Last night, well...

It was a magical night.

We went to see this Paul McFrickin'-Cartney.


I'm telling you, it was three solid hours of Awesome Sir Paul. The guy was a machine, never stopping for a break until the very end. The roar of the crowd brought him back for another 1/2 hour of encores. It was amazing to see people of my generation and older rocking away to his music, but also kids in their twenties, even pre-teens, totally into the music, dancing in their seats and pumping their arms in the air. I have to admit, I teared up at some of the songs and photos as we all remembered Linda and John and George. And I thought back to those endless summer days of my childhood, when I carried my transistor radio into a nearby field, and stretched out on a blanket to listen to the Beatles.

Happy, happy sigh.

A Cat Goes Missing

And the owner asks a friend to make a poster.

http://theneave.com/david-thorne-missing-missy/

In keeping with the cat theme, a shot of me and The Boris.



(Thanks to my niece Laura. She knows what tickles her auntie's funny bone.)

Hummingbirds

These are for kc dyer who asked if I had any hummingbird photos. The photos are from last summer, but I'm pretty sure the same hummers are back this year. They are very familiar.

If I wear red, they'll buzz right up into my face.

Needless to say, I don't wear red. It's like swatting away very large insects.

How do you get around?

When you travel, I mean.

Do you walk, take a bus, tram or metro?

Do you drive a car? Fly a plane like my buddy Bruce?

Ride a horse or motorcycle or donkey?

Would you rollerskate? Hop on a skateboard? Curl up in a Winnebago?

Or would you consider a bicycle trip across Scotland like this fellow?

My Next Car

Is going to be THIS one. That's right, an actual flying car.

My husband should be happy because now I will stop pestering him to buy a Seadoo or a portable Jet Pack. By the way, when you look at the JetMan's website, you'll see a video. As I watched the beginning, I was confused as to which one of the two men was the JetMan. The obvious one was the guy with the cool jacket and Fabio coiffure, but then the old guy with the shaved head just screamed the message, "You're not the boss of me, life!"

I'm guessing he's not married. ("You're going to do WHAT now? When I said you needed a hobby how did you hear 'strap some jet fuel on your back and jump off the Grand Canyon?' I meant golf or military whist.")

And also, a helmet, really? You're hurling yourself over the Grand Canyon, JetMan. What do you expect a helmet to do, exactly? Keep your head warm before you turn it into scrambled eggs on the canyon floor? I kid, JetMan. You know I love you and your big plate of crazy. And the guys and gals at TED like you, too.

But, seriously a flying car? It's so...Mrs. Jetson. You can run errands in a flying car and bring home a carton of milk. Can you do that, JetMan? Do you even stop to think, as you're flying around the canyon or across the English Channel, that the family home may be out of toilet paper?

Next time someone tells me to "take off, eh"* now I can.

Also, nerds rule.



*Anyone who can name the source of that most Canadian of quotes gets a free space shuttle! No Googling. I can see your fingers from here.

Plot Device

Maybe some of you won't find this nearly as funny as I did, but I'll bet the writers and movie fans out there will love this bit of silliness.

Enjoy.

thanks to Pub Rants for the link.

So there

1. I thought I saw an bald-headed eagle fly right past me this week, but I wasn't 100% sure because it was obscured by some cedars down by the waterfront. My kids made me doubt myself, no way they said, this isn't even the right habitat for eagles. Google confirmed it was, and sure enough, as I sat on the dock at sunset last night, another eagle (or perhaps, the same eagle) flew right in front of me. There was no doubt this time.

That there was one big old Bald Eagle.

2. Last Friday, we experienced a huge storm that sneaked up on us after dark. Usually there's some sort of buildup, you know, so you can prepare yourself as the thunder claps creep closer but this storm just crashed above our heads in an instant. I flinched and maybe screamed a little after one particularly brutish crack that shook the windows, and me, to my very bones.

Again, one of the beloved fruits of my loins told me to get a grip and stop over-reacting. I responded by reminding said fruit that since four trees (four!) on our property have in fact been hit directly by lightening over the past few years (and one neighbour's septic tank, and one of my husband's patient's entire bathroom wall) I didn't think screaming and putting my hands over my ears was over-reacting, but in fact, acting the way one should when faced with random lightening bolts. She (fruit) said I wasn't helping matters and I was "ruining her enjoyment of a good thunderstorm."

I ran into my neighbour yesterday. She said that large boom actually split a tree in two, right to its roots, and knocked out her power, blew up her (brand new) flat screen TV and her pump amongst other things. I'm guessing that ruined her enjoyment of a good thunderstorm.

I think that's worth a hand over the ears and a scream or two, don't you?

And in other news, we saw a mink swimming in the water alongside our kayaks. He came up for air a couple of times then scooted off into the bushes at the point. Then my husband saw a little red fox by the cottage two doors down. Then a female loon swam past with a tiny baby perched on her back.

It's like a Disney movie around here. Except for the thunder and lightening.

What do cannibals do at weddings?

They toast the bride and groom.

There is no theme here. I just like cannibal jokes.

E.g. Why don't cannibals eat clowns?

They taste funny.

Have a great weekend everyone.

Bonne fin de semaine!


And if anyone was wondering about the words to Praan by Garry Schyman (in that beautiful soldiers coming home video) here is the translation:

The same stream of life that runs through my veins night and day

runs through the world and dances.

It is the same life that joyously shoots through the dust of the earth in countless blades of grass

and breaks into tumultuous waves of leaves and flowers.

It is the same life that is rocked in the ocean-cradle of birth and of death,

in ebb and in flow.

I feel my limbs are made glorious by the touch of this world of life.

And my pride is from the life-throb of ages dancing in me.

Hugh Grant is my hero

Happy July 4th

To all my American friends from far and wide, Happy fourth of July!

Barbecues, fireworks, parades, fairs, picnics and most of all, family.

Found 'em

A few flower shots...





And some squirrel damage....