oldog

25-ish

So recently I spent some time at the top of Mont Tremblant searching for shooting stars. Over the course of 4 days (or nights to be more precise) I managed to see 25, I think.

If you've ever seen a shooting star you'll know why I say "I think". The first one you see is usually an "I think", as in, I think I just saw one!After you've seen a couple in a row you are usually more sure of yourself.

This was a new shared experience. Yes, it was really interesting to share with amateur astronomers who brought their telescopes and laser pointers to aid the uninitiated.

Astronomy is one of those things that I have a hard time wrapping my head around. Maybe it's because the numbers are so large that it's difficult for me to relate it to anything; maybe it's the concept that something I can see right now may not even exist anymore, maybe it's both. But I can sit still for a period of time and gaze into the night sky and count up to at least 25 -- and even more if I get the chance to!

This shared experience also had a bit of a downside too. When you are stargazing alone, or with one or two close friends or family members, it's exciting to shout out "I saw one! Did you see it?". Totally different when you are watching with hundreds and there is a awe-inspired gasp from the crowd... and you missed it.

Watching shooting stars with your significant other is also really neat; and when you happen to catch the same star falling at the same time, well it's almost like reaching the summit together (if you catch my meaning). Note to self: next shooting star, remember to wish :)

As I promised myself yesterday, I would try and post daily, with a pic. The photo today is from the first evening at the top of Tremblant, just as the sun was going down.

the more things change...

the more they stay the same. A pretty popular adage. My own, of course, is -- things don't get better they just get different. Which was my conclusion after raising two teenagers.

After reading my daughter's blog today I had to laugh thinking of the many times I went off in search of my own dog (a Great Pyrenees named Skye). I maintained that she was Houdini incarnate -- how else could she have escaped a locked crate? And it was still locked when we arrived home to find her romping around upstairs! So I'm quite familiar with magic dogs. The more things...

After four years of being away from home my daughter has a blog and I am able to keep abreast of what she is up to. I used to worry about my daughter when she first went to the U.S. for school, now I just renew my Prozac prescription. Things don't get better...

if you can't say anything nice...

don't say anything at all.

A good motto to live by, thus the reason for my not posting yesterday. As a friend once remarked, "I have a huge hate on for that". Yesterday I had a huge and uncomfortable (I heard that they can be if they last too long) hate on. So without further adieu, and so as not to get into a shit slinging session I will make mention of the book I am reading... A Year in Provence.

It's probably one of those books that you've heard the title of before -- at least I have -- but wondered what the bruhaha was about. Yesterday on my way home, in order to forcibly drag myself from the self-imposed angry and bitter state (not without reason mind you), I pulled the book from my heavier-than-I-would-like backpack.

ah yes, Provence.

I'm glad I waited until I had actually been to Provence before reading it. It quickly took me back to sunnier, happier days -- days that were filled with laughter and adventure, instead of rage and resentment. A welcome antidote for my seething spirit.

I could envision almost everything that was mentioned so far, and longed to be back (perhaps the impetus behind my listening to my "learn to speak French even though you're an absolute loser linguistically" CDs. If they work I'll be sure to let fellow losers know.

I would like to mention some extremely excitable exclamations about my new PC, however I have not feasted mine own eyes upon it as of yet; I merely know that it has been delivered due to the wonders of the web (I checked the Purolator tracking site).

Alas, you guessed it, it is a Dell, but it is one of the few remaining altars of Windows XP that I can worship at. If you're like my daughter (check out her wonderful blog) you are probably muttering... helllloooooo get a mac! My response... Macs remind me of blondes (no offense to my flaxen friends) -- they are sexy, but good for only a few things. Not to mention I don't have the multitudes of money required to switch all my existing software to run on another platform. ARGH!

I feel a rant regarding our disposable society coming on, so must go because that will definitely lead to me saying something that isn't nice.

on crappy weather days

I am grateful that I can ride on the TTC, and enjoy it even, rather than waste time and energy driving to work.