Dash.

1998-2013

Sleep tight, bud.


***

PS.  My prayers are with you, Boston.

Ever get the feeling you're being watched?

I do. I must also have been doing my Keir Dullea impression...

"What are you doing, Dave?"Apparently, twenty spare minutes for blog-reading is not acceptable to CAT-9000.

Just like  Kubrick's homicidal computer, he tried to asphyxiate me.  Only he did it with standing on my chest, demanding snuggles and suffocating me with orange fur.

I may have a hairball.  I definitely need a lint roller.  Maybe I can invent a big, black rectangular one and call it a Monolint.  No one knows where it came from....  (Haha, cracking myself up!)

Yes, I see sci-fi classic moments in everyday life.

Six Days

In the last six days, I have...

...watched the snow melt...

...and return again...

...baked banana bread...

Asante sana, squashed banana, wewe nana.... Lion King? Anyone? No?

...finished the pencil sketch for a project inspired by many, but this one in particular...

...did push-ups with this guy in the way (Buddy - when I'm swearing and sweating, I don't want to pet you!)...

...and attempted to get into shape.

I am not trying to lose weight but I would like to be able to outrun a toddler and to do so without wheezing. I've done it (the video - not the toddler thing) three times to date, prompted by a kick in the behind (Thanks, Wende!) and, though mine will likely be a "64-Day Moderate Firming of The Jigglier Bits and Ability to Run at Least as Fast as the Vacuum" and not a "30-Day Shred", I'm going to give it my all anyway. As you can see above, I have already died trying and therefore, it can't get worse. I have also remembered everyday to take my vitamins and brush the little dude so the spring shed doesn't end up imbedded in every piece of clothing I own. The pool on how long I can keep this up should prove lucrative. :-) Your entry can be forwarded to.....

Have a terrific one!

Carly

PS - I have decided that they call them calves because when you stretch them too far or overwork them, you make the same noise you would make if you were giving birth to a calf.

Someone's suffering from attention deficit...

Me: Get out of here.
My original Laptop: Pet me.
Me: Shoo!
Original laptop: I SAID ... Pet. Me.
NOW.

Pulling the Rabbit - Giveaway Winner!!

There are technological devices designed to do pick a winner. I prefer the old-fashioned way...

Scribe a little number for each comment.

Throw them in a hat. (Secretly wish you had a top hat for such occasions but as it is, a newsboy cap works just as well and is far more flattering to my face...)

Pull out a rabbit, a jug of milk, or a mitten-loving winner!

Congratulations to Whitney of WhiskerGraphics! It seems fitting that the first giveaway would be won by the first commenter on the post... There's a delightful harmony to it, don't you think?

Thank you to everyone who entered! There were some great comments and guesses... and I appreciate them all.

My Pumpkin was the Werewolf. (Mother did the Punk Princess - yeah, I know....??, Father did Senor Mustache - we all agreed it resembled him, Sister did Obama - she laughed when she discovered it was an option and then just couldn't get it out of her head, and Brother carved the Zombie - he's our resident expert on all things zombie.)

He's sad. He didn't win.

Coffee and Raindrops

The last few days have been the kind where a steady drizzle sets the mood. You could spend all day just staring out the window, glad to be inside, with a ramekin full of creamy, silky, creme brulee and a cup of hot black coffee.

I meant to take a photo of the creme brulee when it arrived but the picture speaks the truth: it was just too good not to dig in right away. ( In Saskatoon, Calories on Broadway is one of the best places in town....)

These are good days for baking banana bread, fuzzy sweaters, cat naps, and stacks of DVDs to keep you company while you hand-stitch the binding on your new quilt. I've finished it but, obviously, we are sadly lacking in natural light this week and I haven't been able to photograph it, either. Gives me time to wash the cat hair out of it. (I meant the part about cat naps literally.)

I'm just waiting for more leaves to turn. Things are still pretty green around here and it's only enhanced by the rain. Greens are always more green when it's raining. I have a theory that rain is the reason Ireland sparkles like an emerald. But I'm waiting for the oranges, reds, and buttery yellows to keep me warm. Until then, I'll just have to snuggle up under the quilt with the Nap King.

A Date with my Camera

Silver birch - how grasslands become forests.....

Step One: Dress in layers.

Step Two: Stuff a few things - sketch pad, water bottle, wallet, and camera - into tiny little day pack. Look outside and realize that you've picked the windiest day of the year and grab iPod to give your ears a little protection from the blowing wind and to see how nature looks with a soundtrack.

Step Three: Leave a note.

Mine reads: I have gone to Beaver Creek for the afternoon. If I am not back by the time you read this, I've likely been kidnapped by badgers as retaliation for that thing that time. Send help! Love, C

Step Four: Snap with impunity.

I hadn't been out to Beaver Creek in a long time. But when the leaves start turning colours, I get this sense of wanderlust that drives me out amongst the trees.

(Last October, I was able to take a relaxed stroll down by the river at Fort Edmonton Park - it was very orange - and beautiful. And I don't have a single shot because I didn't back them up and my hard drive suffered a massive failure from which nothing was retrievable.)

So I went walking, weaving around groups of school children, taking photos when I wasn't being blown over and some even when I was. It's always refreshing to just breathe...

I am not much of a wildlife photographer. I photograph wildlife much like I garden - terribly. It's sad. I managed to frighten almost everything before I got a good shot or was so far away, by the time you zoom in, it's pixel-ated beyond all hope of recognition.

I did manage to say hi to the chickadee...

Catch a chipmunk before he dashed off....

And see what I thought was a stick in the path before it moved and I had the presence of mind to reach for the camera before the full body panic set in over a harmless little thing?

SEE????Probably not - but it's in there..... Did I mention that I'm lousy at wildlife photography? It is just a garter snake. Less than two feet long. But one of the things I adore about autumn is that reptiles like snakes are supposed to be hibernating. Sleeping. Dreaming of fields full of mice and affected British accents for when they are cast in the latest Disney cartoon. Anything but creeping me out. (Yeah, yeah - get over it City Girl. )

I did spot one particular tree....

Alone and defiant. Standing tall against the prairie, laughing into the wind. And not likely jumpy around harmless garter snakes...

It never ceases to amaze me how the prairie can go from thick brush and forest to plains in less time than it takes to aim a camera.

Anyone who says there is nothing on the prairies, or that they're a boring flatland, just isn't looking hard enough.

And anyone who thinks I'm afraid of snakes just hasn't seen me around spiders. :-) I'm not afraid - I respect. And respect requires a healthy distance.

PS. The quilt has been basted. However, its state of un-finish does not prevent its usefulness. To some, anyway.....

Circadian upset

This is naptime - see the nap face?It usually takes a few days to adjust to a new schedule. For a number of months now, I've been running on a sleep cycle that begins about 3am and ends with the above face meeting me nose to nose about 10am. Still early enough to accomplish things during the day and plenty of evening to catch up on everything else.

And then, I find myself needing to be places at 8 or 9am. Switching schedules was so simple in university when most nights I averaged 5 to 8 hours of sleep and seemed to be able to fall asleep at will and recover without much damage until Christmas break. Then, sleep was only broken for a few butter tarts, a turkey bun, and a holiday special before it was naptime again. But now, I'm in my thirties and it's harder to change and to sleep, period.

The first day goes relatively smooth: bedtime was later than you hoped but hey, it'll be good to be a little tired after that first early day. Yeah, right.

At the end of the day, bedtime comes closer to goal but your body decides it's going to grab the sleep you "skipped" the night before and you wake up later that you slept before you changed the routine, having slept through two alarms and the above paws kneading your face and asking when breakfast is going to be served and how long before your pillow becomes available. Chances are, there is cat hair up your nose and your wrist has some sort of strange kink in it developed under the sedimentary pressure of your comatose body on top of it.

That night, you fall instantly asleep. You hear the alarm and so do the above ears which cue the above body to snuggle in. You wince but you get up. It's easier, or at least, it's getting there.

And you fantasize all day about finding a warm patch of sun in which to nap. MMMmmmmmm, sun nap...

I think I'll have one now.

PS - Happy Birthday, Mike.