I thought of dad again today.
And if not, why not?
There’s that word again, Mr. Wolfe. Are you just messing with me now?
(p. 68 in The Wizard, by Gene Wolfe)
My sister in Winnipeg texted me yesterday, on Easter Sunday, to show me what I’ve wrought in her household. My nephew C. took inspiration from my habit of messing with their text sign, and wants to wish one and all a HAPPER YEAST.
Below are some examples of my work over the last couple years. So… am I a bad influence, or the best influence?
It was clear and reasonably warm last night, and there was a reasonable chance of getting some aurora Borealis, so I headed to my usual spot about fifteen minutes out of town. I got my tripod set up, and retired to the warmth of the car—the temperature was only ‑10°C or so, but the windchill was significant, a south wind howling along at what felt like about 40–50 km/h—and listened to music for a while.
After about ten or fifteen minutes, I noticed that I couldn’t see the little red light on my camera anymore. I briefly wondered if maybe the battery had died, but then I realized that I also couldn’t see the thin dark lines of the tripod.
Sure enough, the wind had tipped it over into the snow. See the photo below, which is the ten-second window when it actually fell.
I cleaned the lens off as best I could, then packed it all up and headed home, where I gave the lens a more thorough cleaning and then set it aside to dry. This morning it looks OK, so I think I got away lucky.
To whoever left this on the sidewalk in front of Hairistocracy, thank you for brightening my morning.
They must feel safe now that Thanksgiving¹ has passed.
¹ Canadian Thanksgiving.
Strong opinion time: The Wrong Trousers, whose chase scene is presented here, is the best heist movie ever made.
It’s probably not even bad advice.