Boxing Day....Literally??

Following in the footsteps of his Grand-Mootha, Julian joined the black eyed club on Boxing Day no less. But was he boxing?

No.

This shiner was the result of sliding down 'the death hill' in Harvey Station. Nothing like a family party on Boxing Day to put colour in your cheeks! Julian's face 'kissed' some gnarly ice during a wipe-out.

I, myself, almost died in a separate accident near the death hill, though not involving a toboggan. In fact, my 'brush with death' was a Thanksgiving mishap that occurred about five years ago. I took an apple to the temple, thrown by a holy hurler. Damn near dropped me into an early grave.

The Annual Varty-Slash-Nielsen Christmas Card 2012

For the past ten years I've created an e-Christmas card. This year I (we) made a video. I was the videographer. Julian spent hours editing the raw film in the luxurious Varty Graphics Studios. Wendy, well, she was the star.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KAnCyp-3XH4&feature=youtu.be

First (legitimate) Snow - Winter 2012/13

Who's to say what constitutes the 'first snow' of the year? If I can't see the green of my lawn, then that's it for me. Our first snow happened a few days ago. At least it's the first snow since I returned to New Brunswick in December.

As always, it's gorgeous.

Power Serge And Little Masta Kate

Last night New Brunswick endured either a snowstorm or a deluge of rain, depending upon where you lived. We received more rain than snow but what we really got was power outages and brown outs. Many of them.

One of them managed to knock out my desktop computer (the big POS). It's too early to tell if it simply knocked out the computer's power supply or if it fried the hard drive. I'll have to take it to Fredericton for servicing. Harumph. I'm typing this on my notebook computer, otherwise known as the LPOS (little piece of shi__).

That's the first time a power surge has done damage to anything other than my ears. There used to be two deejays on a local radio station who assumed the on air personas of Power Serge and Little Masta Kate. To this day I can't utter the words 'power surge' without tacking on a 'little Masta Kate' chaser.

Damn them.

Eric Clapton, Mick Jagger, Me Mootha, Roger Waters

Last night Wendy and Julian watched the Hurricane Sandy Relief Benefit Concert which featured such musical luminaries as Paul McCartney, the Rolling Stones, Roger Waters, Alicia Keys, The Who, Eric Clapton, Kanye West, Billy Joel, to name but a few. I joined the fray at 11 p.m. when I returned home from badminton in 'the Hamptons'.

During some of the benefit concert's slower moments, Julian played some classic videos of Me Mootha.

The benefit concert finished at 2:15 a.m., at which time I announced to Julian that the highlight of the evening was watching the Me Mootha videos. Apparently the Rolling Stones, Clapton and Roger Waters were also excellent. What is it about these British characters, including Mootha, that makes them so attractive?

Kids Playing or Playing KIDS

Two days ago I bought a synthesizer. It's a Micro Korg and it's...you know, like, pretty cool. I thought I'd try KIDs by MGMT on it because it might sound good and it's the only song I know on keyboard. 

I got spoiled in Toronto having access to two grand pianos. As gorgeous a sound as the grand piano makes, the Korg in New Brunswick makes me just a bit more hip. I need all the help that I can get!

I Tossed My Supper...To A Rough-legged Hawk!

I should have enjoyed a nice beef stew for supper last evening, instead I fed my stewing beef cubes, the entire package, to a wild and hungry rough-legged hawk.

As I was driving home from the Oromocto Superstore yesterday, I was admiring the many hawks that were sitting in trees, waiting for mice to appear in the meadows below. Every approaching winter seems to draw these large hawks to the Grand Lake Meadows where field mice must be an abundant source of food.

Up ahead I saw one rough-legged hawk, dark phase plumage, fly across the road awkwardly (or hawkwardly, if you will). It occurred to me that this was odd behaviour. As I approached the hawk in my car I noticed that this particular fellow stayed on the shoulder of the road. I assumed one of two things: he had some food he wasn't prepared to part with, or he was injured.

I got out of my car and approached the hawk. He flew a few feet and then proceeded to walk away from me. I walked towards him. Eventually we got to a point where we were seven feet apart, both staring at each other suspiciously. I gave him my best 'eagle eye', he countered with piercing hawk eyes. We stayed like this for some time until it became evident that he was injured and probably unable to feed himself, then the lights came on (!).

In the car I had about a pound of stewing beef, neatly cubed, that was destined to be part of my supper. How could I be so selfish? It would have been a shame to dine alone, so I walked back to the car, grabbed the package of beef and went back to my hawk. He hadn't moved. I peeled back the cellophane wrapper and tossed him a cube. Bad toss, it was too far from him. My third toss landed a piece right in front of the hawk. He knew what to do. 

Stabbing the meaty morsel with his talon, he then proceeded to shield the meat with his wings, then tear away at it with his beak. For a hawk, he was decidedly ravenous. I ended up feeding the hawk half of the package of beef and I left the rest with him. Ideally it will fuel him up until his wing can heal, but I'll probably never know his fate.

One thing is for sure, it's unlikely I'll ever have supper with a wild hawk again. It was a once-in-a-lifetime dinner experience, even better than having supper with Prince Charles!

I Ain't Givin' or Gettin' Nuttin' For Christmas...I Hope

aught, blank, bottom, cipher, insignificancy, love (think tennis), lowest point, nada, nadir, naught, nil, nix, nobody, nonentity, nought, nullity, oblivion, ought, rock bottom, scratch, shutout, void, zilch, zip, zot.

Nothing.

That's what I want for Christmas this year. Quite frankly, I've got enough stuff and I should use/appreciate what I've got...and I've got plenty. Someone once said 'he who dies with the most toys wins'. What rubbish. I say 'he who plays with his toys the most wins'. My version is still ludicrous, but it's better than the material man's. In the end, it should be about balance: personal and planetary.

And you know what? You've got too much stuff too, so I'm not giving you anything. Be happy with what you've got because, like me, you've already got too much.

Note: this is not a 'bah humbug' take on Christmas, it's simply an exhibition of my disdain for excess. I think that we should eat, drink and be merry...isn't that enough?

Back In Cottage Country

Well, I survived almost five weeks in Toronto. The reality is that I enjoyed my time there. It gave me a few things that Cambridge-Narrows doesn't, most notably a social life. Of course one could argue that one make's one's own social life and that 'this one' doesn't make much of an effort in Cambridge-Narrows. Whatever.

So now I'm back in the Narrows...cottage country. As I look across the lake, leaves off the trees, I'm able to see Matt and Robin's new 'cottage'. It looks great and is a welcome addition to the neighbourhood. It's nice to see young families, full of life, moving into the area. They're in stark contrast to my deadbeat neighbours, the Beers. Sadly, while I was away in Toronto, the Beers came onto my property and 'rearranged' some of my 'landscaping'. They are a dark cloud.

Stairway To Heaven?

If you're an art lover, then this may well be the Stairway To Heaven. Stylish, new-age, mind and metal bending, non-conformist....this is an outdoor staircase at the Art Gallery Of Ontario. When you're in it you get a gorgeous panorama of the southern Toronto skyline. As you can see, it's equally impressive from the outside as well.

Hurrah for architects! Hurrah for arts patrons with deep pockets!! If they're not going to give part of their fortune to me, then they might as well do something like this. Or feed the poor.

The Rocking Fergusons

Wendy's first cousin, Michael Ferguson (Barrie's son), lives in Toronto and plays drums in a band called The Wholesomes. Last night Wendy and I went to a bar called The Smiling Buddha to hear Michael's band make their first public appearance. Michael can play the drums...WOW! I was quite a contrast to the COC Ensemble competition which I heard the night before. Something for everyone!