Posts Tagged ‘crazy stuff’
October 29th, 2011
The beaver has officially been one of our national symbols since 1975, but we are now in a public debate about whether to replace the beav with the Coca Cola polar bear. I roll my eyes.
It’s one of our national symbols largely because Canada was founded and flourished on the fur trade — Hello! Beaver pelts = hats for Europeans. Poor Beaver!! — and because of its industrious nature. Build, beaver, build! I guess we consider ourselves to be beaver-like in our work ethic.
It has been suggested that the beaver is nothing more than a toothy, overly-large, ugly rodent, while the polar bear is more pleasing to the eye… more dignified…and lacking in sexual connotation. Yes. These are some of the salient points of this debate.
versus
Personally, I want to fall down laughing. Do we not have more pressing issues in this country — and around the world — than to waste time in the Senate debating this issue? Is this really how my tax dollars are being utilized? Please turn down the lights in the Senate, because this is a waste of precious electricity.
And how will this impact the tourism industry in Canada? What will the BeaverTail confection be replaced with? Polar Bear ears? Yes, that was tongue-in-cheek, but…seriously, Canada?
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I’ll let you be the judge. Comment away.
Perilously close to a rant, for sure.
October 1st, 2011
I know this because it’s late Friday night — technically, early Saturday morning — and the neighborhood is abed. I can’t hear any street chatter from my window over the garage. No one is sitting on their front stoop smoking a cigarette, while a neighbor leans against their garage door sipping on something cold and foamy. The sultry heat of summer is over, and it is gravely quiet. Quiet as the grave.
We’ve had a snap. A snap in the weather, of the cold variety. We’re hovering between summer and fall. Somewhere. Out there. One day it’s 70 Faren with a measurable humidex; the next it’s 63, and the winds they are a whippin’ through the plains.
And may I just say that the stupid spiders are hieing indoors on their hairy legs, and it’s freaking me out. One just scurried across my office ceiling, and I had to stop writing this post and scream like a girl encourage him into an alternate universe.
Where was I? Oh, yes.
We’re somewhere between summer and fall. A few leaves have begun to drop to the ground, even less are turning color. Mr. G, honey and I went on a quest last Sunday for fall color. After questing here and questing there, we discovered that the most brilliant was a maple tree at the end of our lane, not far from that hole that sucked most of my intertoobs out of the atmosphere earlier this week.
There are still tomatoes growing in the yard, but there’s also a patio pot with kale, ornamental peppers and chrysanthemum cohabiting in it. There are even some daylilies hanging onto a bloom or two.
There are two fat, orange pumpkins lazing on the kitchen patio, while pretty pink fairy roses are begetting and blooming like crazy in the new frontscape.
Which brings me to this. Remember when I wrote about…
Pumpkin? Squash? Zucchini? Whatevers?
Well…
Love the updo.
Peek-a-boo.
Hello, Miss Mini.
Whether or not it is of the edible variety, I cannot say. There are edible mini pumpkins. Yet, I cannot say. Say, I cannot.
Who could eat that sweet baby anyway?
Between midnight and morn, the neighborhood continues to remain gravely quiet.
Shh.
September 6th, 2011
…growing out of the compost bin.
You thought I would be blogging about something more titillating the day after the Labor Day weekend? The day school starts in my neck of Canadaland? Sadly, no. But I should get some points for using the word “titillating” right out of the gate, post long weekend.
Back in June, I showed you some Columbine growing out of the front vent of the compost bin. Here is what’s been going on since then.
August 15 ~
Pumpkin? Squash? Zucchini? Whatevers?
August 21 ~
I know not.
August 29 ~
We like it here. We’re not leaving.
Hello, elephant ears!
September 5 ~
Growth spurt!
What do you think? Pumpkin?
We’ve hopped the fence and are making a run for it.
Get out of the way, Hosta. There’s some nice cedar mulch out there, and we’re heading for it.
I’ll probably have to clip this back when it gets to the front walk. There must be a city ordinance somewhere about migrant pumpkin-squash-zucchini-whatevers.
Let me know if it makes it over to your place.
