It was so nice to find these this morning, whilst walking around the block on my paper route.
I do love this time of year.
Tag Archives: Ontario
One-Liner Wednesday – Guess Who I’m Gonna See
I’ve never heard Adam Lambert, but I’m thinking he must be good to fill such impressive shoes.
Experimenting
Playing around with my camera while I was waiting for Alex’s bus to arrive, I found a few interesting things:
A feather trapped in the branches of my hedge.
Leaves glued to the ice, so transparent that their skeletons are showing.
I liked the way the lens focused on the twigs, rendering the house in the background an afterthought.
Now that I have a memory card for the camera I bought before Christmas, I’ll start taking it out more often. My phone takes decent pictures, but it can’t beat 16.1 megapixels. I just have to learn how to use it to its full advantage.
Preservation
Winter is being such a bitch this year, particularly on my roof. Granted there are many people in the neighbourhood who have it worse: it seems on every street there are houses missing so much of their eavestroughs that I can see their rafters from the street. And trust me, no one wants their rafters showing.
In an effort to not be one of them, I’ve tried a couple of different methods to relieve my roof of the eight inches of ice that is threatening to pull down what’s left of my eavestroughs. Chipping at it didn’t work – it’s far too solid. So I figured, why not throw some salt up there? As soon as we have a nice day, maybe it’ll melt from the top rather than the bottom as it has done for the past couple of weeks, causing the residual water to come in around my window frames – inside the house.
The salt, however, seems to be rather picky when it comes to the roof. It melts the ice just fine on the sidewalk.
After putting almost a full ten pounds of salt on my roof, what do I have?
This, first of all:
:
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It would seem the salt has created some interesting formations out of my icicles.
What else?
Everything dripping off my roof is crystalised. I have white splattered all over my exterior walls, I have white steps at the front of my house, and best of all, I have a saltwater cascade dripping down my windows and onto my hardwood floors. And still, I have eight inches of ice on my roof.
The good news? The mold that I’m positive is growing on the other side of my drywall will be well preserved.
The Ice is Laughing at Me
First it was the ice storm. Remember that? Back in December, just before Christmas I slipped on the ice and hit my head on a concrete step. Result: concussion. Thank goodness I had the lovely villainous Navigator1965 to cover for me.
Then there were the frost quakes. They were fun.
And let’s not forget the icicles, that led to the destruction of my eavestroughs.
And now? To add insult to injury, the ice is laughing at me:
Can you see the big grin? Just in case, I drew eyebrows, eyes, a mustache and a goatee on him:
Have I mentioned lately that I’m sick of winter?
Adventures on My Paper Route – Strange Formations and a Pretty Bird
Brave, hardy birds, cardinals are. Today was cold and crisp – a pleasant 9 degrees C, (16 degrees F). I heard him singing first – they have a very distinctive song.
But the thing which has puzzled me for the past few weeks is this odd way the icicles have been forming… or leaning after they’ve formed. It seems they only do this if they begin above a window, so the only reason I can fathom is it has something to do with the heat from inside.
The first is an east-facing wall, and the second is a north-facing wall, so the sun has nothing to do with it.
Any ideas?
Stream of Consciousness Saturday Fe8/14
Don’t you hate it when you see someone who you think you recognize but you’re not sure?
There are two scenarios that I can think of at the moment: One; you can’t place the person at all, and two; you’re not sure if it’s the person you think it is or if it’s some stranger.
For instance, I’m sitting in the food court of the local mall, watching a guy who I can see in profile as he talks to a little girl beside him, and I could swear it’s Tyler Stewart, drummer for the band, the Bare Naked Ladies. So, do I go over and say hi to him? It wouldn’t be too weird – I went to high school with him. We were in the same music program together. He has much less hair now… But I’m thinking, if it was him, wouldn’t there be mobs of people hanging around him?
Maybe not.
What do you do when this happens? Do you avoid eye contact and hope they don’t notice you? Do you take a chance?
I once had a woman walk up to me in a shopping mall, much like the one I’m in, and she was absolutely positive I was someone else. She called me “Nicky,” asked me how I’d been doing, and I think she was going to hug me until I managed to get a word in edgewise and tell her she had the wrong person. Wow, was she embarrassed.
Since then, (and even before, but more so since then) I’m very careful about who I approach. Actually, I usually run in the other direction, which is what I’ll do today I think. After all, if I want Tyler’s autograph, I can probably wait ’til the next high school reunion.
Guess what? More snow!
I’m really amazed at how these turned out. The colour seems to depend on how much light is in the frame when I take the shot. Taken with my LG Smart Phone, through the window; these are basically pictures of where I was standing when I took the photo the other night of the icicles on my house. Taken tonight:
Inspirational Settings
There was nothing particularly appealing about Kingston, Ontario, when I first started writing my novel, The Great Dagmaru. At the time, I was traveling there weekly to attend doctor’s appointments at either Kingston General or Hotel Dieu Hospital. Two things inspired me to set my story there: one, I was familiar with the geography of the city, and two, this place:
Kingston’s Grand Trunk Railway Station – source – Wikimapia.org
I started writing my novel about a teenaged girl named Herman, who runs away from home and meets a tall dark stranger on a train. She never makes it where she is going. My initial idea for the tale included the stranger taking her to this train station – hollowed out as it is by a devastating fire – and keeping her there to serve him and his wicked magic. However, as I wrote, the character of the tall dark stranger morphed into Stephen Dagmar, a rich, gorgeous, and talented magician with a dark secret, who lives in a grand Victorian house with a turret:
Hochelaga Inn, Kingston, Ontario
which I wrote about in this post back in July: https://lindaghill.wordpress.com/2013/07/19/a-haunted-visitation/
I was lucky to be able to stay in the house I had envisioned my character living in, and as you’ll see if you read my July account, I even had the thrill of being allowed to sleep two nights in the turret room.
As I said at the beginning of this post, Kingston had no real attraction for me until my characters were born. Gradually as I traveled there for appointments I found myself enthralled with the city. I could see the places I imagined my characters would visit, and the things they would see with their own eyes. Eventually, the place began to inspire me, like a painting of a narrow pathway curving through a lush forest.
My story had a world.
Here are some pictures I took while I was there: here is the world where Stephen and Herman exist.
Next door to the Hochelaga Inn
Cross, Lake Ontario
Girl, reading by the water
Kingston Harbour
Inside the turret, Hochelaga Inn, Kingston
I have been back to Kingston since this trip to do further research. I found the spot where Stephen’s house will be situated in the story (I expropriated land from the government which currently houses the local airport – I doubt they’ll notice) and I have measured distances from there to various places my characters will visit. I’ve sat in restaurants, sipping wine with the ghosts of Stephen’s and Herman’s characters, and I’ve strolled with them along the shoreline.
One of the first things I ever read about writing fiction was that it is necessary to create a world in which your characters will live. I consider myself lucky to have found this amazing, inspirational setting for mine.
lindaghill.com 