where I explain a photo

It seems my filing system is perhaps the most boring on the planet. I've been tagged by Sistertex to show the fourth photo in the fourth folder of where I store my pictures. I have a haphazard system of moving photos into folders that are named such things as "blogger pics" and "violet's pics" as they are posted. I have no idea at the moment whether I thought there should be a difference in these folders, as they both seem to hold photos that have been posted to my blog. I also have a folder named "family pics". Since I rarely think to take people photos, most of these are a collection of photos that other people have taken and sent on to me. Bless them for that.
Thereafter most of my photos are listed by date uploaded. Which makes it difficult to find certain ones at times. I think about reorganizing, but am a) lazy and b) overwhelmed by the fact that I haven't deleted any unless they were truly bad. Some are not even in folders and I still have not figured out why.

I was feeling a tad worried about this tag thinking, maybe I should just randomly open my pictures and keep looking until I found a nice picture with a story attached... but, I played by the rules and it worked out nicely without any covert cheating on my part.

So, before we begin, here are the rules:
1. Open the fourth folder where you store your photos
2. Go to the fourth photo in that folder.
3. Explain the photo.
4. Tag four people to do the same.

Hmmm, so consider yourselves tagged: Geewits, Susan, Oliag, Jazz.

Now, back to me.

So, since I bought my camera to take with me on my first, and so far only, trip to New York City, my 4th folder is the first dated one in 2008 (after the three 'named' ones I mentioned above). The 4th pic is this:

And the story is (partly) this:

I went to NYC in January to meet up with an Australian friend who was stopping over on her way home from Peru. It seemed a long way around to get back to Melbourne, and it involved a few days in Portugal, where quite frankly, I would rather have gone to meet her. For some reason, New York did not hold much interest for me, especially in late January. My friend, Fiona, really wanted to go shopping on Fifth Avenue, and I really did not. I thought we'll have to go to Central Park because we were staying right there, but it being in the dead of winter, I figured a quick peek in and out would suffice.

I was so wrong. I spent more time wandering through and around that Park than anywhere else. I could not get enough of it. The bare trees only enhanced the view and reaffirmed its immense size. People were friendly and helpful in giving directions. Even though the weather was warm enough to feel like an early spring, I ever so briefly thought it might be fun to go skating. I was a little surprised to discover you had to pay for the privilege (on top of the skate rental) and since I hadn't skated in far too many years to know if I still could, I contented myself with more walking. I found some hot pretzels and sat on a rock and watched the skaters before wandering the streets of Manhattan. Alone. Because somehow I lost Fiona.

That is another story, unrelated to this particular photo.

the first post in an irregular new feature that involves me walking

My usual daily jaunt around town most often involves walking along the waterfront, or at least through part of the park on the waterfront.

I wasn't going to let a little thing like a crowd stop me from my enjoyment.

Some years, I sat on my balcony and if the wind was blowing the right direction, the smoke and aroma of the Ribfest wafted over my way. I would look down on the street below - before the trees grew up to obscure the view - and see dozens of people walking home with white styrofoam containers stuffed with delectable ribs, or corn, or whatever it was they stood in line for many, many minutes to purchase.

I'm not even remotely fond of ribs, but it would be enough to entice me down from my quiet contemplation to immerse myself into the crowd that had gathered to eat, listen to music, buy stuff, and enjoy the novelty of being able to walk around outside with a plastic cup of beer in hand.

I'm also not overly fond of crowds, but love to see events like this enjoyed by so many people. Since I'm not buying and live so close, I can simply leave when I've had enough and sit at my favourite cafe and watch the people who wait patiently for the free shuttle bus that will take them to the far flung places where they have (thankfully) parked their cars.

One can never be too overdressed for buying ribs. Now how long before that bus...

This group was the last to get on this bus... it would take 2 more buses to pick up the rest of the seemingly neverending line that snaked down the block and around the corner.

Once they all cleared off the sidewalk, I headed back home to my potato salad and my own not-a-$5-Coors-Lite-8oz-beer.

"Four days of warm weather and sunshine brought over 175,000 people to the 14th Annual Canada’s Largest Ribfest in Spencer Smith Park in Burlington, Ontario - Crushing last year’s attendance record of 148,000.
An astonishing 150,000 lbs of ribs consumed over the weekend!
The venue, entertainment, 18 rib teams from across North America, attendance, ribs consumed and money raised for charities makes Canada’s Largest Ribfest the “Super Bowl” of Ribfests across Canada.
The organisers from The Rotary Club of Burlington Lakeshore were also elated to raise an estimated $320,000 for local charities. Over the last 14 years, total money raised is now over $2,170,000."

~from website

Monday AMuse

SundayStills - rule of thirds

The idea of the rule of thirds is that you should place the key subject one-third of the way in from the edge of the photo, rather than dead centre.

There is a setting on most cameras with a grid pattern (like a tic tac toe board) across an image to break it into nine equal squares. The four points where these lines intersect are the strongest focal points. The lines themselves are the second strongest focal points.

I don't actually remember to use this setting, preferring to "eyeball" it. Then again, I was dismayed when I looked through my photos to find that I don't use this rule quite as obviously as I thought I did (for someone who loves asymmetry!) Too many close ups, perhaps. These were not cropped however - all straight out of the camera shots.

oooh, look, more orange! a leftover from yesterday's post.

see what other contributers of SundayStills have come up with.

PhotoHunt- Orange

One of the more fun things to do on a summer's evening is to wander over to Cruise Night - a strange name for a parking lot of vintage motors, though I understand in some places they actually do cruise down the streets - and poke your head into several old, usually refurbished automobiles. Yes, these are better described as automobiles than cars. And this one in particular is perfectly suited for this week's PhotoHunt challenge of Orange.

for more orange photos see PhotoHunt

best ever butter tart

Butter tarts are (that bit of dessert on the plate in the post below that is not fruit or yogurt or cheese or eggs) the most decadent of Canada's National Treasures. The act of eating one is almost a patriotic duty. As is the annual search for the best butter tart recipes and the inevitable arguments that follow. There are many subtle variations of this beloved dessert but by far the most contentious difference, beyond the amount of gooeiness, is the addition of raisins or pecans or walnuts. Sort of the same argument that exists with banana bread. I personally do not bake, butter tarts or any other desserts - preferring to buy mine and not having to deal with the ensuing cleanup. That may seem lazy to some, but I will happily drive to Dee's Bakery which makes "butter tarts to die for". Check out her website and see for yourself. You can place an order and people from as far away as Australia and England apparently do! Because these are only in Canada. Pity.

Or you could try this recipe I stole from the ever respected Marion Kane.

from CBC website
Q Food Sleuth Marion Kane tracks down one of Canada's most popular desserts and offers this recipe for the best ever butter tart.
Adapted from The Complete Canadian Living Cookbook (Random House), this produces the best homemade butter tart I've tried: flaky, melt-in-the mouth pastry with a gooey but not too runny filling. And they're a cinch to make. - Marion Kane

Use proper baking method for dry ingredients: measuring scoops or spoons and a knife to slice off the top, not a measuring cup. You can make dough in a food processor instead of by hand. I found a 28-oz/796-mL can works perfectly for cutting it into rounds. Add raisins or coarsely chopped pecans, if desired. (Violet has tasted butter tarts with dried cranberries instead of raisins, interesting added flavour)

1½ cups all-purpose flour
Pinch of salt¼ cup cold butter, cubed
¼ cup cold lard or vegetable shortening, cubed
I large egg yolk
I tsp white vinegar
¼ cup ice-cold water

Filling:
½ cup packed dark brown sugar
½ cup maple (or golden corn) syrup
1 large egg
1 tsp vanilla
1 tsp lemon juice
2 tbsp softened butter
Pinch of salt
¼ to ½ cup raisins
Preheat oven to 375F.

For dough, combine flour and salt in large bowl. Using old-fashioned wire pastry cutter or two knives, cut in butter and lard until mixture resembles coarse crumbs. Using fork, stir in egg yolk, lemon and water until dough holds together. Wrap; refrigerate at least 1 hour.

If using raisins, plump them up by covering with boiling water while preparing the rest of the filling.

For filling, vigorously whisk together all ingredients except raisins in medium bowl until combined. (This can be done in food processor.)

Roll out dough on lightly floured surface until fairly but not too thin. Using 4" round cookie cutter or empty 28-oz can, cut into 12 rounds to fit 3" cups of muffin tin. Divide raisins between each pastry shell; spoon on filling.

Bake in oven 15 to 18 minutes or until pastry is golden brown. Cool in pan about 2 minutes. Run knife or small metal spatula around edge of each tart; transfer to wire rack to cool completely.

Makes 12 butter tarts.

Eat with care ... and remember it is always better to share!

market day

a foray to the market brought home a plateful* of goodies (and more)

what do you think I ate first for breakfast..................?

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*not meant to be consumed at one sitting

please, no, don't change

So, hands up all who have received their new IKEA catalogue.
Have you looked through it?
Thoroughly?
Did you notice the changes that were made to the design of the catalogue?
Do you feel the "lack of warmth" in the new typeface?
No?
Well, it seems many people have noticed and have gotten their knickers in quite a twist over it. There is even a petition going to have the font changed back from the 'new' Verdana to the 'old' Futura. Actually, it was IKEA's customized version of Futura, which they have used for almost 50 years and has been an "integral part of their branding".
So much outrage over a font. Though, mostly, it is from people who are really, really into fonts and typefaces and graphic design who feel it is "a sad day" and are "horrified" by this shift. You can read all about their anger and angst here. But be warned, there will be more details about the significance and intricacies of various fonts than most of you (I'm guessing, though I may be wrong) will ever care about. I actually found it interesting, even though I didn't understand a lot of the details. IKEA says they changed it to blend with the web so that their online catalogue will match their printed catalogue. They also say that most people won't even notice the change and are surprised at the backlash.

Which makes it seem like they are saying it isn't important. Design isn't important? For a company that prides itself on innovative design? That is now using what some consider the most basic (and inelegant, when writ large) font available. Ah, but it is a free font, provided by Microsoft. Except all signs must now be changed... so, the cheap change does not come so cheap.

On Aug. 26, a Romanian design consultant started an online petition to get Ikea to change its mind. There are already almost 4,000 signatures! To add yours go here.
Wikipedia even has a page (that may be deleted soon) about this called Verdanagate, as well as a page on the catalogue.

Now the real issue for the rest of us may be that they are possibly gearing up for an end to their printed catalogue, which would be a shame. It is the most printed publication, surpassing the Bible and Harry Potter. There was a time when I had saved every one for over 10 years. I think I got tired of packing them up every time I moved and eventually got rid of them. On a rainy Saturday afternoon with nothing better to do though, I did like to thumb through the old ones and reminisce...
see here for a museum collection IKEA catalogues.

The most interesting part of this story is that IKEA has been around for 58 years! FUTURA VERDANA COMIC SANS

Though this wit thinks it will not last much longer!

And on this site you can find a 1965 version of the catalogue.

Now, I think I'll head out for some strong Swedish coffee and a look at some Sultans, Leksviks, Erdslevs, and maybe some Färgkrik.

(P.S. this font is Trebuchet)

and the rains came down and washed it all away...

The worst part of my job of delivering newspapers is not the 2AM start time, nor the 364 days a year, though that is hard to handle. Nor is it the cold winter nights, the ice, or the wind and rain - those are fleeting in the grand scheme of things.

The worry of running into a skunk usually amounts to nothing as they amble off, in search of more garbage. Waving the paper in front of you helps to dispel the occasional spider web. You learn to lift your feet so as not to trip over kids' toys, or garden hoses, or small plants left in your way that you cannot see in the dark. And to listen for that telltale sississ of the sprinkler system starting up before the water streams out in an unknown direction that could likely be where you are standing.

I hate running into people in the elevators. I am tired and dirty and sweaty and don't smell nearly as fresh as they who are newly awake and recently showered.

No, the worst part is the ever present markings of newsprint. It gets everywhere. And by everywhere, I mean everywhere that you touch. Your face, your hair, your clothes, the apple fritter that you stupidly decided you needed, the door that you push to open, the handrail, the switch plate, the taps ... and most irritatingly, the steering wheel. Because once it is on the steering wheel, the whole dirty process starts over again every time you are in the car. It is not easy to wash off. It takes a lot of furious scrubbing. Dish soap is often the best for getting through the grime. But there is almost always still a touch of it embedded within your fingerprints. Dark grey water droplets get all over the sink and the counter and walls and mirror if you are stupid enough to automatically shake your damp hands before drying off with a towel. It goes without saying that I have no white towels.

Oh, I know, there are ways around this. I could wear latex gloves - some people do - but I find them irritating and they never fit properly on my short fingers. And that wouldn't stop the problem of newsprint getting all over the steering wheel. I could wash the steering wheel every morning ... but we all know that is not going to happen. I could have Wet Ones (or equivalent) and use them after every twenty papers or so, but that would just make my hands sticky. And eat into my time and profit because I'd be going through an awful lot of them with 320 papers a night (400 + inserts on Saturday).

Last night (Saturday morning delivery) had to be one of the worst. Not only did we get lashings of rain pissing down as if the gods (all of them) were pouring out buckets, but I 'scared' two - 2! - skunks who were playing in the puddles. I can still taste the acrid smell in the back of my throat, though I don't think they sprayed very much and at least not directly at me or my car. I backed into a bright yellow bollard that I couldn't see for the heavy rain and fogged up windows, denting and scraping the new paint job on the rear bumper.

BUT, it was my last night for one of the papers. It was not easy to decide to give up a contract job (though after last night...). I know that I am tired of being tired all the time. There are so many other things I would like to do - like take a few more little holidays. Go to a few more fall festivals. Stay up late and watch Jon Stewart at 11 instead of at noon the next day. I can replace the exercise (?!) I'm losing by going on early morning hikes. There are over 100 waterfalls to explore in the city of Hamilton. And my car will be just a little bit less dirty.

I will hopefully fit in a few more massage appointments to pay for the car repairs.....

weekends away

For a successful wild women weekend at a cottage, there are a few things that can make the time truly memorable. It helps if one of you actually owns a cottage that you can use. It also helps if one of you should be an excellent cook who absolutely loves to feed the five thousand. You should all love to laugh about life and have a cache of stories to share. And be willing to just lounge around and drink coffee or wine or water or whatever. Indoor plumbing is a good thing to have. As is a fire at the end of the day.

You should travel far enough away that it feels like a true escape from the life you have without these friends nearby.

You find yourself a little dream car

and leave the big city behind

and drive until you cannot drive any further

then you venture a little.

then you stop.