“They” say winter photography
is often “sticks and snow”.
Thus began a recent photo-story from a reader of this blog and Ottawa neighbour. In the back-and-forth that followed his post, he made the comment that, being in Arizona, I was in the land of “no sticks and snow”. Now, at our Arizona elevation I’ll give him the “no snow” part, but on the “no sticks” part, well, I must demur.
There are, I come to find out, 88 species of wren. That’s certainly enough to defy simple categorical descriptions, and in this they do not disappoint. Consider these facts:
So, to summarize, wrens live here and there, eat this and that and that, are in-your-face unless they’re hiding behind your back, stay put through the seasons unless they don’t, and are extroverted unless they’re introverted. And, oh yes, some non-wren species have been mistakenly identified (and named, of course) as wrens.
The soup was tasty,
but it was rich.
I stop myself mid-text. Have I chosen the right words? I take another look: soup, tasty, and rich are all correct. What I’m doubting is that but.
But often suggests an unfortunate trade-off between a good thing–tasty–and a less-good thing–rich. It’s what the book parody of The Lord of the Rings played on for humorous effect, lo, these many years ago now.
Hobbits are a short but nasty folk.
Harsh. Brutal. Ugly. Cold, hard.
All these adjectives precede the same word. Whatever can it be? What horrible, depressing thing is being described by all these words?
Oh. Truth.
Category: Quick
I look again at the food-site’s designator for Everything Bagel Salmon, but it doesn’t get any better the second time around. Quick? Quick? What kind of recipe category is “Quick”?
What part of the meal does a Quick recipe supply? What ingredients does a Quick recipe require? What craving does a Quick recipe satisfy? What cooking skills does a Quick recipe assume?
I’ll leave the weird lyrics to Ol’ Blue Eyes. (I mean, seriously, check them out.) Me, I thought you might enjoy a virtual walk or two somewhere where it’s warm.
These first views are from the neighbourhood and are just fun.
Do you remember this?
Technically, you don’t. You can’t. Because this is a photo I took late last year and am just now posting. But if you rook my question to mean, “Do you remember these social-distancing decals?” then I expect you could honestly answer, “Yes.” My favourite was the Timbits one.
en•tro•py
lack of order or predictability; gradual decline into disorder.
I do not think much about thermodynamic quantities; the thermal energy of systems (whether available or unavailable for conversion into mechanical work) is not where I live, at least not consciously. But I admit to being bothered by lack of order/predictability, and by any decline (gradual or otherwise) into disorder wherever I observe it.
Last year I indulged myself by sorting, folding, and neatly stacking the towels in our Tempe rental, thereby rolling back the disorder that had accumulated across a succession of renters. Hey, everyone needs a hobby. I documented the result.
2025 Mar – How it started
I am *so* done with Christmas.
Oh, sorry – wrong pronoun. WE are so done with Christmas: you, me, everyone. That’s it; it’s over. How do I know? Here’s my go-to grocery store in Tempe AZ on Dec 30.
This display was relatively modest: Walmart had an aisle (or maybe two) of Valentine’s Day paraphernalia. Standing at one end, I peered cautiously into the modern analogue of a formal Victorian garden, an arch of hearts above me standing in for the wrought-iron trellis supporting trailing wisteria.
