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Sunday, 2 February 2014

365: Red; January 31, Music Maker



We have a wonderful friend, who has been a musician all her life, and is the child of musicians. She's never known another life except for a stint at uni and a nearly complete degree.

In this country, which borders another HUGE country, with an over-powering culture, music is a tough business. We don't necessarily honour our musicians until they make it somewhere else - usually that much larger country. It can be a long, arduous trajectory to make money at all, and to carve out a place in the industry here.

Our friend has a Juno under her belt and several amazing albums. We've watched in amazement as she tours all over the world for months at a time.

I travelled with her twice, and only for three days and five days at a time, and I was exhausted. I don't know how she does it, but she does and she does it very well.

Check her  out here: www.caraluft.com and check out her latest CD, Darlingford, on iTunes


Thursday, 30 January 2014

365: Red; January 30,. Take Out

Except for the snow - or maybe even with, considering the weather there at present - this scene reminds me of New York City.

This little boite is maybe 15 feet from a really busy road, at a really noisy corner, across the street from a loud sports bar.

Backs turned to the world, just waiting on some grub.

365: Red; January 29, Winter Reprise


So the weather went pear-shaped today. It's been snowing in this city since October, and we had the most snow we've had in December in 112 years, and there's so much snow and ice on the side streets that some people are housebound still, despite the road clearing having been going on 24/7 for three months, but did anyone remember what crap roads are like? No.

Wednesday, 29 January 2014

365: Red; January 28, Little Red Corvette


We read in bed at night - full geek - on our respective gadgetty tablets. Usually, our reading leans to tech and science or gossip of the high-brow/Vanity Fair persuasion.

But sometimes, it just goes off the rails, particularly where it concerns cars and racing and possible pile-ups...

Monday, 27 January 2014

365: Red; January 27, Window Frost

We've had gorgeous weather for about two weeks - temperatures above the seasonal average by 15 to 20 degrees. It's been nice.

However, it is January, so one cannot expect such summer to last. When it does go, the humidity in the air leaves some lovely patterns on glass. This shot is through my driver's side window towards my neighbour's new car.

My neighbour, who has lived in her home for I think 40 some years, finally ditched her 20 year-old car to buy this snazzy red thing. She's 80 years old.

Saturday, 25 January 2014

365: Red; January 25; Extra...


This is a bonus just 'cause this made me laugh.



365: Red; January 25; Boss

My kid just returned from a week working in New York City. She's in film and has a friend who is a playwright and film maker there and who brings her in occasionally to volunteer on small projects when she can take a break from the film work she does here.

She lived in NYC for six months and often - very often - mentioned these pecan buns she got from Miss Dahlia's Café in Brooklyn. They sounded delicious from her descriptions of them being addictive.

Last May, we travelled with her to NYC for the graduation of our very dear friend, Cory Dixon, from the New York Academy of Art, and we stayed within walking distance of Miss Dahlia's, so walked the five long blocks there the first morning we were in the city. My goal, as it always is in the morning, was COFFEE..... and, because there they were, one of these famous buns. They are indescribably delicious. Doubtless made with half a cup of butter each, sticky with brown sugar and cinnamon. They are utterly divine.

So I begged my kid to bring me back some of these and two of them made it back. I would have squirrelled myself away with them in my office over two days but I shared with my spouse.

Miss Dahlia's is located at 449 Nostrand Ave in Brooklyn. The subway is Nostrand Ave on the A or C lines. The Buns come from Balthazar Bakery in Spring Street, Manhattan. If ever you're in NYC, just make your way to either Balthazar or Miss Dahlia's.

365: Red; January 24, Junk


The recent announcement by Canada Post that services were going to be "gutted," I think was the term, has had a lot of ink lately. People who will see the end of to-the-door delivery are outraged.

There has been a massive shift in how people send and receive information. Most companies are able - and willing, as it is a huge cost savings - to provide monthly bills by email; most of what we write back and forth to people is also via email, or Facebook, or some other digital form; Fax still exists too. So the necessity for snail mail, as it has come to be called, has decreased exponentially and what is still being delivered is decidedly heavy on the junk side.

It seems the holdouts are companies that have not yet got it that direct mail has about a one percent response rate. Otherwise, that advertising usually winds up in the bin, or, as my friend noted, on the family fire pit.

In my case today, nine bits of direct mail advertising and one bill were delivered to my door; a bill I pay by direct withdrawal anyway, and for which the company provides an annual statement, making that particular paper bill redundant.

Where this concerns Canada Post, however, is this: direct mail is a revenue source. One cannot refuse delivery because the advertisers have paid for this stuff to be delivered, so CP must do it. It strikes me mail delivery is in its death throes if this is what it is reduced to, kinda like when actors end their careers at dinner theatres; fascinating like a car wreck.

As for these advertisers, I would rather, if I have to get it at all, have this stuff come to my in-box. Less paper to chuck, and a correspondingly lower level of guilt, not for ignoring the ads but for the waste of trees... with all the brouhaha about climate change, you'd think people would realise less to-the-door junk mail would have an effect on vehicle emissions (from delivery), pollution, destruction of forests, and lessening of processing chemicals in the water.

Thursday, 23 January 2014

365: Red; January 23, Morning

Coffee.

I have a French press, a coffee maker that also grinds the coffee, and this old stove-top percolator, which I paid maybe $5 for, second hand.

It makes brilliant coffee. Reminds me of camping.


365: Red; January 22, Fading into the past

I was married, years and years ago, to probably the worst person for me to be married to. I don't know this person any more, so my perception is still, shall we say, not positive. It's been 20 years since and I've managed to get rid of almost everything that was part of that marriage, save the kids (I adore them) and the house (very grateful for it, all things considered).

Near the end of what was a volatile relationship, my soon-to-be ex had one of their fits. Not often, but often enough to be scary, there were fists, and pushing and shoving, and one time, a kick into the front door, which caused a huge crack and dent in said front door.

That break has been repaired, by a pro, so it isn't noticeable to anyone who doesn't know it's there. But I know it's there. I should probably replace the door. One should forgive, I suppose, and many times, one should maybe also forget. But not always.