the pomegranate tiger

Menu Choices Well, I'm ditching the Kahlua Mousse idea for dessert. It's delicious, but too much work. I'm going with simple and easy. While leafing through my old binder of recipes, I came across a dessert from one of my aunts that I haven't used in years. It's refreshing and light-tasting -- good following a heavy meal -- and very easy to make: Fruit-in-Snow 2 envelopes unflavoured gelatin 1/2 cup cold water 2 cups milk, scalded 1/2 cup sugar 2 cups light cream 1 T Almond extract (vanilla, if you don't like almond) 4 cups diced, prepared mixed fruits (or canned, well-drained) Soften gelatin in cold water. Add hot milk and sugar. Stir until gelatin and sugar are completely dissolved. Add cream and flavouring. Pour into pan to depth of about 3/4". Refrigerate until set. Cut into 3/4 inch cubes. Gently mix with fruit. Add a few maraschino cherries and it looks quite festive. As for the sweet potatoes versus yams decision, I've decided to go with a ...

The decorations are up, presents bought, and all I need are a few stocking stuffers. Things seem remarkably quiet for this time of year. Number one son and his s.o. have asked for my help in cooking their first roast turkey. They're providing the turkey at her family's gathering on Christmas eve. Then they will come to our house on Christmas day for another turkey dinner. In the past, I've tried to suggest a change in menu (duck, anyone?), but no one will hear of it. I'm looking forward to the day when I don't have to do the turkey and just need to show up and eat! Number two son is currently in New York City with his girlfriend, visiting some of her relatives. They're trying to cram in as many art galleries, museums, tourist must-sees and shopping as they possibly can. He called last night to say they're having a wonderful time. They'd just gotten back from the musical, Wicked and he loved it. He was a bit skeptical going into Wicked (he wanted ...

I give up. No more image in header.

Aaaargh! I still cannot get my header image to look the way I want it to look. I like to use the Minima Stretch template because it allows both posts and photos to "stretch" larger or smaller to fit whatever width of the window (i.e you don't get the right side of the page cut-off and have to use a scroll bar along the bottom of the page to view the rest of it). Just a personal preference of mine. Since the problem with the header images, I thought I'd make it easier by just changing to a template that was easier to fix. The header looked fine, but then I found that with a different (fixed width) template the wider photos I have on individual posts got cropped off. So,I've gone back to the original template and come up with a work-around that I'm not entirely happy with, but will have to suffice for now. I know I complained about this the other day , but it really bugs me. After reading the help discussion forums, it seems Blogger made a change in the wa...

I've always been a curious person. I cannot get enough information, trivia or details. I cannot stand not knowing about something once it enters my consciousness. Ask me something I'm not familiar with and I'm compelled to look it up. The problem is that it doesn't stop there. Once I find what I'm looking for, it inevitably sets off a chain reaction sending me further into cyberspace, ricocheting from one idea, word or concept to the next, sometimes for hours. I never end up anywhere close to where I started. Sometimes, I can't even remember what got me going unless I look back at my browsing history. Who was it that said curiosity killed the cat? Maybe one day I'll be found dead in front of my computer; hands still on the keyboard; typing one last query into the Google search bar . . . . Not such a bad way to go. *Another Encyclopedia of Me blog.

Sorry to those on feeds for so many edits. :( I've recently been going through my old blog posts and trying to update their tags and labels. It's been a rather onerous task. When I started blogging in November 2005, I had no idea what or how tags and labels worked, so I didn't label anything. Big mistake. I ended up with a long list of post titles, some of which were less than enlightening (what the heck did I talk about in Odds 'n Sods on a Sunday?). Thus, in order to gain some semblance of order to my posts, I decided that it's worth the effort to label them properly. This has meant going back and actually re-reading what I've written over the last two years. It's been a bit of an eye-opener. I barely remember some of the posts, yet others are as fresh in my memory as if I wrote them yesterday. I'm not done yet, but a few posts jumped out at me more than others. I've come to realize that the totality of all my posts really does capture who I am...

I have spent the better part of this evening trying to add an image to my blog header. It should have been easy. But it wasn't. I wanted to use the same picture that I used on Word Press. On WP it was very easy and it even had a built-in crop feature, so I didn't have to re-size the image before uploading it. I followed Blogger's edit feature, which seemed simple enough, but it wouldn't center the image properly. After I tried everything I could think of, I looked at Blogger's "Help" section. Well, it appears that I'm not the only person with this problem. They've been trying to fix the situation for a few days now and while their so-called fix helped some, it made the situation worse for others. Take a look at the help group discussion titled My Headers are messed up! I took the advice of one of the people in the discussion thread and changed the html on my template so it looks better, but it still isn't quite right. I'll take ano...

Rhea at The Boomer Chronicles posted this question on her site the other day : If you could pause the aging process, at what age would you choose to do it? Rhea's response was: I always liked 24, but now that I’m older, I would be happy to be around 34. I am blessed with good health and a sturdy body, so it’s not about that. I don’t really know WHAT it’s about. I just like the sound of 30s. The comments that followed were interesting. I was surprised at how many people wanted to be twenty or thirty-something again. Only a few said they wouldn't want to be younger. I'm pretty sure I don't want to go back to a younger age. The only possible reason I might want to halt aging would be for the physical benefits -- because I sure wouldn't want to revisit my younger years mentally or psychologically. It's tempting to dream of the physical benefits of a younger, fitter and, hopefully, healthier body and, at times, I think it would be nice to have young knees, a ...

I've been considering migrating this blog from Blogger to another platform. This is, in part, prompted by Blogger/Google's recent change in their comments link and trackback system. I'm considering Wordpress, Movable Type and Typepad. My main criteria: - Easy to import my current blogs to the new site - Flexibility and ease of use - Free or inexpensive My thoughts so far: I set up a new site on Wordpress and imported my x365 project over to see how it works. The import process was quite painless and I like the look of their templates. I also like the look of Typepad, but don't know too much about it. I think Movable Type is more than I need. I'd be happy to hear any opinions regarding the above platforms and any advice or suggestions. Or should I just stick it out with Blogger?

When I was about six years old, I had a walking doll. She looked a little like this: Walking dolls were all the rage in the 50s and mine had been given to me as a Christmas present. She was about twenty inches high and was the most beautiful doll I'd ever owned. One summer afternoon, when we'd run out of things to do and boredom was setting in, my cousin, Bobby, decided that it would be interesting to try and open up the doll and see what was inside. I thought it would be interesting too, but didn't think it was such a good idea. Cousin Bobby persisted. He assured me that it would be okay. It would be like an operation and we'd be able to put her back together again. He "promised". What did I know? He was a whopping two months older than me and always took charge about these things. Against my better judgment, I agreed. We found a pair of my grandmother's sewing scissors and Bobby set to work. With the pointy-end of the scissors, he poked a hole t...

Lately, I've come across several Encyclopedia of Me blogs. Some of them have been around for awhile and a good number have been abandoned. Still, I'm always looking for ideas to prompt my writing and this one seems to have merit. As far as I can tell, it originated with a meme dreamed up by Bella Dia in this post and she, in turn, got the idea from the book by Amy Krouse Rosenthal, titled Encyclopedia of an Ordinary Life . The instructions are simple: Write a post per day (or thereabouts) for one month using the alphabet from A to Z as the prompt. It can be about anything to do with your life - past or current. It can be short, long, serious or whimsical. Pretty much anything goes. Since there seem to be several variations of the original (just do a Google search and you'll find lots), I've also decided to do my own take on it. Instead of one letter per day for a month (and because I think this should be a pleasure, not a chore), I've decided not to have...

She's back!! Wooohooo! I just had to say it. Ronni Bennett is back today at Time Goes By . This morning, I clicked on TGB to read more comments about her departure . The last few mornings on TGB, there has been only a brief post about the latest story at the Elder Story Telling Place. Today, there was an actual TGB post. At first, I thought it might be a guest blogger. But no, the first few lines sounded like Ronni. I quickly scrolled down to the by-line and there it was, "posted by Ronni Bennett". She's written a lovely, heartfelt post about her feelings and decisions over the last few days. I was always hopeful she'd be back in some form or other, but wasn't sure when or where. I'm so very glad she's back now. We can never have too many voices speaking out about injustices and the important human issues we face today. The comments on her blog this week, show just how far-reaching one voice can be. Christmas Shopping Well, I've put o...

It's been a couple of days now and I'm slowly coming to terms with Ronni Bennett's decision to shut down her blog, Time Goes By . It was a shock to me and many of her devoted readers. The last time I looked, there were over 100 comments to her "resignation" post. And 'shock' is the right word. I couldn't believe it. Even as I read Ronni's entire post explaining her reasons, I couldn't quite wrap my brain around the idea that she wouldn't be posting at TGB anymore. I guess I had come to expect that she would always be there, expressing my precise thoughts and feelings about aging, health care and other important societal issues much more coherently than I ever could. When I started blogging two years ago, her site and voice was one of the first that made me sit up and shout, "Yes!!" Finally, here was someone willing to write about a segment of the population that society wants to ignore. She taught me a lot. I thought I was...

I found this old black and white photo in a bag of old pictures that an aunt gave me many years ago. I remember briefly flipping through them at the time and thinking I should find out more about them. I put them away in a drawer and only recently took another look. Most of the pictures didn't have any identifying information. They were snapshots of a time and place vaguely familiar, yet mysterious at the same time. I'm sorry I didn't sit down with my aunt (who died several years ago) and go through them one by one. However, this particular picture had an inscription on the back: You can see where the original writing has faded and someone has written over it in a darker ink. The closer I looked at this picture, the more I recognized the girl in the picture as one of my aunts (not the one who gave me the photos). I thought of her back in 1915 and imagined her on a family outing to Second Beach. I wondered what she did dressed in her sailor outfit and broad-brimmed hat....

or "Are you sure we turn here?" There's something exciting about not quite knowing where you're going. For the sake of this prompt, I'm talking about walks, but it could apply to life in general. This prompt has also given me the opportunity to revisit my trip to Rome taken almost exactly one year ago . It's not that I don't know where I'm going, it's just that I'm not quite sure how to get there. I'd spent months prior to our trip armed with a multitude of maps and guides and had a pretty good mental map of central Rome. Or so I thought. Funny how places aren't quite the same when you actually get there. We were leaving Castel Sant'Angelo where we'd spent the last two hours combing the dark and slightly creepy stone corridors and surveying the expanse of Rome from the parapets. It was nearing twilight and we wanted to see the Trevi Fountain before searching out a place for dinner. So, out we head into darkening Rome. I...

Whenever I want to pass some time in idle silliness, I can always count on Blogthings . Still, it's reassuring to know my Bachelor of Science in Nursing hasn't been wasted! You Passed 8th Grade Science Congratulations, you got 8/8 correct! Could You Pass 8th Grade Science?

I've seen this book meme (with slight variations) floating around for quite some time and always wanted to try it. Since it seems it's a "no blog idea" day, today is as good a time as any to give it a go. Please feel free to join in. I'm always curious to find out what others are reading, so if you want to add a few words (as I am) about the book, please do. And also because I'm nosy, I'd like to tag: Wenda at Daring to Write Joy at Joys News Donny at Rambleville Junebugg at Wasted Days Wasted Nights Instructions: Grab the nearest book. Open the book to page 123. Find the fourth sentence. Post the next three sentences along with these instructions. Don’t search around and look for the “coolest” book you can find. Do what’s actually next to you. State the book title and author. So, here's mine: Support for such a "minimal state" came from a variety of viewpoints that otherwise made strange bedfellows: anarchists, libertarians, n...

I just remembered I'm supposed to send in the update for my annual nursing class newsletter by this Saturday. We cleverly (or not so) named it the NUSletter (for Nursing Undergrad Society). If I remember correctly – and I may be completely wrong -- the idea was borne out of one of our last class get-togethers when we were waxing nostalgic and wondering if we'd ever see each other again. We decided a yearly newsletter would be a terrific idea -- we could all send brief letters telling our classmates what we'd been up to for the year. We chose October 31 (Halloween) as the yearly submission date, figuring it was an easy date to remember. One of our most dedicated and organized classmates (Sue) volunteered to be the recipient and compiler. We got her address, dutifully gave her our addresses and promised to update her with address changes. So it began. Back in the early seventies, we sent typewritten (preferably) letters to Sue. She then took all the letters and re-ty...

Today, I've done something I've been reluctant (scared) to do since I started blogging. It may not seem like much to most of you, but for me, it's a biggie. I've posted a photo of myself in my Blogger profile. I've always had a certain paranoia and self-consciousness about revealing too much about myself online. Slowly, but surely, I've been getting over it by writing on this blog. As I surfed around the blogosphere and got to read and know other bloggers through their writing - some of which was highly personal and intimate - I felt better about revealing more about my real life. I'll never be a tell-all type of blogger, but I'm not quite so paranoid anymore. Another fear I've had is one of showing pictures of myself to others. As a child I always thought I was ugly and hated to see photos of myself. My cousins were always prettier and cuter. I was the ugly duckling. I've been stuck in that mindset ever since. I've decided it's ti...

On my Sunday hopscotch through the blogosphere, I stumbled upon some new gems and rediscovered a couple that had been languishing unread amongst my soon-to-be-pruned bookmarks. I thought I'd share them with you. Older, but no wiser I haven't visited this blog for ages, but now remember why I bookmarked it. I'm accustomed to reading personal and introspective blogs from women, but Andy's was the first I found from a middle-aged man. He has been blogging since 2003. Serendipity Luminescent Interesting photos from an old acquaintance I met on a forum years ago. It's so long since I checked his blog that this one (Serendipity) is a re-direct from the original which he stopped in June 2006. Woolgathering Elizabeth Perry is an artist and author living in Pittsburgh, PA. and Woolgathering is where she posts her daily sketchbook and notes. It's a glimpse into daily life through the eyes of an artist. She also does a fair number of watercolours –one of my favourit...

When and how so swift? Once revered, loved and respected Valued and embraced for their wisdom An integral part of life. Now denied, ignored, and ridiculed Pushed away, out of sight, out of mind To segregated communities Or warehouses for the unabled. Stories once told and passed among family Now only heard by segregated others Or strangers in white. The elders are the same It's we who've changed.

Crabby Old lady (aka Ronni Bennett) recently posted an article on TGB where she takes Oprah Winfrey to task for the implicit promotion of youth-obsession and age-denial on her eponymous show. Crabby says, “That Oprah incessantly harps on youth and beauty is even more unforgivable in light of her enormous cultural clout. Imagine how elders’ lives could be changed, how age discrimination could be reduced or even eliminated, how elders would gain in respect of society if Oprah would get over her obsession with youth and accept aging as the normal and remarkable stage of life it is.” I’m so glad Crabby wrote this because it’s bothered me for years that Oprah’s vision of women has so much to do with their outward appearance. It’s been niggling away at my brain ever since I saw one of Oprah’s "makeover" shows. She arranged makeovers of a number of women, including older women (older meaning fifty-ish, so not very old) by colouring their hair (gotta get rid of those pesky grey ...

EDIT: Last night, in my haste to post this, I omitted a part of the cut and paste. Here is the newly edited version with the missing part in Italics. This morning around 9:15, I was happily making my way through some favourite blogs and checking out some new ones. I had just gotten a great idea and about to start a new blog, when – poof! The power went out. I wasn't too surprised because we'd been having a windstorm overnight and it was still pretty gusty this morning. Our neighbourhood always seems to get hit with outages – something to do with where we are in the electrical grid – but it's usually restored pretty quickly. If not within minutes, then within a few hours at most. I wasn't concerned so much as a little miffed that I had put off making myself a cup of coffee in favour of logging onto the computer first. After about an hour still with no power, DH and I decided that we might as well go out for breakfast. We arrived at our usual breakfast place (fro...

Left Brain According to his list, Lou had precisely four chores to accomplish before noon: Go to the bank, deposit a refund cheque and take out exactly $155. Drop off his grey suit at the drycleaners and make sure it would be ready for pick up by Tuesday, 5 pm; Go to the liquor store and purchase an Australian shiraz he'd read about in Gismondi's column last week. Go to Granville Island Public Market and pick up fixings for dinner: - French baguette at his favourite bakery - Fresh salad greens and cherry tomatoes (at one of two possible grocers, depending on how fresh things looked) - Balsamic vinegar - (2) ¾ inch thick New York strip loins from his favourite butcher - (6) Chocolate truffles He systematically ticked off each item as he accomplished them, carefully following the order on the list so he wouldn't have to back-track. This was very important to Lou. He hated back-tracking and always planned his car routes ahead of time to save both time and gas. He eve...

I was reading Here In The Hills ' blog celebrating her 400th post and listening to the embedded YouTube clips of Audra McDonald. (For those of you who don't know, Audra McDonald is a wonderful actress/singer and multiple Tony Award winner. If I had to name anyone that I felt was born for Broadway musical theatre, she'd be near - if not at - the top of the list.) Anyways, watching Ms McDonald and listening to the Gershwin and Stephen Sondheim songs reminded me how much I love musical theatre. It combines all things theatrical that I love -- dancing, singing, and acting – and when done right, wraps them into a larger than life spectacle that lingers long after the final curtain. My love of musicals started way back in childhood when, as an unsupervised eight year old, I'd watch late-night Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers movies. I dreamed of being a dancer. Later, in high school, I lived with relatives who bought cast albums of all the Broadway hit musicals of the time...

I've been catching up on various blogs and, as usual, left Ronni Bennett's to the end because I know she'll have lots for me to think about. She didn't disappoint. Her recent blogs titled When the Future is Shorter Than the Past and On Fear of Aging and Death made me stop and question my own feelings about aging. Please bear with me as I let these thoughts rumble around. Ronni talks about observing a certain "disengagement" in older people as they approach death; and about her coming to terms with not being able to do everything she had thought was important in her younger years. She says, "But halfway through my seventh decade, I can already detect a less urgent desire to know these things. Not much yet, but noticeable particularly as that impossible to-do list for my elder years recedes in importance." Hmmm. Disengagement. Ronni is one of the last people in the world that I'd consider disengaged. Yet if she notices it within herself,...

I've been away again. Not long ago, I had a conversation with an acquaintance about vacations and travel. She's about my age and was a prominent neonatologist until she had to retire because of health and mobility problems. Over the years, she made a good income and some very good investments. She's trying to do some traveling now, but it's not easy. To quote her, "When I was younger, I was healthy and able to travel, but too busy working and making money. Now, I have the time and the money, but don't have the health." This is a recurring theme that I hear from others. It's motivation to keep active and going as long as I can. I'm determined to travel as often and as to as many places as this ole body and my bank account can take. You just never know what's around the corner. As usual I spent a lot of time observing the passing parade and striking up conversations with almost anyone and everyone with the time and inclination. From my no...

I've been absent. For those of you who've stopped by and seen the same boot camp post for the last month, I apologise. It's not that I haven't thought of posting, just that I didn't. No excuses. No rationale. I just didn't. Unfortunately, I'll be away (or scarce) in the next month as well. But before I go, some thoughts that rumbled through my brain this week: What's with the pixelated nipples? I was channel-surfing one night and came across a new reality slash documentary show about a Beverly Hills plastic surgeon on an American TV network station. He seems to specialize in breast augmentation. Fine. The part I saw showed a woman who wanted breasts as large as her friend (who'd already had breast augmentation). To demonstrate the type of breasts she wanted, they got the friend to take off her shirt and show her boobs. Fine. So they show her in all her topless glory of 40++ DDDDs (not really sure about the size, but they were huge!). The...

So I finished Survivor Boot Camp last Friday. It's taken me a few days to mull it over and get my thoughts together about the whole experience. First of all, I didn't miss a single session. Twenty days. No mean feat for someone who likes to go to bed late and truly hates getting up early. At the beginning, I didn't know if I'd make it. The by-product is that I now consider getting up at 7 a.m. sleeping in. I'm stronger, leaner, and fitter than I've been in years. By the final Fit Test day, I improved in all areas and even managed to lose a few pounds and several inches from my jigglier parts. My snug pants aren't as snug and, by gum, I think I even look taller! I'm still not the svelte thing I was in my thirties, but that's okay. I'm impressed with the fact that I kept up to the thirty-somethings – well, all except for the running – and in the strength areas, surpassed some of them. At times, it was painful – especially those first two wee...

When I first ventured into the blogosphere, almost two years ago, one of the first blogs that really captured my attention was Ronni Bennett's, Time Goes By . I've been an avid reader ever since. Recently, she invited me (along with others) to write a guest blog while she was on vacation, I was thrilled and very flattered. My contribution is on her blog today and you can find it here . If you're not familiar with Ronni's site, please take a look around and have a good read. You'll be glad you did.

One of the benefits of maturing is learning how to handle disagreements without getting fuming mad. It's not that I don't get annoyed or angry; it's that I can let it go much easier. There were times, not so long ago, that if I disagreed with someone and knew in my heart of hearts that they were wrong, I was convinced it was my duty; nay, my moral obligation to show them the error of their ways. In retrospect, I don't think it had much to do with proving them wrong. It was more about proving that I was right. I still remember a discussion - slash – argument with a good friend in college. It was about – are you ready for this? – how winds are named (e.g. westerly, southerly, etc.). My friend said winds were named for the direction in which they blew. In other words, she said a wind blowing from the east towards the west would be called a Westerly. I knew she was wrong because I distinctly remembered my Geography 12 teacher drilling it into us that winds are na...

Every so often I like to play around with Blogthings . I came across this one about cooking. I love food and come from a family of very good cooks. I learned most of what I know through osmosis - hanging around watching and helping my grandmother and aunts cook. We (the womenfolk) had great cooking marathons for special occasions. My aunts and female cousins, led by my grandmother, would cram into the kitchen and cook from morning 'til night to make pastries, dumplings and other goodies for Christmas, New Years (twice, because we celebrated both western and Chinese), Easter, important birthdays - really any time the extended family expected to gather. It was for socializing as much as it was for cooking. I miss those days. Now, most of the aunts have died, grandma is gone, and the cousins are scattered all over. The closest thing to this type of gathering is when I do Thanksgiving or Christmas dinner and my family gathers around the kitchen while I cook. It's not the sa...

It's hard to believe there's only one week left. The past week has seen things ratcheted up another notch of intensity. Instead of doing two sets of twenty reps, we're doing two or three sets of thirty reps; instead of two minutes at each station for circuit training, we're doing three minutes at each station. It may not seem like much, but let me tell you, that extra minute of push-ups, squats, and lunges make your muscles scream, "Please, STOP!". I've found that I can handle most of the endurance and strength things pretty well. That's probably because I'm a stubborn ol' bird and refuse to give in. The jumping, running and impact activities are another matter. My knees really don't like all the jarring, so I've modified some of the exercises and have resigned myself to being slow and steady. I have no intention trying to keep up with the young'uns. They have resilient bodies that recover in half the time that mine does. W...

I'm resurrecting another Lydia story (with a few minor tweaks) that was originally posted on First Drafts in February 2006. That site is no longer active, so I decided it might be a good idea to keep my posted writing in one place. I've previously explained how bad I am at keeping my computer files in any semblance of order. I'm hoping Blogger, with its label system, will help. This piece is from the prompt, "Impervious" . Lydia was sitting at her computer. Nothing. She’d done a couple of writing exercises to warm up, but couldn’t produce anything else. At least nothing she wanted to keep. She kept gazing out the window. The clear blue sky was inviting. She checked the weather channel - minus two Celsius – not bad. Better to be outside getting some much-needed exercise than staring blankly at the computer monitor. It was still early, not yet noon. There was time to take a short drive up the mountain and hike one of the short trails off Mt Seymour Parkway...

Joared's blog, Violation, brought back vivid memories of our own house break-in. I recall almost every detail. Our sons were still in elementary school and the family had been away for a few days of skiing before Christmas. We came home in the evening and noticed the blinds in our bedroom were slightly pulled back. Hadn't we closed them? We entered the house and noticed the kitchen window was ajar. This should have sent us straight to the telephone to call the police. But for some reason -- perhaps denial -- we stupidly proceeded upstairs to the bedrooms. All the bedrooms had been ransacked, the drawers opened and the contents dumped onto the floor. All the boys' CDs and videos had been taken as well as their sports and movie collectibles. We eventually called the police and, as in Joared's case, they figured the culprits were probably pretty young and inexperienced (they had found my jewellery, but took the cheap costume pieces - presumably because they wer...

Today is B.C. Day, a statutory holiday in British Columbia , so it feels like a Sunday to me; the only difference being that I started the day with Boot Camp. Once I got that out of the way, I fell into my usual Sunday morning routine of surfing through old and new blogs. I found a goldmine of new and interesting blogs through Imagine What I'm Leaving Out and kenju's post about her Creative Bloggers Award. From that one post, I found: Kay's Thinking Cap which led me to: Joy of Six The View From Where I Sit and Along the Way which led me to Golden Lucy's Spiral Journal I've bookmarked them all and will be returning for more. Then it was back to my own blog to read a comment left by Junebugg of Wasted Days Wasted Nights whom I added to my blogroll a couple of weeks ago. And now, here I am to pass along my finds - though I suspect many of you have already discovered the above blogs because I see lots of familiar names amongst the various blogrolls. It rein...

I'm doing other things besides boot camp. Really, I am. Number One Son and his girlfriend are moving into a new apartment and they've co-opted me into helping them paint it this week. I'm the resident interior paint expert, having painted just about every room in every place (5) we've lived in over the past thirty-odd years. The apartment is quite spacious for an older one-bedroom – about 760 square feet - with lots of windows and hardwood floors. The previous tenant, however, was a bit of a slob and left things in a pretty grungy state. I told NOS I'd help paint, but THEY had to deal with the cleaning! And they did, too. The first job was the bedroom which had been painted a deep dark BLOOD RED (if I knew how to make "blood red" appear to be dripping, I would). I'm not sure what state of mind the previous renter was in when he painted it this colour, but I probably don't want to know. It was like entering a dark and dismal gothic cave. Aft...