Close Shot Friday 078

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Pink Yum

Hover and click.

I have no words today.

I am without words.


Living in a wordless world.

It could be worse.

I could have no close shot.

It could be Monday instead of Friday.


The Grinch Who Stole Friday.

You know what to do. Meet you in the bar in 3…2…1…


Single Shot Monday: What Can I Say…

Single Shot Monday today is brought to you by the G-Man, aka Mr. G, honey. My partner in crime photography and life.

Back at Market Square in Guelph’s downtown core. You’ll recognize the spot from here.

And why didn’t I get this shot, you ask?

Here’s how it went down.

We were strolling through Market Square in late October, taking in the colour, the rain, the wet glory that is autumn. I walked by Eric the Baker, sniffed, pivoted, and walked right in the door. We had read about this pastry shop in a Guelph tourism magazine. I ordered a cappuccino and a piece of deliciousness times two, and squeezed into the small bar stool counter at the window with my fellow patrons.

Happily munching away, I took in the sights and scents of the bakery. Lunch items were already being prepped, and there was a constant flow of traffic between the register and door. Eric was doing a brisk business. No surprise there. I wanted to eat everything.

Back to the window.

G-Man suddenly jumps up and grabs his camera and is out the door. I tore my eyes from the pastry cases and looked out the window. A crowd was gathering across the street, and I could see a man and woman standing in the water pool outside of City Hall. Huh.

I happily munched and watched and thought about taking a shot of all the people taking a shot of the man and woman standing ankle-deep in water. But I was in the sugar zone. It’s my drug of choice.

Only they weren’t standing.

He was standing.

She was…

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Hover and click.

And he and she turned out to be illusionist Ted Outerbridge and dancer/illusionist Marion Outerbridge of Outerbridge Clockwork Mysteries.

I hope they come to the Toronto area in the near future. Or even a day’s driving distance of the GTA. I’ll be first in line for a performance.

As for Eric the Baker, I guess pastry chef trumped illusionist. You can find Eric on Twitter at Eric the Baker @baker6555.

Sorry I missed the éclair, Eric.

Next time.

And Monday floats in on an illusion.


P.S. Thanks, Mr. G, for a great Single Shot Monday.

Close Shot Friday 077 +

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The lollapalooza that is autumn this year is about to come to an end.

I’m letting my psyche get all pruney in it.

It has to get me through the winter.

Not that winter doesn’t have a beauty all its own.

It does.

But autumn — lollapalooza, baby.

In other news ~

This morning, I watched fat snow flurries swirl through the air and thought about thermal undies, and where I could get them. Stat.

This morning, I washed my hair twice with conditioner before I figured out it wasn’t lathering because it wasn’t shampoo, and I thought about how a Molly Weasley Howler could have been used to prevent that scenario. The font on hotel guest amenities is teeny tiny.

This morning, I made steel cut oats with nuts and berries and flax seed and thought about Eggs Benedict — maybe a poutine version — with a side of maple bacon donut. No judging.

And finally, this morning I thought I’d better hunker down with the wip — work-in-progress — before the heroine does bodily harm to the hero.

Maybe he should bring her a maple bacon donut.

Okay. She just gave me the stink eye.


TGIF, baby.

You know what to do. Meet you in the bar in 3…2…1…


Hump Day Meets The Polar Vortex…

The north wind polar vortex doth blow,

And we shall have…

The internet is wonky today.

I’m blaming it on the polar vortex.

There is not enough walnut in my oatmeal this morning.

Yep. Polar vortex.

I’m having trouble following the plot of The Honourable Woman.

Polar vortex.

The zombie squirrel using my garden as a giant root cellar…

Under the influence of the PV.

Either that, or it must be Hump Day.


Something to take your mind off the polar vortex.

Or Hump Day.

Or whatever.

On the road ramble in late October, we swung through Guelph, Ontario. This is part of Market Square in the downtown core.

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You know I love a good bench. A good bench in the rain, even better.

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Guelph will not disappoint in the autumn. Wet, leaves, reflections on the stairs of the Church of Our Lady Immaculate, which watches over Market Square quietly, somberly, soberly, diligently.

I’m loving the ly words this morning.

These next three images were taken at the University of Guelph, Macdonald Stewart Art Centre, Donald Forster Sculpture Park. That is a mouthful.

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This is part of a 4-piece sculpture depicting the Canadian camping experience.

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Those socks looked warm. Even in bronze. I wanted to try them on for size. Boots, too. #canttakemeanywhere

The detail blows me away.

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Hands down, my favorite piece.

Here’s a link to the sculpture garden. Hover over any number and find out who created the piece and when. Click on a number and an image will pop up. 36 works in all. I swoon.

I’m out freezing my polar vortex off, bagging leaves as fast as I can. B.S.

Before snow.

Here be Hump Day.

Click over it.


Single Shot Monday: Translucence…

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Translucent Autumn

I just can’t get enough of this.

This being autumn.

Autumn color.

My neighbor’s maple tree is releasing its leaves into the wilds of Burbville.

Mostly my backyard.

Okay. His backyard, too.

We’re both living in a thick carpet of maple leaves right now. Only half are down.

We’re waiting.

And waiting.

When you can rake once, why rake twice?


Fitbit did not hear me say that.

Of course, raking twice is always better. Always.

Right, Fitbit?

And Monday blows in on a carpet of leaves.


Close Shot Friday 076

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Autumn On Wall

Hover and click.

We’re having a long and glorious autumn, though it did snow last Saturday. The first Saturday in November.

The first day of November.

Plenty of leaves are still clinging to trees, though this may be an act of desperation.

It would be for me.

The indoor snow mats have been placed by the doors.

Welcome to Uglyville. And by Uglyville, I mean winter in the Great White North.

We smoked ourselves right out of the casa with the first fire of the season.

That might’ve been my fault.


You see. I opened the damper on the flue when I was prepping the fireplace for the wood Mr. G was bringing in.

And Mr. G opened the damper on the flue when he was setting the wood and warming the chimney, thereby closing the damper on the flue.

Abbott and Costello.

Laurel and Hardy.

Tom and Jerry.

Frick and Frack.

I’d add Lucy and Ethel, but the G-Man might not appreciate being called Ethel. We all know that I am a Lucy. For reals.

It was the doomsday fire.

Ash was floating everywhere.

Smokes alarms sang in harmony.

Burbville wildlife rushed down the street two by two, honking and screeching, and generally raising a ruckus.

I’m still wearing a hat and sunglasses when I leave the house.

Moving right along.

I took this shot on the University of Guelph campus. It’s what’s on the side of the Macdonald Stewart Art Centre. The MSAC.

In other news ~

There is no other news.

TGIF, baby.

You know what to do. Meet you in the bar in 3…2…1…