the pomegranate tiger

Being unable to come up with anything original today, I've decided to try this Photo Meme I found at Imagine . Instructions: Go to the file where you keep photos on your computer, open the fourth file, then choose the fourth photo in the file. Describe. This is what I found: It's a picture of my bedside table taken on January 21, 2006. I took it to post on a forum I frequent. I believe we were having a discussion about what we were reading that turned into what our reading piles actually looked like. In other words this messy pile of books amounts to my "currently reading" list as of three years ago (where does the time go?). I almost always have more than one book on the read at any given time, but I must say the books here are a bit atypical in that I don't normally read so many non-fiction books at one time. What's there and my thoughts (starting front, left): The Blind Assassin by Margaret Atwood was a quick re-read for an upcoming discussion. The Bl...

I've been in the long, slow process of scanning old photos and came across this black & white of me on my wedding day. It was taken by a cousin who was into photography at the time. That's my father in the background just prior to putting on my headpiece/veil thingy and before leaving the house for the ceremony. I can't remember what I was thinking at the time. I know I wasn't scared. It's hard to tell from this photo.

I took this picture because it reminded me of the courtyard at the Castel Sant'Angelo in Rome. It looks like a military garrison (complete with cannon in a corner), but is actually the entry to government buildings. There was a huge gate but nobody around, so I snuck around the corner and took a quick shot. A small local craft market: Lovely little house: I could have spent hours here - cold drink in hand, maybe a book to read while lying in the hammock: Heading back: The big hole in this pier didn't seem to bother anyone. Our ship in the background: Home away from home: We didn't have nearly enough time in Bonaire. I wouldn't mind taking a land-based vacation here. At any rate, land or sea next time, we'll definitely go snorkeling.

To make it easier to load, I'm splitting up my pictorial (the lazy writer's travelogue) into separate posts. As previously mentioned, I loved our little stop in Bonaire. We didn't have much time, so decided to spend it strolling along the waterfront area of Kralendijk, Bonaire's capital. I'm not much of a shopper, so avoided going into "town" and the shops. For those unfamiliar, Bonaire is part of the Netherland Antilles and along with Curacao and Aruba form what is often referred to as the ABC Islands of the Lesser Antilles. This is at the beginning of our walk: In the distance you can see black smoke billowing off the water. More about that later. Interesting buildings and architecture along the way: I couldn't quite figure out if this was a bar or a closed restaurant: The water was unbelievably clear (but what's with the black smoke?): We saw lots of parrotfish that swam right up to the seawall: Fisherman and his fish: Fisherman of a differe...

(Another Encyclopedia of Me blog G is for Games In the last decade, console games like X-Box, Nintendo 360, Playstation and Wii have overtaken pc games in popularity. But darn it all, I miss those old computer games! They were a pain to install – drivers to download, graphics cards to tweak or upgrade – and by today's standards, they were clunky and slow. Yet I have such fond memories of them. Okay, to look at me, you wouldn't think I was a computer game junkie. But let me tell you, I spent more hours than you might imagine, late at night (and the kids were in bed) trying to work the catapult in BIT, wandering the lonely, spooky levels of Myst, and following clues to the underworld of Grim Fandango with Manny. Hours I will never get back - but oh so much fun. The games I liked best were puzzle oriented. I wasn't good at shoot 'em up or sports games. Give me a good puzzle any day. A few of my all-time favourites (in no particular order): Myst The Dig King...

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...

I love the neighbourhood around my office. It's like an anachronistic small town plopped in the centre of a modern, vibrant city. It's full of renovated heritage homes, mature trees and luscious gardens. Each home different and unique. It's a neighborhood that actually feels like a neighborhood -- the antithesis of the cookie-cutter homes found in suburban subdivisions. It wasn't always like this. Not too many years ago, the homes around here were run down and seedy. The older generation had moved on, moved out or died. Homes once lovingly cared for were left to die a slow death to the wrecking ball or condo development. Luckily, and just in the nick of time, people came to their senses and realized the importance of preserving something of the past. I love that these old beauties have been restored. A new generation of young families are gradually moving in. There is evidence of babies, toddlers and the clutter of strollers and squeak toys. Sometimes, progress and ...

Los Angeles County Museum of Art I could have spent days here, but only had a few hours. These are mostly architectural details I found interesting, rather than the displays themselves (any art book will do a better job at reproductions than me). And terribly meta: From the Asian Arts building:

Snippets and images: Everyone walks. It’s late at night and the streets are still clogged with pedestrians. Families out for an evening stroll; three generations strung along the narrow cobblestones; mom and dad pushing a stroller; toddler hanging onto mom’s coat; grandfather with black-scarved grandma on the crook of his arm, ambling along behind. Hordes of tourists – though not as many as in the summer, so I’m told – necks craning up, left, right. They can’t get enough (I can’t get enough); sights, sounds; one minute in a bright piazza, cameras flashing all round; next minute round the corner, a dark alley-like street with the only light coming from candles on the tables of the sidewalk cafes that seem to spring from every available doorway. Narrow streets (what would be deemed alleys or laneways at home), alternate with wide-open piazzas centred by fountains, obelisks, statues or any combination thereof. Sidewalk cafes are everywhere. It seems every restaurant is also a sidewa...