covered everything in towels and we keep an eye out. We love him too much to let him go.