When Winter Attacks

December 4, 2017

Someone (Bill) kicked my ass and so I'm making a post to tantalize (!) you all, as the seasons have changed once more, and that means updates must be provided. I'm told this is a law.

It's gotten chilly. Good chilly, where you step outside at night and breathe in that cool, lung-cooling sea air. The sort of chilly where you can still get away with a thick sweater and no coat, but you don't dare eat a peppermint and take a deep breath. Then you step inside and have to put on the heater, a blanket, and that same sweater, thick enough to insulate an igloo. I like it. Sadly, it's also rainy season here so days that aren't chilly are wet, and that means my wipers are getting a workout and stopping distances have increased. At least it's not ice.

In an attempt at frivolous festivity, I put the Christmas tree up last week. This is uncommonly early for me. Usually I'm a "not till December and even then, you wait a week" mentality, but what with the grey skies and the rain I just wanted a nice, pretty-lighted pick me up. So I opened some wine (as encouragement because wine helps make all pleasant tasks ten times more pleasant) and did it. And I've been smug and pleased with myself since. I like nice lights and a TV fireplace - I prefer a real fireplace but as I don't have one, Netflix fireplace it is - Now I have coloured lights UP THE WAZOO and all my extremities are happy.

It was my birthday the other day as well, so the two things sort of overlapped and made November less of a grey monotony. I have a helium birthday balloon hanging from the tree top in fact. If hanging is the right word here (it isn't), since it's floating up. I like a measure of confusion with my festivities. I will say, about the birthday, there was a rather wonderful cappuccino cake with gooey chocolate topping and real, fresh cream filling. Oh my God. I thought I'd gone to heaven. I don't have cake much these days so I wanted to stick my whole face in it. I didn't, however, as I am a lady. Or I had company, one of those things. If I'd been alone, sure, I'd have gorged myself silly, like a zombie in the ball pit at Ikea.

Anyway, winter has brought with it some awesome stormy skies. Here's a photo I took last week or so, of it looking all dramatic and sexy.

And here's a boring phone one from this morning of my favourite coffee shop - my car! Cheers.

Not that I'm anti-social or anything. Well not much. Okay, I sort of am. I'd have coffee with YOU of course, but you weren't here.

Other than this I'm working and driving between printers and grocery stores and Starbucks way too much, and pretty much being a-ok. I wish I had something more juicy for you but hey. I'm not your Netflix, buddy.

Merry Christmas Hanukkah Kwanzaa things! Say hi.

Seasonal Check In

It's funny how the moment the calendar becomes September, I have the urge to go buy some ugly, but oh so soft, slippers, new PJs and some candles. That's autumn to me. Nice lighting and enough cosy, woolly products to smother an entire kindergarten. Particularly when I'm living in a really old, nineteenth century house, that doesn't know what insulation is.

And of course, wine. I mean wine's for every season, it's true, but it just goes along with all the cosy, no? It does, because I live inside of a Hallmark movie.

Talking of movies, (because damn if I cannot segue like a boss!) I just need some good horror movies, because those also go with autumnal things. Trouble is, there are so few good ones. There are about three trillion terrible horror movies, however. If anyone has any suggestions of some good ones I might not have seen, let me know! I'm not big on paranormal type horrors, or anything that's just a jump-scare slasher film. I like tense! Tense and slow building, and the less gory the better, although I make exceptions. I guess I like horror/thrillers maybe?

Talking of horror movies, I vacuumed under the bed the other day. Yikes. You don't want to know what sinister underworld was occurring down there. I needed a stiff shot of something strong to recover.

Nothing much else to say, so here's a poster I made for fun, a few months ago, of an evil ginger troll in a bathtub full of money while the world burns. You are absolutely welcome.

Tripping My Face Off (Part One)

So my regular checking in with the blog thing is going well, huh?

Yes, sarcasm. Duh.

Since I last posted I've been on another trip. Now before you all go assuming I'm such rich, jet setting drifter, I'd like to point out that I am most certainly not. It just panned out that way. Two trips in two months, how decadent. It'll be a hell of a long time till the next one though, I'm thinking.

My latest trip was a road trip because I think by now, you all know how much I adore those. If it moves, takes me new places, is hot and sunny, and doesn't involve going anywhere NEAR a plane, I'm in.

How many states were we in this trip? TEN. One zero. In seventeen days. I'll let you go on thinking how impressive that is, then admit that actually some of them were just short pass throughs. Still ten. Yeah!

I took a ton of pictures I'm not going to bore you with, and a few I am. Sorry. But not that sorry. I mean you have a  back button right? And think how even more boring this post would be without pictures. Right?

Firstly it was mid June. Our first stop was Crater Lake National Park in Oregon. Most of it was still closed due to huge snow drifts everywhere, but we got to see the crater from the one part that was open, and tremble at its awe inspiring beauty. And the fact it was 40 degrees F. In June.

See? Snow. That should be illegal, I'm just saying. I was wearing boots and a winter coat for crying out loud. Still I enjoyed eating leftover pizza and staring at it before heading down the mountain to our hotel a half hour away. Where it was 90 degrees. Hello flip flops!

From there we headed to Nevada - Virginia City to be exact, so I could see some old mining town stuff and that hundred mile view they have. And eat some decent Mexican food. They weren't kidding about the view. I have no photo that can do it justice however. Sorry. I sort of built that up for no reason. Our trip was officially starting in Lake Havasu City, so all this stuff was just passing through en route.

Our drive south to Nevada, through California, was just stunning. I'd never been that part of California before and was amazed how pretty it was. Just vista after vista, lakes and mountains. This is Mono Lake:

From there we headed south as we were staying the night in Beatty, NV at the super awesome, quirky little Atomic Inn. We were the only guests so it was like having an entire motel to ourselves. Quiet, comfortable, cool, and the air conditioning was spot on, which, since it was 100 plus degrees, was mandatory. Thinking about it, that's probably why we were the only guests. Most normal people are nowhere NEAR Death Valley in the summer.

Remember I said quirky? It's because the Atomic Inn is all vaguely themed around Nevada's atomic past and the rooms and decor reflect that. Ours was full of sixties' Russian space related art and era furniture. Loved the place. Here's the exterior. Tell me this doesn't have my name all over it.

That little, green guy was totally friendly too.

Since we were on the edge of my favourite place on Earth, Death Valley, and we had most of a day left, we did a quick tour of some of our favourite spots there. I've been to DV so many times now, it's like going home. You know...if home was a pizza oven.

That happened.

You have to love Death Valley. Every time I go there it tries even harder to kill me. I forgive it though, it's so pretty. Here's the Mesquite Dunes.

In the evening, we hung around our other favourite spot, Rhyolite, NV and watched the sun set.

My desert ghosts. I've only ever seen them in daytime before.

Also, I always photograph this old truck. There's been a fire since I last was here, so it's even more messed up.

Anyway, the next day we were headed to our next stop which was Parker Dam in Arizona, near Lake Havasu City. However, we like to take detours, so we went via Amboy, California, where I've been before and enjoyed. So remote and set firmly in the past, on the remains of the old Route 66. Here are a couple of photos I took of the famous Roy's sign and the motel.

We reached Parker eventually, and had a few days there to recuperate from the hot drive down, and to swim in Lake Havasu. Because why not? It was wonderful. Since it was 120 degrees the lake was the only place to be. Of course I got a sunburn despite my sunscreen. And the air conditioning back at our hotel kept cutting out as the heat was so excessive. At one point we went and sat in the car just to cool down.

We did get to see wild burros though!

How yoo doin'?

After a couple days trying not to dehydrate in Havasu, we headed for a few days in Tucson. I've always wanted to go to Tucson, and it didn't disappoint me at all, despite the fact we didn't actually do much city stuff at all. I'd never seen a Saguaro in real life before. I was beyond excited, as I'm a bit odd like that.

Look at them all. Oh my God...

We hit both parts of the Saguaro National Park because there are literally not enough cacti for me. I bought a t-shirt because of course I did.

We also went to the Pima Air and Space Museum in Tucson, which was fabulous and I got to go touch an actual NASA Superguppy. Look! It's all shrinked up for protection from the hot, desert sun. There's nothing in the picture that shows scale, but it was HUGE.

I didn't even mind the ten minute hike in 115 degree heat to get to it either. I did sort of regret it when I ran out of iced tea and realized I still had a ten minute walk back.

We also took the tour out to the airplane boneyard at Monthan Davis Airforce Base which I loved. You can't get off the bus though, so I don't have many pics from there. It was fascinating however. I've been checking it out on Google Earth for years.

I think that's about enough for now before you all nod off. Part two later, when I can be assed.

Hope your summer's going as well!

This Escalated Quickly

Summer's well and truly here in Veggie land. Blue skies, warmth, golden shadows, snow topped mountains. It's all so peaceful.

At least it is peaceful Sunday through Wednesday. Serene. I get my morning coffee and drive down to one of my favourite look out points to drink it, overlooking the ocean and the mountains and the wild flowers, and all is right with the world.

Then Thursday rolls around and the first of the week's cruise ships roll into port, a kilometer from my house, making loud honks that make your stomach lurch, and producing an alarming stream of horses and carriages, pedicabs, coaches, and taxis, parading endlessly past the house en route to make some money off of those passengers.

And there are so many of them.

Three quarters appear to be very excitable Asian tourists, chattering, swarming, and carting giant cameras. They seem to enjoy it here, they travel en masse, and are particularly fond of standing right at crossings even though they're not crossing, making me stop for no reason, when all they're doing is looking at something across the street. Either that or I'm driving through and one decides to just jump in front of me without warning. Those guys are driving me to drink, I swear.

They also are extraordinarily fond of selfie sticks. You never see a white, black, Indian, or middle Eastern individual with a selfie stick. But almost all the Chinese, Japanese, and Korean ladies seem to carry one along with their lipstick. It's fascinating. Must be a cultural thing.

So from Thursday till Sunday it's touristville. Which is nice, seeing people in your town having fun and enjoying the scenery. Even when it's a little annoying at times.

Sadly, a lot of the tourists here are people like the woman I encountered this morning, who appeared to have some sort of problem driving over 25 kmph, turning me into a huge, sweary asshole inside my car, as I was trying to get somewhere on the narrow coast road, yelling to myself, "It's a 50 zone you fucks!" because clearly I'm some sort of unashamed speed demon, who probably hasn't had her coffee yet. But I get it. You're looking at the pretty view and it's lovely, good for you.

But good god woman, you're in a car, move your ass.

25 kmph, I ask you! May a crow shit on your head, ma'am.

Thank God it's Friday.

Disjointed Nonsense!

I just got back from visiting my mum for a couple of weeks. It was a whirlwind visit consisting of six flights, much turbulence, jet lag, and eating the approximate equivalent gross national product of a small nation, while consuming enough alcoholic beverages to sink a tanker if placed on top of it just right.

The trip itself though - the trip was laborious, to say the least. Those flights were long and by the third flight on the outbound journey - where it turned out I had not one but two (TWO!) loud, unhappy toddlers seated directly behind me and one of them was clearly beating the back of my seat with an oar or something - I would've happily watched Donald Trump have relations with a hippopotamus, if it meant avoiding getting on board another plane.

Actually, I'd watch that any day! Although I'd feel for the hippo.

It didn't help that when my second flight landed in lovely Halifax, Nova Scotia - I assume it is lovely, I wouldn't know - stuff looked like this:

Yeah, that is fog. We had a fuel thing going on though - blah blah, I don't want to know about ways you're possibly trying to kill me, WestJet - so we got to land, whereas a lot of flights were less lucky. I say "lucky" but I'm not sure that's the word. "Bumpy" might be better. "Skiddy" would certainly be accurate. Did I hurl though? I did not. My innards remained in place. You'd be so proud.

This photo, incidentally, is the exact moment of touchdown, because rest assured, even when landing in severe wind and fog, and thinking death is imminent, I will still do the world a solid by getting out my phone and taking a photo. You're welcome.

In the airport, I had a five hour wait, which was just as awesome as it sounds. A one hour flight, a five hour flight, followed by a five hour wait, followed by a six hour flight? Yes please. Just sign me up for that ALL OF THE MONOTONY. I filled the five hours by stuffing sandwiches down my food hole and rocking in a rocking chair while staring at the fog in a trance. See my fantastic view below:

YUP.

All airports should have rocking chairs. Seriously. This video might work if you have flash player, but whatever. PRETEND.

Anyway, I finally got to Scotland and it was sunny, which both delighted and terrified me, because usually, the second I arrive, the heavens open and the rain apocalypse comes, but seeing sunshine was unexpected and ominous. What could it mean? End of times? I had mysteriously landed on some parallel universe version of Scotland? I watch "Star Trek" I know what goes on. I mean who knows where we went in all that fog?

I celebrated the fact I was alive and had been awake for over 24 hours, by having a soothing beverage at my sister's house while grinning crazily and talking to the cat.

Don't panic though. That might be the only non alcoholic drink to pass my lips in twelve days.

Some other day when I wasn't consuming a vat of delicious food or punishing my liver, we took some dogs out for a walk in the woods, which was nice and gave me some exercise. The weather was so great, I still don't quite believe it.

That lab never stopped moving. I mean seriously, he was like a tiny, canine hurricane. Also, there's no delicate way to put this, but I never saw a dog produce such immense piles of excrement as this dog. It was like....seasoned mountaineers would get lost on those things. No, there is no picture. Again, you're welcome.

Did I mention there was alcohol? Rhubarb vodka cocktails in the garden, yes please!

I spent a fair bit of time at my sisters where we cooked and ate and drank (see above and below). I think this next photo accurately shows the ratio of those activities...

There are VEGETABLES there, don't give me your crap!

I also got to hang out with my friends too which was great. We had dinner (of course!) and one day we headed to the beach and had more delicious food then a hearty walk on the beach, even though a gale was blowing. We're not afraid of no stinking weather, however! No Sir. 

I did cry when I combed my hair, however.

A colorful log. Why not? Then it got greyer.

That weather wants to mess with me.

After the beach, we had ice cream sodas and I had a hot date with this guy. He's all about pillaging. Yes those ARE palm trees! In Scotland. I know, right!

At some point, on some other day, cocktails were had in the city, with my sister. Things are a tad hazy but I do remember how good they were and how expensive, and also full of fruity, hardcore goodness. See? Vitamins people! One of these is rhubarb and custard flavor. All I can say is YES. They are both pink because I am a lady. My sister's drink on the right had a chili on it, which is clearly blasphemous in a beverage, but she swears it was fabulous.

It's possible we had more than one drink. It's only polite.

Fizzy!

OK, we had several, sue me.

After all that, we had food, I lost the will to live, and at some point there was a train ride, after which I was home and took off my pants in case I bent over and accidentally shot someone in the face with a button blasting off from the strain.

Eventually my liver quit and I decided to fly home. Another three flights that made me want to stick pins in my own eyes. This time I had no toddlers kicking my seat and screeching, so that was an instant score and the entire flight was in daylight, although I kept annoyingly travelling back in time until I had no concept of anything whatsoever. Which is about normal for me.

I did get to fly over the Rockies when it wasn't cloudy for once though!

So now I'm home. And summer's here. And I'm at work although clearly I'm not because I'm typing this dribble. 

And because you can't have everything.

Somebody's Watching You

Just for you BILL

Last night I was terrorized by a raccoon.

Yeah it sounds funny NOW.

There are raccoons in the neighbourhood, I knew this already. Now and then I encounter one in the driveway, steely eyed, looking at me like it's trying to calculate how easy it would be to knock me down and eat my face off. On those occasions, we regard each other warily then I back up and leave, and it does whatever raccoons do in these situations. Sometimes, in the evening, they even scale the trees in the yard and wander onto the roof, where they stomp around like tiny Nazis, giving me the fear at 2 a.m. because I think someone's in the attic.

Last night, however, necessitated an evening drive to the supermarket as a tragedy had occurred and I'd found myself devoid of both Coke Zero and wine, and well...if that's not a Defcon 1 situation I'd like to know what is.

It was only 8 p.m. or so and just gotten dark. When I rounded the corner into the drive, I saw some smallish critter with a tail like a particularly hirsute toilet brush, dart behind the end of the house at the other end of the drive. I commenced to my car and got in. While sitting there, fiddling with the club lock (because my car's the approximate age of Christopher Columbus) I saw the little furry piece of evil lurking at the bottom of the drive again, clearly thinking I'd gone and the coast was clear. It then proceeded to march up the slope towards the car with the clear intention of murdering me and nibbling on my spleen. Nope.

It then darted right under the car. Great. I was just about to leave. I didn't want to start up and drive over it, I can only take so much trauma in one day and the running out of wine thing had taken its toll already.

I jiggled around a bit hoping the movement would alert it to my presence and it would move. I saw nothing even though I was scoping out all my mirrors like a madman. So I tooted my horn which...I don't know if anyone else has a '99 Cavalier but man, it's about as manly as Barry Manilow in a tutu arriving at a Liberace concert while riding a unicorn. It sounds like a 4 year old girl whining. Anyway, no luck.

I started the engine figuring the sound would scare it out and I could commence my great wine and coke zero quest. I figured wrong, though. I reversed just a few inches hoping that would do the trick. No sign of the raccoon.

It was at that moment I thought two things. 1) fuck my life, and 2) I had to get out and look under the car to see if it was actually there, and risk it leaping out from the depths of hell and attaching itself to my face while screaming like a banshee.

I could've also decided to maybe not go to the store after all but, seriously??? I mean NO wine, not even the shitty stuff you cook with.

So I carefully tested the waters, so to speak, by allowing my left leg to dangle, precariously, over the edge of the car, listening furtively for any sign of a rabid screech that would suggest some zombie-esque nibbling was about to begin. Nothing. I got out of the car.

"Get your ass out of there!" I said in a really bold, confident, and completely "I have the situation under control!" type of way (maybe). Nothing happened.

I was pretty sure by now it wasn't even under the damn car, it had escaped around the front of the house or next door or something. But I didn't want to risk running over it and skeezing myself out, not to mention the guilt factor of killing a little creature that looked comically like Judd Hirsch.

I slowly bent down and tried to get a look near the wheels at the front. I saw nothing! Phew. I breathed a sigh of relief and turned around to get back in, and as I did THERE IS A FUCKING RACCOON RIGHT BEHIND ME, its evil little eyes glinting at me like, "You want to run your little, pussy, ancient car over me? huh?"

This happened in this order.

I shrieked like a little girl.

The racooon made a sound like if you'd accidentally trod on a six foot tall budgerigar.

It took off like a bat out of hell in one direction, and I ran the opposite way.

I dropped my car keys in some tall plants and tripped over my own feet.

Hell yes, I found those suckers and still went to the store. If a person ever needed wine, it was RIGHT THEN.

The moral of this story is, never run out of wine.

* I don't mind raccoons really. Mostly.

The world is new, the world is now...

Well here we are. Another year, another possibility, another respondent burst of enthusiasm about new beginnings we probably won't stick to.

I think most people seem to be in agreement that 2016 was a year best left behind in a haze of gratitude (that it's finally over). It's stupid really - years are man made things and events, good or bad, do not adhere to such ridiculous human-imposed time restrictions, but still, we are mortal beings and so we respect our self regulated time containers and agree. 2016 was a pretty terrible year for the world.

2017 though, will be awesome. Full of positivity and well...stuff that blatantly defies 2016's legacy right in its smug, fat face.

So here's to you, friends. Happy New year, whatever it means to you. A psychological new birth of spirit, to us all.