Star Trek

This month, Star Trek will be officially 50 years old. Earlier this year Canada Post put out a special commemorative set of stamps featuring five of the stars of the original series: Captain Kirk, Spock, McCoy, Scotty, and Klingon Commander Kor. Three of these men are Canadian born - William Shatner (Kirk), James Doohan (Scotty), and John Colicos (Kor). The other two are Leonard Nimoy (Spock) and DeForest Kelley (McCoy). Why there are only five stamps and not, say, seven to include Sulu and Uhura is a mystery.  And a huge oversight, in my (and many others) opinion.

Scotty, "Bones" McCoy and Spock are shown in their respective positions: in the engine room, in sickbay, and on the bridge while 

Kirk and Kor are shown with their respective spacecraft, The USS Enterprise and the Klingon battle cruiser

each of which also got their own stamp in this domestic coil (though I used mine all up, so am showing the souvenir sheet here)

At the very least, every morning, afternoon, evening or late night, you should be able to find an episode of one of the Star Trek shows.

Which does not disappoint this trekkie.

And, in case you are not a trekkie and are wondering, William Shatner (age 85) is the only one of these five still alive. Although, the unrepresented Starfleet Command officers Nichelle Nichols, who played Lieutenant Uhura and George Takei, who was Sulu, are both also still very much alive.

boldly go to Sunday Stamps to find more commemorative stamps 

stylish dressing

Last week, for my birthday, a friend took me to see the Dressing for Downton Costume Exhibit at Spadina House in Toronto. Here is a postcard (because this is a nicer view than one at this time of year with dirty snow everywhere) of the 1866 house next door to the more famous Casa Loma. The house sits in what was at the time the wealthiest area of the city and was owned by James Austin who founded the TD Bank and Consumers Gas.

The exhibit and tour nicely ties in what life was like for the Granthams of Downton in Yorkshire and the Austins of Spadina in provincial Toronto during the 1920s and 30s. Things may not have been as grand or busy at Spadina House, but it was a little more progressive (telephone and electricity and kitchen gadgets, for example) 

On display were about 20 costumes worn by the Grantham sisters, Lord and Lady Grantham, the Dowager Countess, Matthew and Isobel Crawley as well as Mrs Patmore, Daisy, Mrs Hughes and O'Brian

My photos aren't the best, but there is a video link at the end that gives you a better idea of the dresses on display.

Mrs Hughes and her keys!

Lady Mary's dress worn on that fateful night when she took Kemal Pamuk as her lover

A "plain" dress worn by Lady Edith on the left and a dress worn by Lady Cora on the right

and Lady Sybil below

I cannot impress on you how tiny these dresses are! they don't look nearly as small in the pictures, but some of them (Lady Mary) had to be put on children's mannequins as they wouldn't fit on the adult ones.

there is also a Downton-inspired Afternoon Tea but ... it's sold out!

you only have until April 13, 2014 to see this exciting exhibit... (thank you, Beverly!)

where the key no longer works

There is a wonderful episode of Yes, Prime Minister (I know, they were all wonderful) where Sir Humphrey, the Cabinet Secretary, has some of his responsibilities taken away from him and reassigned. His key is also taken away from him and the locks changed so that he can't just wander into the PM's office from the cabinet office whenever he likes. I was thinking of this as the locks were changed at Toronto City Hall keeping the Mayor-in-name-only out of the Deputy Mayor's (new) office. Humphrey was more of a schemer than a bully, so it is unlikely that Ford will resort to the same antics. But there will be antics. We know this.

you can watch the episode here or you can read about it here

In the meantime, here are postcards showing City Hall as it looked in 1965 when it was built.

The council chambers located in the flying saucer bit in the centre of the two towers.

Measuring 155' in diameter and 40' to the peak of its domed ceiling, the clear-span concrete shell hovers over the circular central assembly space and semi-circular public gallery. A continuous band of glass between the upper and lower shells provides indirect daylight.

and in 1978, with Nathan Phillips Square looking slightly less bare

Nathan Phillips ("a mayor of the people") was apparently very popular  

(I don't remember as he was in office from 1955-1962) 

and the driving force behind the building of this 'avant-garde' new building 
(the excitement of the opening, I do remember)

run of your life

Every year it takes me by surprise. Certain spring Saturday afternoons come along and suddenly an interest in horse racing takes hold and I want to watch those few minutes of a fast paced adrenaline rush.

I am in no way a horsey person. I don't dislike them. They are wonderful creatures, but I don't get all soft and dewy over a horse as I would over, say, a cat, or a duck, even. But, yesterday when I heard on the car radio the stunning news that I'll Have Another would not be racing in the Belmont Stakes and thus would not be a Triple Crown contender - possibly the first winner since Secretariat in 1973, an event I remember well for some reason considering I was only 15 - I had to pull over and catch my breath. I hope he has a good, long life out on the stud farm, but I was deeply saddened to hear that his injury would prevent him form running. Then again, I was also relieved that his owners made that decision not to risk his life.

When Barbaro broke his leg in 2006 at the Preakness, I followed his recovery process avidly, amazed that such a catastrophic injury would be treated and the lengths they went to help him. Sadly, it was all too much for Barbaro and he died of complications when his other feet developed laminitis due to his not being able to put his full weight on his unbroken legs. Still, for seven months there was hope.

I felt a sharp pain of regret in 2004 when Birdstone outran Smarty Jones and foiled another attempt at a Triple Crown. It was a surreal moment when a tearful owner of the winning horse apologized and said "I'm sorry, so sorry that Smarty Jones couldn't win".

Canada has it's own Triple Crown with the Queen's Plate, The Prince of Wales Stakes and the Breeder's Stakes. The last time a horse won the Triple Crown was in 2003. I had to look up his name (it was Wando). Okay, I admit I am one of those people who jump on the bandwagon at the last minute and get caught up in the rush.

What I know about horse racing, I learned from reading Dick Francis. I have been to a couple of races, though they were harness racing that was held at a racetrack a few blocks from where I lived. I have never been to see the Queen's Plate, which is being held next Saturday. Horse racing has been in a steady decline over the years and now the Ontario government is considering putting a stop to a profitable and beneficial revenue sharing program where slots machines and gaming facilities were put into racetracks to complement the gambling. Lots and lots of money from these OLG (Ontario Lottery and Gaming) machines has benefitted the government as well as the racetracks who received a portion of revenue. It sounds like a perfect mix. Now, the talk is of taking these slots out of the racetracks and building a new casino in a more densely populated urban area. Like the waterfront of Toronto. Seriously. Ruining a good waterfront location by building a massive windowless structure so people can sit inside with blinking lights. At least at Woodbine, there is the option of going outside and seeing some horses going through their paces. Or winning a race. A live win, not a fabricated one from a machine.

Still, I will watch the Belmont this afternoon and toast to I'll Have Another's health.

sigh

It has turned cold but is still dreary and sunless.
Watching Ellen. Hoping for some cheer and good laughs.
Pleased that Amy Poehler was on, because she is really funny.


Ellen:  "How old are your kids now?"

AmyP:  "1 and 3..."

Ellen:  "and do they know about Christmas?"

AmyP:  "they are just starting to get to know Christmas"
...
AmyP:  "I was starting to tell the kids the story of Christmas, y'know about Santa and how he lives at the North Pole..."


I may have to rethink my opinion of her.

a new beginning...again

sad news about the passing of Elisabeth Sladen

Monday AMuse

viewers like you

Have a gander at this post of Nanny Goats in Panties who has had a bit of a rant on her blog that may or may not be an over reaction to this article in the Daily Mail.

Either way, it is a telling tale of what some in the UK inaccurately assume of Americans and public television.

Viewers Like You who watch PBS do not like to be patronized.

my eyes are resting

I am still kicking around, although you may not have seen much of my presence of late. Work has gotten a bit out of hand. It has zapped me of my wakefulness and energy. And my muse.

Being useful makes me feel good. I usually like being able to help people out. Then there is the asking of help with your deliveries while you are on holidays in Georgia, or North Carolina or wherever, and having the suggested 80 newspapers balloon into 145........ I am exhausted from helping you out.

I fell asleep on the couch with the tv on - again. Actually, the on/off button on the remote is still broken, so the tv is almost always on as I am too lazy to actually wander over to the set and find the little on/off button to turn it off (or unplug it). Anyway, just wondering.... can anybody out there explain the attraction of the Jersey Shore?

Anybody?

I didn't think so.

My eyes need more rest.

it all started with a little bang

...actually, it all started with a little squeal. Then it progressed to a screeching. By then I had checked my calendar and picked a day to have my car's brakes looked at. Suddenly, overnight, it had become a grinding that got worse with every press of the brake pedal. Several hundred dollars later (including a rental for a day) and I was thinking that, yes, that other contract job I'd been offered was going to be pretty useful.

Someone asked me, just days before all this happened, if I knew a good mechanic. Well, yes, I did and I was happy to send some business his way. I told this person where he could find my good mechanic. "Is he any good", was his next question. Huh? Even if I didn't like you that much, do you honestly think I would rather give an unscrupulous mechanic (and there are many of them out there, I'm sure) more business? But, I like my mechanic. Saturdays are a little iffy, but mostly he is available. It is a small garage with just two people so there is no towing service, or courtesy car, but he does seem to be reliable. He explains only enough so that my eyes don't glaze over. I don't get the broken bits returned to me, like another garage used to do, but I'm fine with that. He knows what kind of work I do and takes that into consideration. If he finds something else that needs fixing immediately, he'll just go ahead and do it. If it can wait, he'll warn me to have it done in the near future. If it can't wait, but he is too busy, he'll call up another neighbourhood garage and send me there. He knows I am trying to sleep during the day, so doesn't bother me with phone calls to ask what he should do - I tell him to make my car better and leave him to it. Many's the time the car was left in the lot for me to pick up after hours; he knew I would return the next day to settle up. Try doing that with a big name automotive service centre.

Actually, my custom with Dan was sealed when another car I owned developed a problem with the battery. I knew it was the battery because, apart from the usual signs and symptoms, every time the car died and I recharged the battery it would work. But the charge didn't last very long. This happened when I was heading out to see a new client. It was a little embarrassing, being so late, then having to get her neighbour to give me a boost while I frantically called CAA for help. She was very understanding about it all. The big name automotive centre I tried was less interested in selling and installing a new battery than in performing a 'diagnostic test' to determine if the thing was indeed dead. And that would take time because there was a line up before me. They had a routine to follow. Just like when I needed a plug in my front left tire, a ten minute fix had to take 1 1/4 hours while they did their full feature routine (for which they charged extra). But it was a Sunday of a holiday weekend and I had little option. Anyway, I got my car to Dan's a couple miles down the road and he took one look at the battery and pronounced it as good as dead. Just to show me how little juice it had he attached some machine to it. In less than half an hour I was on my way and he was back at work on one of the other cars up on the hoist. The whole thing cost less than the 'diagnostic test' from Canadian Tire the other big name automotive centre.

Has anyone else noticed how many winter tire commercials are already on TV? I guess that will be the next big expense.

In other news, I have suddenly discovered just how funny The Big Bang Theory is. Apparently I have three seasons to catch up on. That would be two seasons of 23 espisodes and one season of 17, at approximately 23 minutes each. That is a total of 63 episodes. For 23 hours. I was up most of last night working on that by watching it on the internet.

One should not eat nuts while watching this show. Choking may occur.

the Open, Tour

I know, I haven't been around much.
It has been hot. And I don't like the heat.
It makes me crabby. And a bit listless. And a lot sleepy.

But, while lounging on the chesterfield with my bowl of fruit and my pitcher of cucumber water (so incredibly refreshing!) I have been glancing at the television that has been on for hours between the Tour de France and now, The Open.

I know, most of you are not sports fans. Neither am I actually. But I enjoy the World Cup and the Olympics where countries vie for a place of honour.

But I love the Tour and the Open.

The challenges. The thrills and spills. The hills and bunkers.
The brutal conditions of wind and rain. The long, long days of hard slogging.
The British announcers.

Mostly though, I love the aerial views. That sky over St Andrews has been so dramatic at times. The end of the day shot of Tom Watson crossing the old Swilcan Bridge in the sunset brought a tear to my eye. (yeah, well it was 90F, and I also get sappy when I am not crabby). And France... well, I just want to be in that helicopter, flying low over the Pyrenees (tomorrow!)

And, it is a bit late, but have you ever looked at the official Tour de France website?
It has to be the most detailed and instructional site for any sport, ever.
There are stats and photos and local lore. And not just of the cyclists. It also serves as a most informative tourist guide. You can follow along with a detailed map, read about each area they are passing through. There is a bit of a history lesson. There are calendar worthy photos. You can watch the action. Listen to those British announcers. They have hours and hours and hours to fill with talk and surprisingly I find almost all of it interesting.

One day, I will be among the cheering crowds lining the streets of one of these impossibly picturesque villages...

april showers

Today started out being what would be a perfect spring day - if we hadn't had perfect summer weather on the weekend. Now it is absolutely pissing down rain. Which means I won't have to water my hydrangea for awhile.

On Sunday, I went to the oneofakind art show where I spent way too much money. The plan was to meet J and we would spend the afternoon together being enthralled with the artisans' amazing craftmanship and sample lots of jams and chutneys. But, she woke up with a headache and wasn't up for it, so in the end the plan was changed and I would head over to her place after the show for tea in her garden. I figured 2-3 hours and I would be exhausted from trailing around and seeing so much stuff.

That's what I thought. Four hours later, I ran out of money. To be fair, some of what I bought were birthday and Christmas presents. And I bought myself a new watch, which I love. I don't normally wear watches, but have been keeping my eye out for something that I could read the time, but looked very decorative. I don't wear much jewellery because I am lazy, not because I don't like it. I kept it on and kept looking at it and smiled every time I checked the time.

And, it being the last day of the show, you can usually get some good deals - "these are $12, but we've had such a nice conversation, you can have them for $10", "these ones are actually $xx, but I'll let them go for $x as it's almost the end of the day and I don't want to have to pack them up and cart them home again". Which is how I came home with 3 beautifully carved eggs. I need to find a spot to display them and when it is sunny again I'll take a picture for you.

Eventually, I had to leave. J was waiting for me in her garden, afterall. I wanted to take some pictures at the Exhibition grounds (where there are beautiful art deco and beaux arts buildings) while the trees were still bare. I may have spent a bit longer than I intended outside in the warm sunshine ... but at 5pm I said, enough, time for tea. And I had to be home in time to watch the last ever Inspector Frost. I got into my car, turned it on and took out my cell phone to say I was finally on my way. And realized it was actually 6pm. Seems, the time on my new watch hadn't been sprung forward. We were going to put it off, but I had gotten her a present which was food, so I still went. I think I hit every red light on the drive (which was in the other direction from home).

We had tea, we went back to the car and I showed her what I bought (that weren't the presents), then went back inside for a few more minutes. At exactly 8pm I left to get home in time for Frost.

At exactly 9pm I pulled into my driveway, silently cursing that I would miss the first few minutes - missing the beginning of a murder mystery is never good. The packages could stay in the car. I reached over to the back seat for my purse. An hour and twenty minutes later, I was back at J's house for my purse with my house keys and cell phone inside. My neighbour with an extra key was not home. There was nothing for it, but to return to Toronto. And holiday traffic had obviously not eased up yet. It had eased for the second homeward bound journey, which only took 45 minutes.

This made up for a totally uneventful previous week, I guess.

my eyes have seen...

So, where have I been?

Nowhere and everywhere.

I have finally gotten my new progressive lens glasses and believe you me, they take some getting used to. I took them to the movies with me while I gazed at George Clooney staring at goats and dispensing advice of air travel. I took them off and replaced them with cool 3D glasses for A Christmas Carol and Avatar. I have been practising with them by watching tv and reading at the same time. Reading a new Grisham and the first Steig Larsson. I can't put either one down just yet. Watching marathons where I went to The Office in Pennsylvania and Florida with The Golden Girls. Then I discovered a way to watch almost anything from television on the internet (ninjavideo) so I caught up with the dark side of Florida with Dexter and balanced it out with a bit of Glee. There was another charming bit of Dickens with a rather young Derek Jacobi in Little Dorrit for eight straight hours. Then some more time travel with Mad Men and finally with the End of the Time Lord himself with Dr Who.

At least my eyes muscles got some exercise.

I am exhausted.

Even though it is still rather cold here, it has warmed up enough for me to venture out for a coffee. Where there is a fireplace, to finish my book. Where I may practice writing while wearing my new glasses.

SundayStills - technology

You may recall awhile back I mentioned my broken television.

Well, it took until yesterday to get a replacement. Mostly because I will put off anything for another day if I can, but partly because I realized I did not miss having a television all that much. all that much. but still a little. (and lordy, has it been that long?!)

I was house sitting for another neighbour last week and during a period of non-sleep, I thought, I'll just wander downstairs and see if her plants need watering... and who is on Ellen... and maybe catch up on Y&R, the news, then Corrie... by the time Jeopardy and a repeat of The Office came on I realized, maybe, just a little.

Then my cable bill came in. I looked at how much money I had wasted spent without enjoying any of the benefits of the transaction. So a deal was struck and I came home with a second hand television.

Except, I cannot get the blessed thing to work. It looks simple enough - you put the colour coded cable thingies into the correct colour coded bits, plug it in and voila! But there was no voila!
There was a bit of merde! and a few other choice words as I manoeuvred and plugged and unplugged, then sat on hold for 15 minutes with the cable guys. Then had an almost incomprehensible conversation that included the words 'coloured thingies' and 'the thicker cable' (oh the shame).

Now, I'm thinking it was not the fault of the television set at all, but the digital cable box. There seems to be a loose connection because of certain noises it makes when certain cable thingies are jostled. All of which is strange as that little box has not moved from its prominent position on top of the television set since it was set up a few years ago.

I hate technology, sometimes.

But, this is a photo challenge and I am up for it.

Look at the sleekness of this beauty. It is elegant. It swivels and tilts. It is incredibly lightweight.

You can't even buy a big-assed television set like the one under my newer sleeker model.

Isn't technology grand, sometimes?

two cats, two televisions

Before I have my key in the door it starts. The meowing. An incessant meowing. Not a me-e-ow here and there, more like a staccato, with no pause for breath and definitely not drawn out. meowmeowmeowmeowmeowmeowmeowmeow. Then, she flops down in front of my feet with no warning, no change in her meowmeowmeow. We play for a bit. She may or may not eat, now that I am here. She grabs a drink of water, then ... pounces. I don't think this cat knows how to retract her claws. She kneads your neck. your neck!! I found some teatowels and learned to drape myself; the claws get through but not as sharply. We finally settle into a routine and I bring over an old toy of Abby's that she no longer bothers with. It is a flexible wire with bits of cardboard on either end. You can hold it with one hand and let it flop around and watch the cat do amazing pirouettes, flips and triple salchows and stretch every single muscle her body owns. I sigh as I think how I can barely straighten up after tying my shoes.

My cat, Abby is almost 15 years old. Maggie is a little over a year old. I often wonder what I will do when Abby is gone - will I get another kitten? an older cat? or maybe two cats?

I have noticed within the last couple of weeks that she no longer follows me every time I head for the washroom. She now barely even deigns to open one eye when I move. Lazy beggar. She's fine and healthy, just... old, I guess.

So, babysitting Maggie was an interesting reminder. I have heard, from my friend Brian, that she has become much more affectionate since he returned after two weeks away!

While we are playing with towels and bits of cardboard and wire, I watch TV. I soon started timing my visits to coincide with certain programs. That big screen ( 27", 32", I forgot to measure, but certainly way bigger than my 17") with HD and satellite almost had me gasping. I don't watch an awful lot of television, so never pay much attention to the latest innovations. I soon started rethinking that. Wondering just how much a satellite dish cost anyway... and now that my television has decided to be most unco-operative (it turns itself off whenever it feels like it and has a fuzzy reflection on the screen and I'm told: it's better to just buy a new one...)

So now, I am sitting here with a cat who may or may not have moved from her (my) bed since I came home from work at 4:30AM and no tv at all. I feel a little lost. Yet liberated at the same time. I have no idea what shows I am missing because I only check the listings if I know I can be at home and watch it. I can at least scratch behind an ear or two without having my neck scarred. And we both seem to have a lot of time to stretch out the massage. I should think about charging her for the hour. Nah, I'm getting my pleasure in reflective contemplation and warmth from a heavy cat stretched across my stomach and chest. It's lovely really, this slow, steady non- moving sleepy cat.

I went to the store to check out new televisions (if I am paying for cable, I should at least have the choice of watching it or not, yes?) and am still undecided. Then I wandered next door to the pet store. The kittens were sleeping.

where I dream of escape

One of my favourite 'cooking shows' is on again and every Wednesday lunchtime I make a large pot of tea and stretch out on the chesterfield and float away ... to the canals of France.
With Rick Stein's French Odyssey.

It doesn't matter how many times I've seen each episode, or that I will never attempt to recreate any of his recipes, just listening to him enthusiastically describe the ingredients and the cooking method, humming along to the the head-bopping, toe-tapping accompanying music, watching the tranquil scenery unfold as his barge put-puts through the canals of Southern France into the most picturesque countryside and villages gets me drooling. And weeping with jealousy.

He is brimming with passion at everything he sees and tastes. So many of these 'reality shows' are so earnest as to be painful to watch. This is one example that takes you into the tv with him, "the constantly changing vista: sometimes a ruined chateaux, rolling vine-laden countryside, yellow fields of corn. The utterly serene pace of life."

"Coming into a village is particularly easy on the eye… The Canal du Midi was built when the waterways were the deluxe form of transport --- so that unlike entering a modern town by train, past back gardens, graffiti-daubed walls and rusty factories --- travelling by French canals you go through the best bits: …under elegant bridges and alongside towpaths with pretty houses, right into the centre."

He mentions frequently that things move at a leisurely pace and that locals take their time to experience and savour the finer things of life. Lunches and dinners were always enjoyed leisurely, with always just enough and no more. There is a French saying that one should always leave the table wanting more. This is suppose to be one way to keep yourself trimmer - though it doesn't look like it worked on him. Perhaps, the barge trip was a little too leisurely?

I'm sure it is not all so perfect as the series suggests.
But it does looks so unbelievably romantic.

I need a glass of wine.

Someone please make me a cassoulet.

a television show can make me drool

There was just the teensiest bit of excitement in the household last night. A night for elegant voyeurism.

The return of Poirot.

Granted, it was a very old episode first shown exactly 20 years ago. And I understand there were new ones made in 2008 and that David Suchet wants to continue until he has done every single story written.

So far he has done over 60. That's right - bet you didn't realize there were so many. I certainly didn't, as we probably keep getting the same 2 dozen every time, repeated.

Still.

It is that 1930's decadence. The glamour. That art deco style. That apartment!

Much of Hercule Poirot's world is influenced by the art deco movement and the television series has been permanently set in 1936 to take full advantage of it. The architecture and artifacts are just as much a star of the show as Poirot, Japp, Hastings and the ever efficient Miss Lemon (with her curls on her forehead!). All of them play off each other beautifully as an ensemble and often with understated hilarious effects.

But it is the houses and the artifacts within that really hold my attention. Someone pours tea and I freely lust after that tea service. It is all a visual delight and the many closeup shots of the details only add to the feast.

What a week it has been.


Vera Duckworth dies on Coronation Street.
Kay Chancellor dies on the Young & the Restless.
each is an original cast member of their respective soap - in a sea of young newcomers.
But wait..........

Genoa City is about to be challenged in a way that Weatherfield could never imagine.

my Friday nights...

If you are expecting a concise precis and opinion piece about the Presidential Debate, I should let you know that you will not find it here. You'll need to look elsewhere.

While many of your were sat on your sofas watching the debate last night, I was not. You see, I had a date with The Doctor. Who? Yes, he is back. After months of waiting, months and months (this season started in APRIL in the UK, for crissakes!) HE has returned.

Am I alone in this? Any other David Tennant fans?* Dr Who allegiances? Do you need an explanation? What is Dr Who?

Here is a brief (very) synopsis:

• Dr Who, in its various incarnations, is the longest sci fi series on television.
  
• The Doctor has been around for millennia. Dr Who as a series only for my lifetime.


• The Doctor has no known first name.


• The Doctor is a mysterious human-ish alien who uses a TARDIS to time-travel


• the TARDIS (time and relative dimension in space) is a space capsule that is in the shape of a Police Call Box which has a considerably larger interior than exterior.
  
• there have been several Doctors, with David Tennant being the tenth.


• other Doctors included Christopher Eccleston (ninth), Tom Baker (fourth) and Peter Davison (Tristan Farnham from All Creatures Great and Small fame) (fifth)


• the Doctor always has a companion to share his adventures, the current one being comedienne Catherine Tate


• the Doctor has many strange looking adversaries (read monsters), the most well-known are the Daleks

Last week introduced Catherine Tate as Donna (actually introduced in the Christmas special in the UK, which CBC has not deemed important enough to show here. Damn them. Who makes these decisions?) I wasn't sure about this comedienne as a companion, but by now I realize I love Donna. She is a refreshing break from the giddy, awestruck Rose and the mediocre Martha. Donna stands up to the Doctor and there's less adoring glances and more sass. There is more hilarity this time around and the chemistry between The Doctor and Donna should prove to be an intriguing season.

Okay, I'll stop. For now. You can read about The Doctor here and the episodes here. And watch online here. The official website is here.

*I know Crystal Jigsaw and Sagittarian are with me. Check out More Canterbury Tales for her post on David Tennant.

inspiration ... in appreciation

the weather for today
morning afternoon evening night

Well, what do you know ... it is RAINING! with a THUNDERSTORM!

We have had more lightning strikes in the last month than in all of the last year. If nature wanted to prove she has the power she has done it, she has succeeded. 9,050 times in fact, in June alone. And how many times did I jump up with a start at the sound of rain and run outside to check on my sunroof that was all along closed? Well, not 9,050 times, I'm not that absent-minded.

The cat is oblivious to it all and is sitting outside on the balcony
soaking up the wet from the green carpet.
Watching the pigeons.
Yes, Clive and Jack and Vera are back.
Maybe not the original ones, but who knows?


Doesn't matter as the tv is on and the remote is nearby for easy switching from
to

The weather in England is windy.
The weather in Italy is wet.
The weather in Canada is wet and windy.
The weather in Australia is warm and sunny.
Well somewhere in Australia.

Maybe not Melbourne, where it is a chilly, winterish 12C and my blog friend Frogdancer is knitting SCARVES for everyone due to some idea of extreme cold.

People in Australia live in a topsy turvy world.


But, since she has given me my FIRST AWARD I shall not be rude or condescending or mention any more that she is knitting scarves in 12C weather.

So, it seems I must now pass this on to SEVEN other people.

I could hardly sleep for thinking about this immense responsibility. This is my first afterall. I promise to become more blase by the third or fifth ...
So, in no particular order here are my chosen seven:

Crystal Jigsaw for having such good stories and turns of phrase. And for having a life sized cardboard cutout of David Tennant in her room.
XUP for seeing so much humour in life. Jazz for her dry wit. So few words can convey so much with her comments.
Urban Animal who used to be a Happy Downtowner but now just keeps on running. Like a fox. Chasing a dream. And happy to do it.
Under There for the most thought provoking writing. Ever. A perfect combination of seriousness and funny. Ruth over at synch-ro-ni-zing for her prose and photos. Lovely.
Lone Grey Squirrel on whose blog I lurked for a long time before finally commenting and was immediately challenged/inspired to come up with my own New 7 Wonders votes that took up so many delightful hours of my time last week.


Padraig Harrington has his award.
So drop on by. Pick up your award and pass it on to your own seven..

Drinks are on me.