My weekend has been wonderfully relaxing. I spent yesterday reading and writing and tidying up in between. Later in the day, I took myself out for supper at some lowbrow joint that makes the most excellent chicken burgers I have ever eaten. They put nutmeg in their gravy, but the burgers are so good that I forgive them for this transgression against animal fat. I managed to get a booth even though there was only one of me, and sitting in the booth directly behind me were two men. They looked to be about my age. Both of them had long mullets growing past their shoulders with wavy perms and acid wash jeans. It was so shades of 1985.
But don’t judge them harshly. As I listened to their conversation, they revealed themselves to be the softest, sweetest guys I’ve overheard. One couldn’t stop talking about his girlfriend and could relate any topic to her. He loved her, respected her, and wanted to help her be successful. The other one talked mostly about his art and his frustration with some new technique he was learning. He used his art to express his feelings, and it was aggravating him that while he was learning something new he couldn’t fully express himself.
It’s not that I expected these guys to speak in low grunts or anything. It was the level of sensitivity which I so rarely hear in public that surprised me. People talk about the weather or their jobs or their families, and there is often a tone of callousness or cynicism or complaining when they do so. These two people were gentle and sensitive and creative. It restored a bit of my faith that there are more good people out there than I sometimes think there are.
While I was listening to them, I was reading bitch. I’m not sure why, but that just seems funny to me.
Over Thanksgiving (it was on October 11th in Canada), I was up in Cosmopolis visiting friends and family, and while I was there, I took a few photographs. I’ll show you the ones I really like, but if you want to see more, you’ll have to hop on over to Flickr.
First up is my friend, Starcat. Photographs don’t usually do him justice, and in fact, when I called him up to get his permission to post his picture, he said that he had seen only one other that was any good. I took this one while we were out at a pub over pints.
This next one was taken a few short hours later with slow film in the same pub just before they very politely insinuated that we should leave. They really are very polite, even when it is 3:00 am and you’re the only people left in the place.
Kit Kat, or Ginger, is my mother-in-law’s cat, and she loathes the camera. She treats it as though it is some kind of gun, even when I am carrying it at my side with no intention to use it. I managed to get this picture within a three-second period between my waking her up from a nap and her bolting to the safety of a nearby bush.
And last but not least, a garden hose. It is also my mother-in-law’s, but unlike Kit Kat, it has grown used to my focused attentions and mostly ignores me.
Find out why fall leaves change colour.
Approximately 1% of the population is asexual.