365: Red; March 26, Velvet and Ice

Last year's leaves, this day's snow. 

365: Red; March 25, Red, White and Blue: a metaphore

Some years ago, my youngest met a very nice young man at a wedding. In Texas. Not many months later, she saw this young man again, and then again at a second wedding a year later, and then again on a stopover in his city during one of his rare visits there. Said young man is a pilot in the US Air force and was, at the time, stationed at the base in Del Rio, which is five miles north of the Mexican border, in Texas.

I found out said young man not only existed but was starting to look like a permanent fixture by round about means: my daughter told me she'd got her first credit card. I gave her the "pay it off in full every month," speech, at which point she said yes, she had $600 on the card but would pay it off in full. Several questions followed: "HOW did you get $600 on there already? "I bought a flight and rented a car."
"What? A flight to where?"
"San Antonio, and then I'm driving to Del Rio."
"WHY are you going there?"
"To see my boyfriend."
"WHAT boyfriend??"
"David. He's a pilot in training. He's stationed in Del Rio."
....

Anyway. I've recovered. David is lovely. They're engaged and wedding is in planning for next year.

The thing above: David sent this from Afghanistan, where he has been for six months, doing his second tour as a reconnaissance pilot. At the top, an officially-folded US flag and at bottom, a certificate attesting to the flag having been on board and flown in my and my spouse's honour on February 10 2014, and signed by David and three others.

It's the most extraordinary gift I am sure I will ever receive.

I am bemused to note the red part of this flag is hidden inside a locked case. I know it is contrary to think this way but it represents the spilled American, Canadian, Afghan, and British blood and how much of that reality I think we are not really aware of. It's ironic the red isn't showing, as it is a significant part of the whole.

This thing was made in and travelled from Afghanistan to New York and then to my city. The glass did not survive and the surface of the matting is scarred, all of which contributes to the overall irony.

365: Red; March 24, Leftovers

These are the leftovers, or perhaps more accurately, the survivors of the chaos and hell fires (ok, not hell; just a really hot oven filled with flames and smoke).

Everything's better with red wine.

365: Red; March 23, Not burning it down

Sometimes the best laid plans just totally go to hell. Such was the night of the Beef Wellington.

Every possible thing happened to slow down getting dinner on the table, starting with a dog suddenly developing a very weird pain, followed by fog filling the kitchen thanks to lovely fatty beef with a lovely buttery crust starting to smoke, followed by a delicious dinner, followed by said dog becoming really uncomfortable just as the real, shredded coconut topping for the real, from-the-nut, coconut pie caught fire in the oven while everyone poured over the dog.

This is the movement one makes whilst waiving the new, not-yet-burned oven mitts under the fire alarm in an effort to have it quit screaming. What you don't see is three other people extricating a flaming pile of burned coconut from the oven.

365: Red; March 22, Early Celebration

We did a very Canadian thing today... headed off to Canadian Tire for stuff we needed - or at least told ourselves we did - and did that other thing one does there; we wandered up and down the aisles of on-sale items.

March. Three and a half months early, Canadian Tire is getting it's Canada Day party on.

Stock up now, folks... these will be $1.00 each on July 2.

365: Red; March 20, Death, Vindication, Rebirth

These are the shoes worn by the presenter at a talk given by someone I consider a close and loved friend. Two years ago, never in a million years did I imagine I'd ever be in the same country, let alone the same room, getting a hug from this guy. Life is bizarre and unpredictable.

I met my friend at a talk by another person, Christine Shelska, who was speaking about the Discovery Institute in the US. This is the group that has repackaged the ridiculous idea of creationism and calls it "intelligent design" and is foisting it on the minds of young children and changing the textbooks to boot. Ok. I'm done editorialising. My friend was at this talk. I could not believe he was there, that I could get anywhere near him, let alone shake his hand, and I was beyond stunned when, after this talk everyone was heading out for beers and I was invited along.

You will have heard the patriarch of the Westboro Baptist Church - otherwise known as the most hated family in America, or the God Hates Fags people. If you don't know about this family, click that link and read Louis Theroux's article. Louis has done two documentarys on this family and knows them very well.

My friend is a child of this madman. My friend suffered, as all his siblings have, harsh beatings and much abuse at the hands of their father, but worse, grew up in a highly skewed, weird, mind-bendy religious family. My friend literally ran from the house he grew up in at the stroke of midnight, the day he turned 18. He has struggled and been bitterly sad, and he has distrusted, self-medicated and struggled to be normal in a world that he was taught to loath and be terrified of.

In 2001, everything changed. The short story is this lovely, peaceful, soulful, sweet, honest and loving man - who is absolutely everything his father was not - has become one of the most influential and best known voices in the secular, humanist and atheist communities but also leads the charge against bigotry  and hate towards the LGBT community. I'll let you read up.

This is Nate's statement following the death of the man who was his father:
http://www.recoveringfromreligion.org/pages/PhelpsPR

I'm very happy to know him.

365: Red; March 18, International Supper

After having spent a week with my sister and her Mexican spouse in Vegas, I had a massive craving for the food we'd eaten a lot of. Mostly I was craving cilantro. That stuff is good!

On this table, pico de gallo, which is tomatoes, garlic, avocado, lots of cilantro, lime juice and salt; diez millios, which I've certainly misspelled, which is chuck steak sliced very thinly then marinated in orange juice, some Mexican spices and lime and then grilled on the BBQ; papaya, roasted butter nut and acorn squash, salad, which was full of Indian spices and coconut; beer from Montreal and Scotland, and wine from Australia. So the UK napkins were fitting.

This is my crew, which includes one I date, three I made and an orphan we love.

365: Red; March 17, BUSY.

Being in my middle years - ok, middle aged - keeping my girlish figure has become a lot more of a challenge.

I saw a film recently, which I think might have been partially funded by a company that manufactures blenders and juicers. The subject of the film, also a person in middle age, was 60 pounds over ideal weight and was obviously not healthy, so switched to a diet of juice - densely rich and very nutritious juice, however.

I figure this is a good practice, so I've shifted to juice with ground nuts and yoghurt for breakfast and sometimes dinner. It's fine for the most part but on busy days, it doesn't always fill the entire gap... enter the solution; vegetable juice - good - and chips... not so much. But after two weeks of mostly juice, they were DELICIOUS. Oh. And I haven't lost a pound. Probably the damn chips.

365: Red; March 16, Brief Thaw

I know some people are right fussy about the state of their cars and seeing this would horrify them. But see, I have this dog and she likes the park, a LOT.

We had a brief few days of thaw that turned the mounds of snow we had into six inches of slush with rivers running down the hills and pooling in great puddles in the low spots.

I suppose I could have walked the kilometre to the park to save the clean up. But I didn't.

Whatever. It's leather. It'll wash. Dog had a blast.

365: Red; March 15, Lunch Break

A couple times a year, I teach a day-long photography class. I enjoy it a lot and I'm always happy to see the work my students, who are usually new to digital cameras, produce by end of day.

I lunch alone though. My voice is shot by the end of the day, so I take the 45 minutes to my self. Hot water and lemon. Just like some old lady.

365: Red; March 14; Big, Smelly Bay

On this happy day, my work took me out of the city to an acreage. It is only 22 minutes from my door essentially down town.

I spent two hours inside the residence and then came out to shoot the exteriors and noticed horses way, way off down the field.

They saw me but weren't having anything to do with me for about 15 minutes, until I turned my back on them - on purpose; I read somewhere horses will turn their backs on other strange horses as a non-confrontational invitation to come have a sniff.

This tall fellow is some sort of draft horse - maybe Belgian, I don't know. probably 17 and a half at the withers though.  We made friends really fast and I really wanted to jump on. He was a bit skittish probably owing to the wind and my strange smell and my camera, which I let him sniff.

He and the other five have been left out in the pasture for ages, judging by their hooves - which haven't seen a hoof knife for many months, and his mane, which is matted to the point of needing cutting. But he smelled delicious. Why do horses smell so very, very nice.

365: Red; March 13, Wet, panting and happy

Thanks to my insane schedule, my poor doggie hasn't been outside except to pee for three days.

The weather has finally become warm and that means our local park, which was two feet deep in snow, is melting at a rapid pace. Not to be daunted, I popped on the gum boots I keep in my trunk and off we went.

She's soaked but not muddy because she doesn't mind the slush but avoids the mud if possible. Helps to aim the ball for the clean wet, too.

365: Red; March 12; Back at it with a vengence

I have not been back at home for more than eight hours and I'm already booked for the next three days! It's nice to be missed, particularly when those missing me also pay me.

365: Red; March 11; Leaving on a Jet Plane

I am a fantastic suitcase packer. I can't remember the last time I left something important at home. I think that comes from knowing it doesn't matter if I leave something behind; everything is get-able thanks to plastic money.

I bought that watch at the Container Park, an innovative and really cool little shopping complex up in North Vegas - AKA Old Vegas - just off Freemont Street. I like it a lot. It has the same markings on the face as one finds on the selection dial on a camera.

The strap, being a "slap strap" is made of rubber, so comfortable to wear, until water gets in under, so I took this off to wash my hands, just prior to leaving for the airport....

Speed forward two 1/2 hours, I found myself absently wondering if we would be landing shortly and realised at 37,000 feet where this little bauble still was.

365: Red; March 10; Awake Late

So late at night. I'm not sure why I'm still awake, although part of it is due to a really good TV series I have been watching on my trusty tablet. What did people do, before technology, when they couldn't sleep?

It's hot and quiet and I could get up but I'm just tired enough to not want to bother. That, and I'm leaving this place within 20 hours, which means leaving my little sister, my niece and the warm weather here. It's only two hours by air (not including the 3 hours getting to the airport and waiting around) but it's a world away.

365: Red; March 8, Things you can do in back alleys

I went to the arts district today. It was a ghost town. I saw three people in a 12 block radius, not counting the two wedding parties; same chapel, 15 minutes apart. I'm not sure where they keep the arts in this district, unless one counts graffiti, of which there is lots, and it's gorgeous, or bail bond shops, of which there are also lots or wedding chapels, which number approximately equal to the bail bond shops and are located within a block of those. Very convenient, as the bail bond shop is where one goes to have one's marriage annulled.

This particular wedding chapel is a drive through. Yes, you did read that and yes, that's what it means; you drive a bit down an alley way, enter the drive through, pick your wedding from the menu on the driver's side- please speak loudly and clearly into the receiver - and in fewer than 15 minutes, your newly hitched self can be on the way down the one way street towards the bail bond or south down to the strip, where you can drown your newly-wed sorrows.

What you won't find in the arts district - at least not easily - is art.

Just a note...

I know these are out of order. They're not really, because I started posting on the day in question, but finished posting today... this is the reality of the digiverse....

365: Red; March 2: Conventional

Conventioneering, that's what I'm doing this week, with 5000 other photographers from everywhere in the US, Canada, Spain and Mexico, and a few other places, probably, but I didn't get close enough to any of those accents to find out.

Pretty cool fun. Moments of being really intimidated by the quality of some people's work, and moments of euphoria realising I'm doing ok.

I managed not to spend a ton of money too, which is good. At least not on camera gear anyway.

365: Red; March 7, Dirty Food

It's probably because I'm out of my element, but business names down here - and particularly business names in Chinatown, are odd. And borderline dirty, which probably wasn't intentional but probably also shouldn't be a surprise, given this is Vegas. I probably have a dirtier mind than is appropriate for an old person.

365: Red; March 6; Metal Teeth

Vegas is a weird, weird place. Tourists probably don't see it and probably don't ever think about how this city works. "Laws" are fluid here. There is a huge, huge population of undocumented workers here, and because Vegas depends on those workers, as in could not function without them, Nevada is not on the forefront of the move to rid this country of those workers - although the next state over, Arizona, is hell-bent on getting rid of everyone it deems undesirable.

One of the weird legal convolutions is the issue of auto insurance. In my country, you will present registration and proof on insurance to get your driver's licence and you will produce said proof of insurance annually in order to register your vehicle. I am sure there are unregistered, uninsured vehicles on the roads in my country but due to the little, obvious sticker on one's license plate, unregistered drivers don't stay long on the roads.

Here, however, partially owing to that undocumented but critical population, it's a whole other ball game. But don't drive in the wrong direction into the parkade (parking garage, for people not from my province)... don't do that 'cause y'all gonna have your tires pierced. Uninsured? Unlicensed Unregistered? Driving a car on the "repossess list"? Fine. Wrong way into a parkade? No way in hell.

365: Red; March 5, Carne de Mariana's

A ways down the road from my sister's is an authentic Mexican market. It's ubiquitous here but where I'm from, as far as I know (but I have never really checked) we don't have anything like this, and even if we did, it probably wouldn't come with the 99 percent hispanic shopper population.

Add to that, the music is very un-Safeway-esque; proper Spanish music, on the upbeat; the farthest thing from musak imaginable. And there's such a lot of cool stuff including cactus, which is delicous (toss it on the bbq, grill it up, a little salt and lime and delish) and this seasoned meat (toss on the grill, add a bit of lime and roll up in a soft taco shell with some avocado, seasoned mayo, cilantro and queso fresco, devour).

Fun diversion and way, way off the strip. Anything off the strip is good.

365: Red; March 4, Americana

We have to-the-door delivery in our community but literally to the door, not to the mail box. These boxes are unheard of in our city; they're a rural thing in my cultural vernacular. Really American, like something out of a movie.

365: Red; March 3, Loner

I raised my kids in a really safe city but I was totally phobic about them being out of my sight. They weren't out in the neighbourhood without me or some adult and they still joke about how I wouldn't let them cross the road alone until they were 13 - which is an exaggeration but not by much.

I'm visiting my sister for a couple weeks. She lives in what I would call not the safest city in the US. It's full of tourists and because of the weather - mostly always warm, people are always out and up at all hours.
I took my little niece for a walk around the neighbourhood and crossed paths with this lone kid. I'm sure he's all of three houses away from his own place but it stll weirds me out to see a kid alone.

365: Red; March 1: Travel Companion

Heading to Vegas, I had an aisle seat by this guy. I know two things about this guy: he's going to be quiet and not bug me, and, if any conversation happens, he'll have a vocabulary, because he reads in public and still reads hard copy books.

I was bumped out of my seat, however, as there was a family with three babies needing to sit closer together.

I did speak to him at the baggage carousel. Dan Brown, Inferno. He had the same analysis as I have of this book: light, a bit boring and not as intense as earlier novels by the author.