Another wonderful pancake day has come and gone, this year with a little dinner party at my place yesterday to mark the occasion. The real official pancake day might have been February 20th, but I say it’s always an appropriate time for a pancake party. One highlight of the evening—

While everybody else was in the other room, we heard from the kitchen:
*FRPLOP!*
*SPLASH!*
And Shelagh screaming, “I got it open!”

I’ve learned my lesson. I need to buy a corkscrew.

Nay, I say my mom is cool! Yes, that’s my mom there on the right, volunteering at Arty Gras, a fundraising event for the Saint John Arts Center. She’s got the best mask out of everybody, I dare say.

A cold February winter afternoon, a rich cup of hot chocolate, 70% pure like all respectable chocolate should be, and good company made for a nice afternoon today.

How have I not known about this place before? And now, how can I have hot chocolate anywhere else? Certaintly the brown water at Tim Horton’s will no longer suffice. The traditional grandma’s style chocolate in front of me was thick and beautiful, and enough of it to make for a full meal in itself. It was probably wise we didn’t also order the chocolate fondue to snack on along with it, as tempting as it was. Next time, mon chéri.

It’s always good to catch up with old friends, although at times errily reminiscent of that line from Before Sunset:

It’s funny. Every single of my ex’s—they’re now married. Men go out with me, we break up, and then they get married. And later they call me to thank me for teaching them what love is and that I taught them to care and respect women. I want to kill them!

But it turned out just to be one of those things lost in translation, across languages and cultures both. It’s unavoidable at times. (There was also no appropriate translation for how rich the drink was.) Natsukashikatta ne! I had forgotten how fun it is to have loud inappropriate conversations in public places, hoping nobody around happens to understand the language.

A recent post on ni.vu.ni.connu about a recent post on The DEWLiner’s Art Blog about an intersection of Scully Way and Mulder Ave in Ontario reminded me of a similar place here in Montreal.

When I lived in Verdun, my regular bus took me through this intersection. If I still took that bus, I might be tempted to go out and take a picture, but for now I’ll just settle on a screenshot from Google Maps. I know the intersection of Duke and Wellington may not be exactly on target, but it’s a pretty good hit for the famous jazz musician.

It don’t mean a thing
If it ain’t got that swing
Doo-wat doo-wat, doo-wat doo-wat
It don’t mean a thing
All you got to do is sing
Doo-wat doo-wat, doo-wat doo-wat
Doo-wat doo-wat, doo-wat doo-wat

A year and three months later I’m starting to put a little artistic effort into decorating my apartment. Ten points to anybody who can figure out what this is supposed to be! That’s right, my art means something. In fact it even looks like what it’s supposed to look like in two ways, which I think is pretty cool, but I’m a big geek like that.

Hint: You biology or biochem types are definitely familiar with it, and quite possibly even in the way it’s displayed, in an abstract kind of way of course.

An entire package of bacon? Sounds good to me!

Well, maybe just a couple pieces chopped up for my caesar salad. The point is that I can cook an entire package of bacon at once, and that’s something worth bragging about. (The rest are being frozen for later.) Or, if you prefer, I could do a batch of pancakes or six grilled cheese sandwiches.

Christmas is awesome.

Imagine my surprise when I pulled into the driveway after four months away to find that a small village of Inuit had been camping on my lawn, leaving an inukshuk so that we would remember that they had been there. At least, its presence meant either that or acted as proof that my dad really is retired.

This is a sturdy construction too, built to withstand the neighbourhood kids with cement and steel reinforcements and everything. He stands at the front of our yard on the small rock cliff and, at least at 4 in the afternoon in December, with the sun at his back. I think it’s nice place for him.

I have to say, I’m very happy with my investement in a string of Christmas lights. They light up my apartment pretty nicely all on their own, and they make me happy. It kind of makes me want to go back to Zellers and buy three or four more strings to put around everywhere.

Alas I don’t think the budget can support it. At some point my place would probably start to look like some kind of 60’s psychedelic love pad… not that that’s a bad thing, of course.

December 1st, and the first snow is on the ground. How perfect is that? Sure, after an afternoon and evening of freezing rain and cold and wind, it’s not as really the kind of winter weather you’d write songs about, but it’s getting there.

And of course now that it’s December I’m allowed to start playing my Christmas music and put up the decorations. Until today I didn’t even own any decorations, but now thanks to cashing in some Aeroplan points I got a string of LED lights for free at Zellers, with enough left over to get the DVD of one of the best Christmas Movies ever: The Muppet Christmas Carol.

Ebenezer Scrooge: Bob Cratchit, I’ve had my fill of this.
Miss Piggy: And I have had my fill of you, Mr. Scrooge!
Ebenezer Scrooge: And therefore, Bob Cratchit…
Miss Piggy: And therefore, you can leave this house at once!
Ebenezer Scrooge: I’m about to raise your salary.
Miss Piggy: Ooh, and I am about to raise you right off the pavement…

Alastair Sim’s got nothing on the Muppet gang.

Someone told me the other day that I look like a sensitive person. I don’t know what exactly a sensitive person looks like, but apparently something a bit like me. This got me to thinking about the saddest books or movies and such that I’ve run into and so I thought I might write a blog called

Things That Made Me Cry

but it turns out I couldn’t really think of anything. At least, not a “Meghan Salter within the first ten minutes of watching Titanic for the second time” kind of bawling my eyes out. But for the few things that have at least come close I thought I’d give props in testimony of their weight.

(1) Rama Revealed
This is the last in a sequence of four books, the first of which is Rendezvous with Rama, by Arthur C. Clarke. The latter three books were written largely by Gentry Lee with input from Clarke, and haven’t been as critically acclaimed. But then again, I generally don’t like Clarke’s work, and I actually preferred the later three installments. With much more focus on characterisation, the last novel brings together all the loose ends of entire lives and for that reason was quite moving. It’s been years since I read them, though, so I can only hope that they stand the test of time.

(2) The Iron Giant
I actually just finished watching this now. It’s an animated film set in a small American town during the early years of the Cold War, where people were faced with the dawn of the space age and told that duck-and-cover was enough to save them from a nuclear bomb. Though a bit cliche at times, it is generally quite entertaining (my sister and I both enjoy it a lot) and the climatic scenes are very well done—”Where’s the giant, Mansley?”

(3) Change of Address
Anybody who knows me well knows that I’m a sucker for the last of anything, in particular television series. Of course when a series finale doesn’t live up it’s a huge disappointment (Seinfeld, Friends, and Will and Grace are all examples of that), but Fraggle Rock pulled it off better than any other show that comes to mind. Though a kids show, it never shied away from some heavy topics—death, war, racism—and provided a philosophy for kids that, as Jim Henson said, was meant to bring peace to the world. This final episode gave the show closure (rare as it is in childrens’ television) and also a piece of wisdom that I still keep in mind today: You cannot leave the magic.

Now of course I won’t guarantee that anybody else will think of these in the same way that I do. They’re all the type of thing that I know is a bit off or quirky in the back of my head, but to me that makes them just that much more important.