rural Ontario wildlife

rural Ontario wildlife, originally uploaded by jill y.

A snap with a little extra snap.

Hi,

I am writing to let you know that one of your photos has
been short-listed for inclusion in the third edition of our
Schmap Dallas Guide, to be published at the end of this month.

While we offer no payment for publication, many
photographers are pleased to submit their photos, as Schmap
Guides give their work recognition and wide exposure, and
are free of charge to readers. Photos are published at a
maximum width of 150 pixels, are clearly attributed, and
link to high-resolution originals at Flickr.

Best regards,

Luke Ritchie,
Managing Editor, Schmap Guides


Well, what ya know. Here's the pic being considered..

the thing to do

When you're 4000 miles from home, it's imperative that you buy a chair.

windows

I'm surprised that it didn't spread like a delicate plague.

Those little black spots of mold that took hold underneath the girly floral patterned wallpaper. They clustered there overtime growing larger and darker and more ominous. Pretty underneath the faded blue rose florals. Ominous where the plastered paper peeled back on itself. It didn't leave the room. The little dolls with the wobbly eyes and tattered handmade dresses, dusty despite all the water jugs didn't leave either.

I'm surprised at at that.

Surprised that the stories of rooms filled to the brim, the tiny but deliberate carved and carpeted paths have only mustered a shushed whisper maybe over coffee at the local Tim Horton's. Of a graveyard for antiques, had they once been living would have filled a city. Now, just gathered in little groups of friends, waiting. Something inside the walls of the yard and brittle slatted house, that keeps the secrets from leaving. It's as if a tiny wind blows from all sides, gently keeping all those possessions inside the gate and possibly bringing more with them.

Bringing another pile of window frames, another row of bottles. Stack up the pots. We'll fill them with food one day. Chairs piled so thick it was like walking into a wooden cobweb. A giant spider sitting in the corner waiting for it's next meal is just an old dresser with the drawers open like giant hands. The gentle prairie wind blows. Bringing with it the sorrows and losses from the times of war. From the times when it was painful to loose something so much that you held on tight to it all. Just put it over there. We'll make use of it one day. Someone will need it.

The wind with its secrets keeps all the dolls from speaking. They sit staring at the little tiny black spots forming, envying the books and magazines carefully in bags.



windows, originally uploaded by onecreativesource.

bent out of shape

He takes regular everyday things and with a few tools, a bit of time, and a wryly sense of humour, turns them into something completely different. These were early favorites but there are so many more so you should go look-see.

T to the O

I don't know about this town.

Then again, what I have seen of it has been from a passenger side window or a hotel room. Kind of reminds me the big apple though.

Lots of smog.
Lot's of people.
Cool subway signs and entrances that disappear off the surface of the sidewalk.
Lots of people in cars with lots of hands on horns.
Lots of garbage piled up on street curbs.
Those quaint little kooky shops and funky neighborhoods grazing under the shadows of high rise office buildings.

Rumour has it, this weekend I'll be going to visit a farmhouse with Catherine that's neighbours with an apple orchard and is "suffering" from a near by vintage shop infestation. I'll be going with my a pocket full of "pesticide" and a camera.

jack drives away after climbing the beanstalk

jack drives away after climbing the beanstalk, originally uploaded by jill y.

IMG_3492 1.jpg, originally uploaded by jakedobkin.

misadventure

April 3, 2007 Journal entry

"It's going to be one brutal 14 hr trip to Paris. I feel like I'm in a 3rd or 4th world. Back of the bus, back pack with me. Dodgey Moroccans or slimy Czech men all around. Sweaty and the air heavy with cheap cologne. Sketchy. And there's a baby right behind my seat. At least the seat next to me is free. Paris- here I come."

When the bus started to pull away from the curb, that's when I realized I was actually on a bus headed for Romania.

beauty is in the details

beauty in the details, originally uploaded by jill y.

It's hard to make out the date on this photo but it's Friday, June 18, 2004. I was sitting out front at Joe's Cafe on Commercial Drive. I've always fancied their lattes and the effort they put into layering the coffee and milk. So esthetically pleasing, so worth photographing. I noticed this clever headline and snapped the shot.

What makes this such a memorable shot for me is the remembering the person who sat down beside me. We had met a week a so ago though mutual friends and recognized him. I remember feeling slightly put off by the constant phone calls he was making on his cell. Put off because I was waiting for the opening to say hello.

Oh brother, I remember thinking. Screw him. I was trying to not be so interested in guys. They'd brought me a bunch of trouble in the recent past and I was a bit fed up. I almost left but the opportunity came and I said hello. We chatted, I think we exchanged numbers, and I called them a week or so later. I remember feeling none to impressed but it was that phase where I was pretty much thinking 'fuck him' to any guy who crossed my path- my path of "I don't want or need you". But then this guy said something about having a degree in Art History and liking photography and suddenly there was something, something maybe in common.

Something that would open me up to the beauty in his details.

He never reads this blog because he says he hears all about the things I post anyway. Maybe I'll tell him about this and maybe I won't.

Happy 3rd year anniversary Michael. Thanks for all little details that are just between you and me.

defiantly religious

defiantly religious, originally uploaded by jill y.

Kids sure have changed since the last time I was in Alberta. You can look at the rest of my photos and see the proof that a pail of Borscht is still only $19,

Who is this man?

??, originally uploaded by revertebrate.

Somewhere out there, someone knows this creature who 's drum beats loudly for him.

Do tell, readers, do tell....

pumphouse

le house de pump, originally uploaded by jill y.

I collect photos of this little house. It's up the road from "the farm". When I was little, when we would drive by it, I hoped one day it would be mine. Like a little cottage. Of course it is was too small. But then again, so was I.

I went there today. I had a an hour with my mother's car. I always cautiously approach, thinking a skunk will run out from underneath or there will be a pack of rabid dogs waiting inside. Or I hope to find a hidden treasure. All I ever find is a couple of birds, a rusted bundle of barbedwire and a couple of dirty cans.

And another picture to the collection.

Home tomorrow morning, or rather back to Vancouver and straight back to work from the airport.

lucky me

Today I am off to the "undisputed home of Canada’s largest six-day rodeo". Immediately, I wonder where is the home of the largest 7 day rodeo? Would that be Calgary? Carstairs? How about the little town of Rosebud, Alberta?

No, I'm off to Ponoka and at least one full day of "rodeo action with the best two and four-legged rodeo athletes in the world".

side note: Actually Rosebud is famous for Alberta's only opera house and not much else. A bunch of year's ago when I lived in Calgary, my boyfriend and I would get out the map and drive to all sorts of obscure prairie Alberta towns. One day we found Rosebud and obviously because of it's quaint name, we had to go. Thinking we would find treasure and hidden gems in Mom and Pop antique stores, sit on worn wooden stools in sunny corner pop shops and stroll down beaten wooden walkways, we hit the road. Instead, we found a sleepy hamlet of dirt bikes and Ford pick-up trucks. Kid size mountain bikes leaning up against white vinyl siding houses, and a worn baseball field. The closest we came to a soda pop shop was the local post office-slash-food store-slash-dentist office. And the opera house.

Some other time, I'll tell you about the time I went to the "world famous" Okotoks roadside hootenanny.

prairie air

duo, originally uploaded by jill y.

It's dry. You can feel it almost immediatly. You realize you have been climatized to the salty dew of Vancouver without even knowing it. The altitude is diffferent in Alberta. You can't seem to get quite the same amount of air. But maybe it's because your nose and throat are drying up.

I love it though. Flat, patchwork quilts, unrecognizable until you get above them. Farmland and abandoned granaries. Wheat. Wild roses growing in ditches. Dry air and country folk. Small towns and simplicity.

I'd like to find the store that sold the paint cans called 'barn wood red'.

Maybe this trip.

without a shadow of a doubt

One of the more interesting and captivating forms of art I've seen recently- shaping garbage or objects into recognizable shadows. It's right up there with graffiti 'washed' into sooty subway walls. Of course, the idea of creating something to look like something else is not new but using different forms in unique ways is always good for a wow, look at that moment. Good or bad or even when bizarre.

a meeting

a meeting, originally uploaded by jill y.

the strongest smartest woman I know

My grandparents, Agnes and Edwin shared a 10 year age difference. I think the 1st time my grandmother saw my grandfather she was something like 12 years old when he brought the Christmas tree into her classroom. The rest is pretty much history when they married when she was 20 and they built the farm on a piece of land bought in 1945 just outside of Olds. I as well as so many others in the family are so fortunate that my grandmother has written the family history down. So, I can retrieve quotes like, "We had electricity installed in 1945 a first in rural Alberta, as Edwin wrote in his memories he signed up for Calgary Power in July of 1945, signing a cheque for $100, leaving a balance of $39 in the bank." Wow.

They built up their little farm with lots and lots of love, starting with a little 2 room house with 2 children (my mom and her brother Ron) and slowing growing, digging the basement by horse and plow, carefully planting the 'shelter belt', adding sheds for pigs and chickens, pens for cows, a garage, a barn, a big garden bigger than the size of most city house lots and eventually a bigger family.

Together they grew, endured tragedies, travelled and loved one another. My most cherished childhood memories are of my grandparents on the farm. But tragedy struck hard and took my beloved grandfather when he was only 64, when I was only 5. My grandmother could have made so many choices but the one she chose was to carry on and make the very best of life.

And that's what she did. After having spent the last 35 years as a farm wife and a mother, she went back to school. Travelling the 1hr to Calgary to take a 2-year course at SAIT, boarding during the week and then travelling home on the weekend. THEN at, 57 she got her FIRST JOB. I'm sorry, but if that doesn't make her your hero, what does?? She continued to work until retirement, but that didn't exactly stop her either.

I remember once travelling to Europe and phoning home to let my mother know I was going to Morocco on my own. I asked her if anybody else in the family had been there before. "Oh yeah, your grandmother has been there." was the response. Well my grandmother has been to the Great Wall of China, the top of the World Trade Towers in NYC, walked down Bourbon Street in New Orleans, travelled on a camel at the Great Pyramids, and seen the polar bears in Churchill. I think she's been to the 7 wonders of the world and back around again. Incidentally, I am going home at the end of June only to find she'll be off exploring Labrador!

And while she wasn't travelling, she was maintaining the farm. She stayed there for another 30 years and I had an idyllic childhood because of her. For all the other 'stuff' that was going on, there was always the farm. And it was filled with lessons in making bread and cinnamon buns. Learning to sew, to knit, and to crotchet. I had handmade dolls and sweaters, hand knitted blankets and socks, sewn quilts and lessons in making slippers. Lessons in learning to drive on country roads just like my mother and I stayed in the same room my mother grew up in. Woke up to the perfect porridge in the morning, had the creamiest shortbread the night before. Summers of wheat fields and peonies blooming in the garden, family gatherings and reunions. I have had a lifetime of more than excellent memories and lessons, and love rolled up in one perfect Grandmother.

Now, she has moved on to a new chapter. A condo in town, a gathering place downstairs, a downsizing of furniture and a new view. I know I spent all last week doing 'ode to my mom' segments but none of that would be at all possible if it hadn't been for her mom. This is Agnes. My Grandmother. The smartest, strongest, most independent, creative, courageous, travelled and wonderful person I know. She has bravely embraced all of life's adventures, took the road of strength, resilience and patience whenever she could. She is by biggest hero, my best example, and without a doubt the most beautiful woman I have ever known.

Happy Birthday Grandma, I love you very very much.

new cars on the drive

It's that time again to revel in the streets. To experience those by-gone days again when streets were boulevards full of strolling happy people rather than disguised secondary highways coursing through neighborhoods. Leave the car keys at home and come to Commercial Drive for the 2nd annual Car Free Commercial Drive Days. And if you can't make this one, there's another one next month!!

the new cars on the drive, originally uploaded by jill y.

sad 'cause she can't eat poutine

sad 'cause she can't eat poutine, originally uploaded by bess grant.

This my friend Bess' adorable baby Desiree. Bess, on the other hand, is starting her own business on how to name a photo so you bust your gut laughing.

the dress

smokin

I'm sorry for the crimpled and ratty condition of this photo. I've been sleeping with it under my pillow, gazing wistfully at it at night.

Haha. Not really.

This is my gorgeous mother at her high school graduation. My sister and I used to play dress up in the dress and those heels, which were dyed robin egg blue-to match the dress. We used to tramp down the gravel driveway of the farm in my mother's old shoes and clothes to the secondary highway and wave at people as they drove by. I'd really like to find one of those people that witnessed that spectacle.


Really, it's a godsend that dress survived and luckily I still have it. I measured the waist recently.

My mother had a 22" waist at her high school graduation.
I don't know what happened to the taira or the gloves but if I had them now, boy oh boy..

Anyway, this is the last of my 'ode to my mom' posts in celebration of her birthday this past June 6th. Thanks Mom for being:
-so gorgeous
-so smart
-so playful
-so adventurous
and
-so perfect

REALLY!

Lots of love,
me

mother's know best

I hope Mom is OK with me blogging this. It's just too wholesome not to share.

Cook brown rice as follows:

1:4 ratio of brown rice to water with a little salt in the oven at 350 degrees for 1 hour. (1 cup of rice)

Sauté some garlic and onion in olive oil, add some spinach, the cooked rice, and 1/2 can of kidney beans and a little curry powder. Enjoy for lunch all week.

Very healthy - a complete protein.

quality care aka my 500th post!

Mom, originally uploaded by jill y.

Nobody really looks like this in person, I'm guessing. I mean, I wasn't there when this was taken and I wasn't even born then, but I can't imagine this is how my mother looked in real life. It's kind of surreal how narrow her shoulders are and how she doesn't really seem to have any arms. Really, I think she looks like a mannequin from a Sears catalogue circa 1967, modeling the latest designer nurse fashions.

Ha ha. Sorry Mom, I know you'll read this.

Ok. On to more serious matters. As the ongoing ode to my mother in honor of her birthday last week, I'd like to publicly mention that my mother has her RN, BSc and MA and graduated from the University of Alberta with distinction. That means she is really really good and really really smart. And she did this while raising me and my sister and possibly my father as well (I can say that because my father doesn't read my blog.) AND she was working full time. Yes, I meant it when I said she is really really good and really really smart.

One fond memory is that my mother, who despite ALL the things she had going on, would take me and my sister (we were probably 4 & 7 years old) to Hub Mall for cheesey hot dogs after torturing us with sitting quietly at one of the University library's (she was studying for her BSc at the time). I remember all the colored shuttered doors of all the apartment windows that lined the 'mall' on both sides, and getting that cheese dog with relish. I remember her in her 70's leather trench coat with fur colar bending down to hand me the cheese dog and it was all that mattered to me. But now I know that what mattered to my mom was making sure her daughters had dinner and were happy and that she got her photocopying done.

Thank you mom. For the lifelong years of patience, making sure I was fed and happy and never letting those things keep you from doing the things that were important to you. You're the best mom to me for it.

Lots of love, Jill

snowmates

snowmates, originally uploaded by jill y.

Sometimes when I look at these old pictures of my mother, I find it hard to believe she was a rambunctious child that got covered in mud or snow. But thankfully for early photography, her inner child has been documented and I have the truth.

So thanks Mom. For being all that you are. Studious and smart in horn rimmed glasses and playful in mud and snow. Sometimes, it helps to make the rest of life make sense.

xoxo
Jill

Bonnie and Clyde

Bonnie and Clyde, originally uploaded by jill y.

That's my mom and her older brother Ronald. My grandfather was building their new house and started digging the basement in one spot. He changed his mind and moved to a new spot. The hole was filled with water and well..the rest has been documented here.

Now, my mother wouldn't dream of a mud bath.

Hi Mom!! I love you!

Jill

ode to my mom #2

To get rid of useful things when discarding inessential things, you throw the baby out with the bath water. My mother, bless her heart, has chucked the baby at least once in my life.

My mother is not sentimental for a lot of things.

She once explained the reason for this from having grown up on a farm. You see, there were always chickens getting their head's lopped off and cow's being sold to the butcher. Baby kittens and baby birds regularly fell ill and died. At some point you just don't care anymore, I guess.

Well, this unsentimentality for some things landed our household under fire every Spring. It was like the cull of random items and her sweep of the house was ruthless and unforgiving. I have been particularly tortured and traumatized by one particular clutter detox when my mother threw out a favored and adored sandal that was separated by it's mate that was safely ensconced in my room. These were no ordinary sandals. They were flat and had criss-criss leather straps over the top of your foot and then criss-crossed up your ankles. I loved them. And because I left one at the front door and one in my room, the baby was thrown out with the bath water. I think I held on to the surviving one, sleeping with it under my pillow (crying myself to sleep), hoping and praying each night that it's mate would miraculously return

But I digress for now I am blessed with the same skill and unrepentant eye to toss out the riff raff, the unused, the under appreciated quickly and swiftly to the curb or at least to the nearest thrift store. I do it now without remorse or reflection. Haven't looked at that in 6 months? GONE! And today, my possessions are dearer, more appreciated and valued. So, Mom, while I longed for my gladiator sandals, misguided that they were a ticket to my popularity or value, I thank you now for the ability to cut my losses and move on.

xoxo
Jill

By the way, my mother is 1 year old in this photo. I'm not sure why she's having a bath in a giant tin bucket but I hope it wasn't something they did all year round. It can get pretty cold in Alberta in December. Update: Apparently that giant tin bucket was the family bathtub. See my mother's comment. Now I am utterly surprised there isn't a picture floating around of my mother in hunting gear with her fresh killed dinner.

ode to my mom #1

I think my mom was so cool.

She had those horned rimmed glasses and wore sweater sets and Capri pants. And look at that skin. And those features!! I'd like to publicly thank my mother for taking the time to pass on her good genes. Because, you know if she hadn't.. well there's no telling the calamity that wouldn't have occurred had I not been born.

She also went to a high school in the country and lived on a farm and back in those days, after she was done feeding the chickens and milking the cows, she'd ride to school on one of those kind's of bikes that are so cool now because they're so retro. God, she must have been such a sight- riding down the country road with her little straw basket, packed lunch, milk in a glass bottle and those black and white shoes you always see in old movies. And just so, you know, despite her age, she is not vintage or retro and is as hip as she ever could be. However, thank god she's changed her hairstyle. That would really date her.

Thanks Mom, for being so fabulous.
xoxo Jill

eco friendly mother's rule!!

you can take the girl off the farm, originally uploaded by jill y.

just so you know, my mom looks GREAT for her age

Happy Birthday Mom!

You’ve planted all the good things
that gave our lives a start.
You’ve given lots of sunshine
and nurtured us with heart.
Now you’re taking courses
where the plant names might be tough.
With all the tests you’ve taken
you might have said “enough!”
But you made the very best grade
with not one answer wrong.
A true test of your passions
which will last a lifetime long.
We think you’re super fabulous
you’re following a dream.
You have the best ‘mom qualities’
and encourage self-esteem.
Our mother kept a garden
And hardly seemed to fuss
Hope today you feel the love
reflected back from us.

Love from the daughters!

We have a gift certificate for you at Parkland Nurseries and Garden Centre to help set up your first semi-professional garden.

Go crazy!

PS. Catherine gets the credit for being the poetic one. Stay tuned all week for the "Tribute to You" posts.

and carry a big bag

We had a glass of red wine on the Art Gallery patio. I guess it went straight to our heads. We went into the Art Gallery gift shop and in less than 5 minutes both walked out with Matt & Nat handbags. Hers is called Queen, which is ironically very fitting.

And before anybody thinks that a small herd of cattle were sacrificed for our wanton fashion pleasures, these beauties are made of synthetic leathers and they are entirely vegan.

So there.

fashion disaffectation

Disaffectation, originally uploaded by jill y.

take off your top hat and gloves

top hat and gloves, originally uploaded by jill y.

I got an email today saying the Hat was closing. The Hat, as was generally known, was the longest operating restaurant in Edmonton, having opened its art deco door in 1912. According to this, it was also the longest cafe in Alberta. And I believe it having schlepped burgers and milkshakes there for a while. I wish I had a good shot of the inside. It went straight back. Booths lined the wall each with a little juke box. Back then they also had all these original old movie posters that they restaurant would get from the Paramount theatre next door. I bet it was really something something back in the 40's and 50's. Go see a flick at the Paramount and then grab a booth at the Hat. Jeannie was the tea leaf reader for probably 20 years. And that was the thing to do: Go to the Hat and have a plate of fries and get your leaves read.

I was a waitress there when I was about 19 or 20. I had the back 20 booths or so. It was dive. A real sketchy sketcherama. I remember these insanely steep stairs that went down into the basement where the bathrooms were. No amount of scrubbing would ever get that place clean. Even the spoons were greasy but people ate there all the time. Regulars would come in for coffee. Punk and teenagers sharing plates of fries and ketchup. Breakfast was served all day. I'll never forget the time I ate a burger on my break and ended up in the hospital a week later with E-Coli bacteria. I got fired for being "unreliable" because I had been sedated with Demerol, close to death and unable to call in.

I used to know these 2 guys that would come in and have fried egg sandwiches and a side of pancakes every Saturday. Once they wrote me a poem on a napkin as a tip. I kept it all these years:

Ode to the Hat

Haven, sweet haven
this chicken tastes like raven.
And the soup, oh the soup
such a swill, I am craving'.
Pour me a coffee.
Cut me a pie.
Fill my troph in this sty.
Let the music fill my heart
as I vomit up a tart.
No, but really we just jest
for in our eternal restaurant quest
for fine cuisine and service best:
We found a place our soul may rest.
But that was never so before,
this place pack then was such a bore.
A dreary luncheon it sure was
and that is so because because
there wasn't Jill and her cute fuzz
Oh, such a girly there never was.
Thank you Silk, for your warm magnesium milk.

Kisses, Brett and Geoff

and on the back:

In a world that can do nothing but hurt,
these pancakes will exist with a quick squirt.

That pretty much sums it up. So long Silk Hat.

travel plans

transportation, originally uploaded by jill y.

I'd like to start June off by saying my legs really hurt. Today I woke up to find they had been reconstructed out of Popsicle sticks and rocks. Very inflexible and heavy. However, according to my commute logs on The Bike to Work website, I have travelled 64.63 km this week. So, I'll try to ignore the fact that my joints feel like they've been glued shut.

Wish list: a pair of cyling gloves to ward off the gallons of sweat pouring out between my fingers and the useless attempts to wipe them off on my shorts.

tiny worlds

tiny worlds, originally uploaded by jill y.

knick knack

I promise to never to this to Ruby.

Speaking of taxidermy, I almost rode over squirrel roadkill on the way home. Another gem or a reason why i should avoid the bus as much as possible. You never know what you're going to see.

An that leads me to my other point.. you should always be a faithful visitor to More Kisses Please because you never know what you're going to read..

switched

Mom: If you want to come and stay that would be awesome.

Me: I can't believe you used the word 'awesome'.

Mom: So what is strange about the work "awesome". Is it old fashioned???

Um, no, not exactly. I would just have felt like I was talking to my mother if you had said 'wonderful' or 'great'. Awesome is just a lingo that seemed reserved for pals, friends, or..kids. I just got this awesome glimpse of how as we get older, you get hipper and I get more formal. At least there's hope for me as don't 'they' say you eventually turn into your parents??

2 wheels will travel

Some thoughts and reflections on the the first full on bike to work.

• I passed a Hasidic Jew riding a bike going in the other direction. What the hell? I doubt I would have ever seen that on the bus. It was a scene from a movie and the set almost looked like Brooklyn.
  
• I travelled through neighborhood streets I have never seen before. Definitely not.
  
• I got sore muscles but the day's stress was gone.
• Mr. Man with the backpack didn't hit me in the side of the head.
• I didn't have to wait at the side of the freeway on Marine Drive and wait for the shitty 100 Bus, all the while breathing in exhaust fumes.
• I didn't get to wear jeans to work.
• I didn't have to seethe in anger over why people refuse to move to the back of the bus as you stand packed like lemmings at the front.
• I loved all the trees and flowers bushes and shaded paths.
• Riding in special lanes kept especially for bikes felt cool.
• I didn't have to stand and grip a handrail, bracing myself whenever the bus screamed to a halt.
• Riding over speedbumps is funner on a bike.
• I passed 4 idling cars and realized it's my new frustration instead of screaming in my head, "Move to the back of the bus people!'
  
• I got trapped in a cemetery and thought about the days I spent in the Paris cemeteries. In contrast the Paris ones are crammed, crowded and infinitely more interesting. We are so under populated in North America (except for the buses).
• I got to work faster than taking the bus.
  

Catherine

Please reread the instructions. You are not 'annonymous'.

xoxo
Picky

Not your birthday present, Sonia.

I have to shake my head at the glory horror of Doug and Randy bobble headed hunters bouncing along as a deer that has been hog tied to the hood of a jeep sings 'Sweet Home Alabama'. I mean I didn't even think that would be possible with a bullet through the neck, would you? Not to mention, its a 'great gift for your favorite hunter' (I mean I have so many to choose from) 'or anyone'. I can't imagine how I would decide who I would give this too. It bobbles, bounces AND flashes!!

"This motion-activated deer lifts his head and sings “Low Rider” and “Sweet Home Alabama”! Watch the hunters BOBBLE their heads to the beat as the car BOUNCES and headlights FLASH!! A great gift for your favorite hunter, or anyone! Requires 4 AA batteries (included)."

Happy Birthday Sonia

in my bathtub, originally uploaded by jill y.

For your birthday today, I rode my bike to work in tribute to the many countless hours you have spent fearlessly getting your cardio rate up.

I'm posting this picture because it's my favorite from the recent trip to the Aquarium but more importantly, it symbolizes to me the some of the things I think about you.

Like the way you walk. You kind of drift. I think it has to do with the music you listen to which is always something different than what I've heard of.

Or the way your fingers are like tentacles, reaching out and sticking your fingers into all sorts of things. (Like the pizza we gouged on the other day- HA).

And like the jellyfish, you are beautiful, mysterious, exotic and deadly when crossed wrong.

Not to mention, that when looking closer at this picture, there is a warm yellow glowing center. This represents your heart and how warm and inviting it is. Like a big egg yolk on Sunday morning when you are famished and everything is PERFECT and it's delicious.

Thank you for being my lovely friend. Happy happy birthday.

xoxo
Jill

Bess let me hold her perfect little baby

jill and bub, originally uploaded by bess grant.

I took a bunch of photos of little Desiree, too.

An adventure in aquatics

One rainy Saturday, Michael and I went to the Vancouver Aquarium. Never again. That sort of activity should be reserved for playing hooky from work on Wednesday's when NO ONE is there. I did have a lot of fun at the jelly fish tank though and I got a good snap of some alligators. Check it out:

Straight

Straight, originally uploaded by jill y.

I saw this guy sleeping on his bike this morning. I couldn't help but snap this.

my friend Sonia finds the best videos

my laptop crashed again

Dear Tech Support:
Last year I upgraded from Boyfriend 5.0 to Husband 1.0 and noticed a distinct slow down in overall system performance -- Particularly in the flower and jewelry applications, which operated flawlessly under Boyfriend 5.0. In addition, Husband 1.0 uninstalled many other valuable programs, such as Romance 9.5 and Personal Attention 6.5 and then installed undesirable programs such as NFL 5.0, NBA 3.0, and Golf Clubs 4.1. Conversation 8.0 no longer runs, and Housecleaning 2.6 simply crashes the system.

I've tried running Nagging 5.3 to fix these problems, but to no avail. What can I do?
Signed, Desperate

Dear Desperate:
First keep in mind, Boyfriend 5.0 is an Entertainment Package, While Husband 1.0 is an Operating System. Please enter the command: 'http: I Thought You Loved Me.HTML' and try to download Tears 6.2 and don't forget to install the Guilt 3.0 update. If that application works as designed, Husband 1.0 should then automatically run the applications Jewelry 2.0 and Flowers 3.5. But remember, overuse of the above application can cause Husband 1.0 to default to Grumpy Silence 2.5, Happy Hour 7.0 or Beer 6.1. Beer 6.1 is a very bad program that will download the Snoring Loudly Beta.

Whatever you do, DO NOT install Mother-in-law 1.0 (it runs a virus in the background that will eventually seize control of all your system resources). Also, do not attempt to reinstall the Boyfriend 5.0 program. These are unsupported applications and will crash Husband 1.0. In summary, Husband 1.0 is a great program, but it does have limited memory and cannot learn new applications quickly. You might consider buying additional software to improve memory and performance. We recommend Food 3.0 and Hot Lingerie 7.7.

Good Luck,
Tech Support

prize for the best comment

"I love how every Nickleback song sounds EXACTLY the same.

I also really love Chad Kroeger's great sense of style, and ultra sexy haircut. It really turns me on.

Where can I find a Kroeger for myself???

Oh yeah - on the 99B - Line.

Jill, thanks for the tip."

-Sonia

to avoid any confusion....

The shop where I bought my new bike is swapping parts from one frame to the frame I bought. Therefore, my foray into bicycle commuting does not start until the boyfriend drops me off on Saturday and we race back. Me on my bike, him in his truck. On Sunday, I do a trial run and see how far I go. I don't seriously think I can just start riding 20k a day out of no where and not hurt myself.

Thus, I was on the bus yesterday. And likely will be again because the buses in Vancouver have bike racks!!

no one cares if a rock star rides the bus

I swear to god Chad Kroeger from Nickleback got on the 99 B-Line at Main and Broadway today. He got on with some other guy that I couldn't see because Mr. Nickleback is 9 feet tall. He was wearing the usual "I'm a rock star" uniform and seemed to be looking around for the non existent clicks of cell phone cameras going off.


He got off on Broadway and Commercial. Obviously, he was looking for drugs because in this shot he's clearly wearing a Blunt Brothers tshirt and everyone knows Blunt Brothers is where you go in Vancouver to kit yourself to smoke pot. I think the trajectory is obvious, don't you?

The bus has really been getting to me.

Me: Hi Mom. I bought a bike (the one pictured!!) with the inheritance you gave me.

Mom: Did you buy a helmet too?

Yes I did. And a lock, and a set of fenders and a bike rack and at the end of it all, I told the man behind the counter if he through in a water bottle and holder, it was a deal. I also made the boyfriend promise that we would cycle Stanley Park regularly this summer.

All this is just in time for the Bike to Work Week. Wish me luck. It's a 10km commute each way. By the way, if you can't tell, it's a Brodie Infinity and I got a sweet deal because I chose a less expensive bike and the shop agreeed to swap the parts from that bike on to the lighter and better Infinity frame. At 1/2 hr to close, I also got them to cut a deal on the fenders, rack, and helmet. They threw in a water bottle and holder for free.

PS Mom: I love the color.
PPS: Brodie Bikes were created in Vancouver. Gotta support the local shops, right?
PPPS A Certain Jane: I get the bike on Saturday May 25 and bike to work week starts on Monday the 28.

Spencer Tunick nude photo shoot

Spencer Tunick nude photo shoot, originally uploaded by SaintsAsylum.

Spencer Tunick is the artist that gets all those naked people together for photographs. You know the ones. You think to yourself, "Mmn..looks like fun." Why don't you sign up for the next project in Amsterdam? I think he should do one of people shopping on Robson Street but it would probably do better on Rodeo Drive. Here's one he did in Brugge, of which I have just visited:

shoes really do make the outfit, don't they

Please check out this incredible shoe museum.

menagerie

menagerie, originally uploaded by smoooch.

Brugge, Belgium

IMGP5744, originally uploaded by smoooch.

accidents happen

The whole series is of "accidents" is totally hilarious. Of course you will find a way to have a stuffed lion with an arm in it's mouth. And Patricia Waller is a crafty genius. While having a crocheted chicken would make a great centerpiece at Thanksgiving, I'm not sure about the decapitation in yarn.

Or maybe it would.

At that view, the world seemed like a different place.

the world seemed like a different place, originally uploaded by smoooch.

childhood memory

Whenever anyone mentions the phrase "running around like a chicken without its head" I instantly remember an early childhood experience.

I was a little girl, maybe 3-4 years old. My parents used to take me down to Olds where my grandparents had a farm. In the shelter belt tree line, they had a small wooden shed equipped with hooks and a small chopping block. This was where they beheaded the chickens. One of my earliest memories is standing in the white and freshly fallen snow. My hand knit mitts probably damp and frosty from playing in it. I had a one piece snowsuit. I think it was red and it had some sort of fluff trimmed hood and zipped up with a thick zipper and I had these little snow boots that were silver. I was standing there in the snow white snow in my little snowsuit and boots watching with slight curiosity and probably a little horror as my grandfather decisively swung the ax and hung the chickens to drain from the hooks. As I try and remember this early experience, I think back and see the trees standing tall and dark against the snow, the blur of adults around, standing there cold like my mittens against the site of a chicken or two running in circles without its head, the others caught and draining. White snow spashed red like my snowsuit.

my mom taught me how to cook

Mom also taught me:

how to sew, and thus I made curtains last night
to keep my room clean and I still do to this day
to save my money for a rainy day and pay my bills on time and now having savings rocks
tough lessons so I would be resilient and responsible for myself
the value of myself that exists beyond anything I may do or accomplish

Thanks Mom. You've taught me so much more and mean so much more than I could write here, so instead, I'll share the soup recipe I made for lunch today. I steamed some broccoli to add to it after it was finished since I didn't have any cilantro. Oh, yeah, you helped to develop my ability to think creatively.

Coconut Curry Red Lentil Soup

Taken from La Dolce Vegan, pg 106

1 small onion, chopped
1 tbsp olive oil
1-2 garlic cloves, chopped
1-2 celery stalk, cubed
1-2 sm potatoes, cubed
1 sm yam/sweet potato cubed
2 cups vegetable stock
1/2 cup dried red lentil
1 tbsp curry paste
1/2 tsp salt
1/2 tep ground black pepper
1- 14 oz can coconut milk
1/4 cup fresh cilantro

In a medium sauce pan on medium heat, saute onion in oil until translucent. add garlic and celery and saute for another 5 minutes. Add yams, potatoes, stock, lentils, curry paste, salt & pepper. Bring to a boil then reduce heat. simmer for 15-20 minutes or until the potatoes are cooked. Stir in coconut milk and with a hand blender or food processor, blend half or all of the soup until smooth. Return to pot, stir in cilantro and serve. Makes 2 large or 4 small servings.

fat fatter fatest

gold shares or groceries

My family recently inherited some money from my Great Great Uncle Alf.

I guess iy goes that my Great Great Great Grandfather immigrated to America after doing his duty with old hand in the jacket Napoleon's and his army in France. His son, my Great Great Grandfather was Alf's father. As a wee bairn, poor Alf was forced to travel across the American west in a wagon train with his parents (his dad was the wagon master) and older siblings (Grapes of Wrath comes to mind here). The family finally settled in Colorado where my Great Grandmother, Joyce and her twin sister, Josephine (clever names for twins), were born. Of course my Great Grandmother eventually married and gave birth to my mother's father and they moved to Canada when my grandfather a year old.

Old Uncle Alf homesteaded in Alaska and prospected for gold. As far as we know he never found much and apparently he also married a local lass when she was only 15. He did, however, leave his homestead. About 20 years ago his nephew (Josephine's son) started to work on proving that the family were entitled to Alf's estate. Now, all these years later it is settled.

Much more effort was spent splitting up the inheritance but at the end of the day I received $800 from this incredible part of my ancestry. I mean this dates back to the 1800's.

When my mother gave it to me she wrote, "So - no strings attached - enjoy - buy gold shares or groceries."

What do you call a woman with no arms and one leg?

, originally uploaded by kk+.

Peggy.