Snow is flying yet again! This is punctuated by glaring sunlight that dazzles us from the snowy counterpane. I just have to keep reminding myself that it is only March. Here in Southern Ontario, blizzards in April are no big surprise.
What’s in my head?
A mad mix of genealogical statistics – predominantly Danish and concerning my husband’s father’s family. I have recently uncovered the information on him that I have been seeking for three years, and it is startling! (I’m still hoping to find a connection with Viggo! So far, nothing concrete on that front.)
What am I grateful for:
I don’t have to go out in this weather.
What’s cooking? Today, I’m taking it easy. Last night, I cooked up a special spaghetti sauce with yellow peppers, cremini mushrooms, red onion and tomatoes done with fennel, chili peppers, basil and oregano and a dash of red wine. It was delicious and had a nice “kick” to it.
What’s in my glass/cup?
“Rio-Red Grapefruit Juice mixed with a little O.J. It helps the supplements go down.
What’s my “get-up”?
Grey track pants, grey hoodie, navy cardigan and white t-shirt plus, three layers of socks! (It gets cold in my office-corner!)
What’s on the monitor?
Still Kev’s smiling face in the foreground of a photo of the Royal Hotel in town.
Where am I off:
Today, nowhere, if I can help it! The snow is really flying now!
What’s in my library?
I’m just getting into Mary Shelley’s “Frankenstein” for the second time. I read it 28 years ago while I was at university. I remember liking it, but of course I was preoccupied with other things in those days.
I was living away from home for the first time, a few months after my father had just been seriously injured in a hit-and-run bicycle accident. Actually, seeing him in the emergency ward of a hospital, all bruised and bloated from the head injury he incurred, was rather similar to what Dr. Frankenstein must have seen in the monster he created. Maybe that’s why I didn’t pay much attention to the novel.
My dad had been in a coma for a couple of weeks, and then there was a very long road to recovery. He was never the same man.
What’s that noise?
The low hum of electronics and the periodic click of the furnace going on.
What’s happening here?
Mercifully, the cats are all asleep and not on their usual crusade for food. Gilbert, the senile old boy of 18 will make an appearance in about an hour, stand in the middle of the room and bellow like an old bull on heat.
Gotta love this!
We’re working our way through all of the “Who Do You Think You Are” episodes from Britain. We can watch most of them online, although the quality of the picture is not the greatest in some cases. We find the show fascinating even when we don’t know who is researching his or her family. The history behind the life-stories is what makes the program so captivating. If you haven’t seen any of these programs, I encourage you to look for them. The American version is on tonight, Friday, at 8:00 p.m. I believe it’s NBC, but don’t quote me.
What’s up this week?
I went to choir practice on Wednesday night and it was a good run. We’re working on the music for the liturgy for Easter and our young choir director, Nicole has us spitting our words and trilling our “rs”. It’s sounding quite good, considering we are a very small choir. I do enjoy every minute of it!
Sinead O’Connor’s, “I Am Stretched On Your Grave” with it’s military-snare backing and the manic uillean pipes finale.
I decided to listen to the “I Do Not Want What I Haven’t Got” album as I prepared my spaghetti sauce for last night’s supper. I hadn’t listened to Sinead with any concentration since the late 1980s when I used to grab my boyfriend at the time and make him slow-dance with me to “Nothing Compares 2U” (turns out, something did, by the way).
I thoroughly enjoyed revisiting this album, but of course my mind kept wandering (as it will do) to the whole tearing-up-the-Pope’s-image on Saturday Night Live, and also, her recent supposed advertisements for a sexual liason. She must be a fairly troubled individual.
Even if she refutes the faith she was born with, there’s no denying that God graced her with a most exceptional voice and I still love her early music. It reminds me of when I was limber on the dance floor, and liked to fancy myself a bit of a punk, as well. I never shaved my head though.
Enjoy this video of the “Irish Princess”.
A picture from today’s report:
|This cover image reminds me of photos of Shackleton’s expeditions by photographer, Frank Hurley.