Hi, I’m Alexandra, a tea drinking humanoid with an over active imagination. When not scribbling on random bits of paper, or doodling in my journal, I capture my thoughts with a butterfly net, stuff them into tiny glass jars with brass lids, and store them on dusty shelves in various corners of my mind till I’m ready to share them with the rest of the world.
𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧
I’m walking round like a lost zombie with a box of puff tissues wedged beneath my arm like that might save me from my headcold woes …
Somehow I managed to acquire a head cold (no I’m not looking at you, Richard, in Scotland.) I think maybe the OH brought it home last week when they had a BIG boss meeting with several head honchos in attendance where they had to go into the meeting unmasked (as advised by the DG).
I woke up this morning with the mother of all headaches and popped a couple of Tylenol, not me usually. But with the scratchy sore throat, and congested nose, whatelse could this be? Hopefully, nothing more series.
I’m off to the couch for the rest of the day with the hot water bottle and a round of tennis.
𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧
I live in the land of snow and ice.
It’s a fact.
Winter’s last almost 7 months here in the Frozen North. Let that sink in: SEVEN months. It usually starts in October, with snow falling usually about 2 weeks before Halloween. We’ve had a full on snow storm prior to Halloween that has meant kids going out in the snow to trick or treat. And yet, we don’t live that far north, not really, but we are on a huge continent that sits just beneath the Artic circle.
That means, most of Canada experiences long draw out winters, with the joke here being there are, in fact, only 2 seasons: winter and July. You get the picture. And it’s true, I’ve experienced it for over 25 years. Spring and autumn last approximately 2 weeks when we slip from winter to July and back again. Those two short transition periods being mild and benign and amazingly transformative.
All this to explain just how many words we have up here for snow and snow conditions. I can’t remember if I was told this or read it somewhere, but the number was 50+. And, you know what, I can believe it. It’s snowing now. But it’s a crystalline snow. Ice crystals that form in the air from what little moisture there is because the temperature at a certain level create the perfect conditions.
I’m currrently watching these teeny tiny snowflakes right now being buffeted around on the wind. Dancing a crazy dance out there. I don’t know how long they will last knowing they won’t stick. Too fragile and not enough of them. But it is fascinating to watch them and even more so, to catch them in a gloved hand and watch them melt.
Tiny perfect snow crystals each one different and distinct. And, just like that, they’re gone.
𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧
Today’s live entertainment: watching two squirrels chase one another through the snow. Fighting over buried seeds I guess. And no, no photos those damn things move too fast!
I’m waiting on Maintenance arriving to fix the thermostat in our home office. It’s stuck on at 30 degrees and no amount of twirling the dial will make it switch off. Which is fine when no one is working in said office like, the OH, but yesterday they sat on a 2 hour conference call wearing a summer tee shirt and shorts. Though it’s true, no one saw the shorts.
Of course, office hours for Maintenance is 8am to 1pm. So yeah, of course they’ll turn up at 2 minutes to 1, stay exactly long enough to say, “Oh, I need x, y, z, part…” and then, vanish for another hour or three or turn up tomorrow with said part that doesn’t fit..
At least it’s not cold in the apartment!
After two days of howling gales and snow, it’s time to dig out and yes, of course me and mine have an appointment this afternoon at the optician. But hey, at least I don’t have to shovel snow off the roof …
The wind is howling crazy outside, and blowing the snow horrizontally. It’s wild but, it’s also as pretty as hell, everywhere is frosted and white.
Alex is wearing: a white tee shirt, black jumper, blue jeans, white socks Alex is feeling: happy Alex is listening to: Surfacing by Sarah McLachlan Alex is playing: Hay Day Alex is watching: Tennis
Alex has had enough of talking about herself in the third person …
This post is happily stolen from Keenan who lovingly stole it from Katherine who probably stole it from someone else. And so it goes … steal this one if you want to take part!
With the windchill, it was a brisk MINUS 32 outside this morning. It’s now risen to an almost balmy MINUS 28.
At least the sun’s shining in a clear blue sky …
What is it with tennis players these dyas that they have to grunt on every play regardless of whether they’re male or female. They all sound like they’re trying to give birth to a cow!
#tennispetpeeves
Following in Thomas Rigby’s footsteps, I thought about some of the stuff I own, and just how old some of it is. There’s a lot, especially my cameras which are about 28 years old. But really old? Hmm…
Let’s see:
I’m sure I have a lot more than this but I’ll just stick to these top five for now. And you, what’s the oldest thing you own?
As with book one in this series from Robert Jackson Bennett, A Drop Of Corruption is an action-packed adventure come murder mystery, and fantastical exploration of a magical world that sees our erstwhile heroes, Dinios Kol and brilliantly eccentric Ana Dolabra, doing what they do best. Sifting through the clues however confounding and tedious a job, to catch a brilliantly clever killer.
This time around, Din and Ana are far away from all they know in Yarrowdale, a territory outside of the Empire. But one on the cusp of joining the Empire. That is, till a high ranking officer of the Treasury delegation leading the negotiations with the King is murdered. A murder that necessitates Ana’s sharp mind and Din’s formidable skill, as an engraver, at committing every last detail to memory.
Untangling a plot that has lies and corruption at every twisted turn, Ana and Din are in a race to find a killer and get to the heart of a mystery with so many layers and misdirects, you may be forgiven for feeling bewildered. But thankfully we have Din and Ana, the Empire, and all the checks and balances we wish existed in our own world.
“This work can never satisfy, Din, for it can never finish. The dead cannot be restored. Vice and bribery will never be totally banished from the cantons. And the drop of corruption that lies within every society shall always persist. The duty of the Iudex is not to boldly vanquish it but to manage it. We keep the stain from spreading, yes, but it is never gone. Yet this job is perhaps the most important in all the Iyalets, for without it, well … The Empire would come to look much like Yarrow, where the powerful and the cruel prevail without check. And tell me—does that realm look capable of fighting off a leviathan?”
A wonderfully complex murder and political mystery that flies along through a few hundred pages without ever missing a beat, without ever dragging or rushing, paced perfectly and with constant tension and high stakes and the satisfying feeling you get when you read a story that’s plotted and executed with confident mastery.
Bravo Mister Bennett, I cannot wait for book three, A Trade of Blood, coming out in June, to see where you take us next.
𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧
Hollie was talking this morning about using Apple’s TextEdit to write all her notes in and it reminded me that one February, when the weather was particular horrendous, I sat at my Mac and wrote an entire 80,000 word novel in less than 6 weeks.
Yes, in text edit. It was a very liberating exercise in just writing. Pounding away on the keys without thinking about style or editing. Literally letting the words pour out of me. Of course, I later imported the edited text into Scrivener to make it look more like a novel. But only after. It’s such a clean way of writing.
#TextEditforever!
The reason I had such a wonderful meal out yesterday evening was the fact I had a doctors appointment. It was a follow up after my blood tests to discuss the result and then, what to do next.
Me and mine were celebrating, of sorts, as the news was nothing but good news from said doctor. He’d asked for a full panal of tests all of which came back really good. Well, all except my cholesterol. Which is no surprise, though it’s still the same it’s been for over a decade. I have no idea what the numbers mean, but am not too worried given everything else was healthy and normal.
And yes, while I will have another follow up blood test at the end of February, the doctor seems confident the numbers will hold steady based on my current exercise routine and the new adjustments to my diet.
All except us eating out last night, that is. I went with the restaurant’s version of a Philly steak sandwich with jus, housemade mayo and fries. Oh, and because I’m me, a Shirley Temple. I felt giddy enough to feel 8 years old again. Even for just a minute.
Let’s hope this year is going to be a better year.
The wind was blowing crazy fierce this weekend, so much so, it blew the snow into interesting sculptures.
Happy Cat has come over all pink …
It’s not that I’ve been thinking about death, even though, last year, I had another brush with death — waving at Him on the sidelines of my own personal battlefield. But Death has a way of following us around once we reach (a) a certain age or (b) have that close encounter with Him. He’s just there over our left shoulder, lurking.
For now, He’s mildly passive but, we all know, who know, that this state of being can change, and change in a fraction of a second. A mere heartbeat, and it can all be over. Death being there to catch us as the light winks out.
What started me thinking about Him, again, is talk of wills and notaries and the Other Half having had a fright of their own: the possible loss of me. And here we are, talking about what we want to happen to what’s left of us when we pass to that other realm, that supposed realm of Darkness. Though I prefer to think of it as the realm of light. But of course, we’ll never know till we arrive which state it will be and then, given no one on the other side has ever let us know, we are, as they say, in the dark till that final moment of seeing the light.
But all jesting aside, the OH has been talking almost nonstop about us getting our affairs organised. Not that I own anything of great value. But needs must, as they say. And so, the OH has set up an appointment with a Notary to start the process which, I understand, will take a couple of visits at least, to get said affairs in order.
The thing is, all this talk of wills has me looking over my shoulder to check out if Death is still hanging around (of course He is) but you know what I mean.
It’s not like any of us get out of this alive to live another day. Death and taxes. Isn’t that the axiom?
Am I rambling? Probably. To be honest, all this talk of notaries and wills has me twitchy. I told myself after surgery to live in the moment, the here and now, and not think or worry about the future and things beyond my limited control. But here we are. Sometimes we have to plan for a future we don’t particularly want to think about, our own demise.
All joking aside, sometimes we have no choice but to step outside of the here and now, and make decisions for our future. So if ever there were a moment of Memento Mori, it’s the writing of a will. And that time to have that last say in the land of the living of what happens to you when Death finally does come.
I would like my last will and testament will simply read: Bury me under a sapling oak.
𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧
Let’s face it, I really did poorly last year with my reads averaging one book per month with a long dry spell over the summer (as I was otherwise occupied). Ending with nothing read in November and December or, I should say, nothing finished. I did start THE LOST by Sarah Beth Durst in (I think) November but, sad to say, DNFd it to the TBR pile on the coffee table. And then, excited to get Len Deighton’s reissued BERLIN GAME, started reading that and, well, got sidetracked.
It’s still sitting on the side of the coffee table next to three stacks of unread or partially read books. I got a couple of chapters in and wasn’t feeling it. Though I do love me a good spy thriller set in 60s-70s pre smart phones when Gooks still had to do a lot of leg work. When it was all about connections and spy craft rather than tech. But, all that aside, I’m struggling to focus.
Cue my third read in as many months. A DROP OF CORRUPTION, a fantasy and the second in a series by Robert Jackson Bennett. I raced through book one earlier this year, pre-op, and loved the characters and world building, which was so different to the usual books I read, murder-mysteries and thrillers. I’m hoping as I’m familiar with the world and characters that I’ll find the same magic as I did in book one.
Wish me luck, I’m starting it this afternoon after lunch.
𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧
On this day, Donald Trump inspired a riot of the capital.
While John F. Kennedy inspired a generation.