It grows pretty darn well this year–certainly a damn sight better than last year!
Whereas last year we had one (1) pea, this year we actually had a handful! And they were delicious. And we’ve already eaten twice as many tomatoes (4) than we ever got all of last season–despite having far fewer plants this year–and there appears to be many more tomatoes on the way, working their way from green to orange to red.
Yes, the garden has been doing so well, in fact, that some animal has discovered it. This is a first, actually. It’s a raised bed, so that deters a lot of critters right there. I was just plain confused, at first, to find that the parsley and cilantro plants that had been so abundant with leaves at breakfast looked really… stemmy at dinner time. Took a while to realize that meant some sort of animal invader.
The next day was worse, the parsley and cilantro now completely leafless, and some of the tomatoes tried and discarded (they’re still pretty green, most of them).
Worst of all, the critter didn’t even touch the sage. Sage, I’m starting to realize, is the zucchini of the herb world: hardy, abundant, yet not very useful as a food item. That, I would happily share with anyone. Yet all of its many, many leaves remained intact, serving only tp make the naked parsley and cilantro plants nearby look more sad.
I went on the Interweb to look up “keeping animals out of garden”, and of course that just left me totally confused. Cayenne works, except when it doesn’t. Put dirty socks out there. Or smelly soap. Electric fences. Radios set CBC (human voice).
Anyway, we finally decided to try a modified fencing approach. We now have mesh fabric running around the whole garden, lowered at strategic points so that I can still get at it. I have no idea if I’m dealing with raccoon, bunny, or even cat exploring his vegetarian side, but regardless, at least that should make access more complicated, so hopefully they’ll go visit the neighbour’s garden instead.
You’ve seen The Story of Stuff, yes? The fairly enlightening, partly animated video about how we North Americans all have too much stuff, and why that’s a problem? It has made me think. (99% of what I acquire is discarded within 6 months? Really?) But so far, I don’t think it’s really made me change my behavior.
It’s just so ingrained. Just watch this beautiful justification for why two people having three television sets just isn’t enough….
********
Many television series ran their course for the season back in May or so, but we’ve been getting by with season 1 of True Blood (never did develop the love, though), season 1 of Californication (whereas I really did get caught up with all these flawed people), and even finally finishing all my PVR’ed episodes of Flashforward. (And the TV critic who claimed the last episode was confusing and open-ended was an idiot. The last episode wasn’t in the least hard to follow, and the series tied itself up very nicely, leaving some areas open for the future, yes, but hardly to a frustrating extent. The whole thing is recommended for all who like sci-fi, physics, and philosophical questions of will vs. fate, as presented by pretty people.)
But now all those are done, too, so Jean and I have near run out of shows we both like to watch. This is a problem, because we both tend to like to settle down around 9:00 for a bit of TV. What to watch, what to watch, when all I want to do is catch up with So You Think You Can Dance (nestled there on the PVR) but he’s already engrossed in an action thriller on AMC?
What, you only have one TV, you ask? Well, no. But the thing, we only have one TV in a location where it’s actually comfortable to sit down and watch it. The second one is in the kitchen, where your only seating option are the high stools at the breakfast bar. Fine for catching the news while preparing and eating dinner, but not so great for settling in for a long watch. (Plus, being that close to the food also leads to way too much snacking.)
And the third? If you can even call that a TV, given that it’s–and I’m serious–a Commodore 64 monitor. So it’s very old and therefore prone to some flickering, and also very small. And, it’s in the exercise room. Being an exercise room, there are no seats in there, unless you count the big weight machine chair. So it’s a great place to play exercise or other videos while exercising. But if you just want to watch TV, you’re kind of stuck with a yoga mat on the floor as “seating”.
This, combined with the grumpiness that comes with the heat and humidity of late, that has led to us arguing over our respective television preferences, and who is to be banished to the uncomfortable upstairs. Adding insult to injury, upstairs person also loses PVR access. Stuck with live TV, with its many, many long commercial breaks (all telling you that you suck and need to buy more stuff)…
So, clearly, we need to put a TV in the living room.
Much like TV in the bedroom, this is something I’ve always resisted, with some idea that the living room should be about “higher” culture like books and music and paintings and conversation.
But one has to be practical. Fact is, it is the only other room in the house with couches and chairs.
But we ain’t putting a TV cabinet in there. So, the thing will have to wall-mounted. And, it’s the living room; it’s going to have to look good. So there’s no question of moving one of the existing extra TVs into that room (and besides, we need them where they are!). Clearly, we need a new TV.
A lovely, sleek, new flatscreen television.
************
See how that works? And the lovely new television will, in turn, lead to justifications for high-definition TV receivers and service and PVRs, not to mention BluRay DVD players and discs. And won’t that mean some sort of sound system upgrade? …
And hence we demonstrate our value in this culture of consumerism.
I’d mentioned to some that the SD card from our trip had cracked right in half when inserted into the computer. Well, it turns out that Windows 7 has a feature to help you recover from such a thing. To access it, simply remove the card, reinsert it, and accept the repair option. In the end, we lost very few photos. (And I’ve finally managed the finish the web pages about the trip.)
Too bad it took us a few weeks to figure that out.
*****
Have a new iPod classic. Well, new to me. I bought it used on Ebay. It’s in excellent shape, though; looks brand new. I was mainly after greater storage capacity, and boy do I have that now: 120 GB. Given that it’s taken me 5 years to get to 30 GB, that should be enough for some time. It’s also black, which is somewhat cooler-looking than the white. And it has a better screen, a “cover flow” feature (which I’m not entirely sure of the point of, but is weirdly compelling to look at), more information displayed about each song and playlist, and the ability to create Genius playlists on-the-fly.
The Ebay experience was a little stressful due to uncommunicative seller, but to his credit, he was very fast in shipping it out. So fast, in fact, that he didn’t even bother to remove his 60 GB of music first. So much music, so little I have any interest in. To start fresh? Click that scary, never-before-used “Restore Factory Settings” button.
*****
More nice tributes have come in for Pete Quaife of The Kinks, including an obituary in the Globe and Mail on July 1, by one his former—but post-Kinks—bandmates. Also very beautiful was Ray Davies’ dedicated rendition of “Days”, the most perfect song to sing to a departed friend (and a song he’s often associated with Pete in the past). Ray almost loses it on the opening lines.
Having gotten a little behind on checking in on Kinks news, I found out only today that Pete Quaife had died. Pete was the original bassist for The Kinks, a founding member of the band who left in 1969. So his bass lines underscored all their great early hits, starting with “You Really Got Me.” His bass is particularly prominent in the opening of one of the most beautiful songs ever, “Waterloo Sunset”. And he even got to sing lead once, on the country-esque “Willesden Green.”
Pete also happens to be the only member of The Kinks I’ve met personally. It was at an academic conference, of all things, albeit one on the subject of Popular Culture. The conference was in Toronto, and Pete was living in Canada at the time. He presented a session on the British Invasion in general, and The Kinks in particular. His presentation was funny and engaging, and he was very congenial about shaking hands afterward.
So, I find myself pretty bummed that he’s gone. At 66, he is the first of the four founding members of The Kinks to die.
Another thing I like is having Good Seats when I go to any kind of live performance. It’s to the point where I will avoid going completely if I Good Seats aren’t available—or are outrageously priced. Because I’ve tried, and I just know that being too far from the stage really does diminish my enjoyment.
Hence it was that we ended up at a performance of Norman last night.
Norman was playing locally as part of the Magnetic North theatre festival. I had never heard of this festival before, but apparently it’s been running for a number of years now. Every other year it goes to a new Canadian city; otherwise, it’s put on in Ottawa. This year is Kitchener-Waterloo’s turn.
When I heard about it, it sounded like something interesting and that I wanted to support. I was especially excited that Rick Mercer was doing a show as part of the festival. But when I finally remembered to try to get tickets for Rick’s show, the seats just weren’t that Good. Row M, kind of off to the side. It was dimming my enthusiasm.
So I looked through the program for what else might work, and Norman sounded interesting:
Most of us grew up with the work of Norman McLaren. Between slick Saturday morning cartoons or on clunky classroom projectors, McLaren’s mesmerizing work slid unexpectedly into the lives of generations of Canadians.
In the internationally acclaimed Norman, ground-breaking projection technology allows a performer to physically interact with the cinematic universe of award-winning Canadian film pioneer Norman McLaren. Join us as they delve into the vaults of Canada’s National Film Board to combine technology, animation and theatre in an unforgettable visual experience.
Seats were not actually being assigned for this, which made me think they weren’t expecting a big crowd. Smaller crowds always greatly enhance your chance of Good Seats. So I got tickets for that.
The performance was at 7:00. We arrived around 6:35 to find the Centre in the Square looking eerily empty, with maybe 10 other people there at that point? So yeah, no problem getting Good Seats!
As the performance approached, fortunately, more people showed up. The crowd was still one of the smallest I’ve seen at the Centre, but at least had swelled to filled all the best seats in the house (though all the bad ones were empty).
I wasn’t terribly clear on what we were about to see, Jean even less so—he had no idea who Norman McLaren was, and had been telling people he was going to something called Daniel that night. After a short announcement, which concluded with the reminder to turn off your cell phones, the lights dimmed, all went quiet, and…
Someone’s cell phone started ringing. Couldn’t believe it!
That is, until I realized that this was part of the show. The single performer, dancer Peter Trosztmer, talked on the phone on his way to the stage, then addressed us about his obsession with Norman McLaren.
The 90 minutes that followed are really hard to describe, but were completely riveting. Peter would talk about McLaren, show parts of his films, but also interact with them in dance movements. He would dance between the intersecting lines. He would bat away the assembling and dissembling balls. He pulled away Norman’s chair in the well-known Chairy Tale, then interacted with his own. He became one of the dancers in the beautiful Pas de Deux.
I don’t know how they did it all, but it was absolutely brilliant.
Intersected with these film/dance pieces were documentary bits, in which holographic images of various people who worked with McLaren spoke about him. Also shown were some interviews with McLaren himself. It all gave me a much deeper appreciation of McLaren’s genius, particularly his skill at making music visual. It makes me want to go watch a bunch of his movies—which, fortunately, the NFB makes easy to do. (And isn’t it fabulous that staid old Canada funds a film board where an eccentric genius can spend a lifetime producing abstract short films?)
Much as I was taken with the whole thing, I wasn’t sure how Jean would react, but I needn’t have worried. Though he opined that it could perhaps have been a tad shorter, overall, he was in awe. He loved it.
So thanks to all you people who quickly snapped up the Good Mercer Seats, thus leading me to one of most intriguing live performances I’ve ever seen.
I’ve not posted for a while on the “things I like” theme, so here’s a short and sweet one: Growing my own herbs. What’s great about that is:
It’s easy. Most don’t require much coddling. Maybe water them if they look wilty, cut them down if they look a little overgrown. S’about it. Some even come back the next year (sage, oregano, and marjoram, for me).
Instant satisfaction. You don’t have to wait (much) for them to grow, and certainly no wait for fruit or veg to develop. They come with leaves, and that’s what you eat.
Delicious. One of the easiest ways to perk up an otherwise mediocre dish is to add fresh herbs.
Money-saving. At least, I think so, given the price of the little packages from the grocery store, particularly considering the entire contents don’t always get used. You grow your own, you can harvest only what you need, as you need it.
Today’s menu of gnocchi with wild mushrooms in a simple olive oil/butter/chicken broth/Parmesan sauce were enhanced with very fresh parsley and sage leaves, which I crisped in the toaster oven. Very delicious with a 2008 Pinot Noir from Rosewood Estates, and only took a half hour to make.
Usually, after coming back from vacation, there is a daunting pile of TV programming stored in the PVR.
This year, not so much, because our time away corresponded with many shows winding down their season. This means that I haven’t spent all my time back watching television, and can therefore write about it.
Sitcom-land
You know what sitcom I’ve actually enjoyed most this season? This one:
This program has evolved a great deal from its original premise of 40-year-old woman chasing hot young guys (a premise I never found quite as offensive as I was apparently supposed to) to an ensemble show about said woman, yes, but now focusing on other relationships in her life: her son, her ex-husband, her friend, her neighbor (and now age-appropriate boyfriend). It’s evolved so much, in fact, they’re considering changing the title.
But the main thing about it is, it’s funny! The occasional episode doesn’t quite work, but it’s when popping, it’s really popping. The cast play off each other wonderfully well.
Unfortunately, two sitcoms I used to really enjoy haven’t had such great seasons. How I Met Your Mother started the season with Robin and Barney together, broke them up in record time—which really disappointed me, as they’d built this up over quite some time—then seemed at a loss for storylines for the rest of the season. Earlier seasons of this show were very enjoyable, but I don’t know if I’ll be tuning in next season.
Similarly, 30 Rock. Unlike Mother, I wasn’t that invested in any particular character or what happened to them. Just found the show often wickedly funny. But it’s often been bordering on dull this season, with Jack’s love triangle and Liz’s lack of love situation and Kenneth not really having much to do.
I don’t know. Maybe I should check out Parks and Recreation. I hear that’s good.
High-concept dramas
I never watched Lost, and I dropped 24, so I can’t comment on either of those high-profile programs. But I have mostly been sticking with Flashforward.
At least, mostly. I don’t know what it is about this show, but I can’t seem to watch it until I have a bunch of episodes stacked for viewing. And the program has really been criticized, but I’ve mostly enjoyed it. Maybe because I watch several in a row? It’s an interesting premise, and it seems to me they’ve been moving it along well and reasonably keeping all their threads in order.
However. It has been cancelled, but that news did not reach the producers until after they shot the final episode. Which, I’ve read, has resulted in a season finale that ties up many loose ends, yes, but also introduces mountains of confusing new complications to set up the then-expected season 2.
So what do I do now, me with my remaining pile of episodes as yet unwatched? Do I see it through even knowing I’ll just be disappointed in the end? Or do I cut my losses now? Oh, such dilemmas.
Glee!
How can I write about TV and not mention Glee, right? Although the amount of hype around its return has been just absurd. And the show has taken some time to find its footing again. The first half-season, though I mostly loved it, was nevertheless marred by some really stupid plotlines, dragged out far too long. The second half had almost an opposite problem: plotlines going by quickly, you could barely see them as they whooshed by. It’s like the show was in a frenzy, trying to cram in as many hit songs and Sue zingers as possible, forgetting that the show really needs to have some heart.
But recent outings have been better. The Joss Whedon-directed episode was almost as great as hoped, the Lady Gaga episode has some really stunning, subtle (of all things) scenes. And it still makes me laugh, and I still like the songs, and Britanny may be the best dumb blonde character ever. Glee!
And over on the cable channels
I somehow miraculously managed to notice that:
Space channel is playing True Blood
Showcase is running Californication
In time to actually watch both shows from episode 1 (or nearly). And so far (I’m near the start of season 1 of both), while I like True Blood, I was kind of expecting to love it. And to be totally into the Sookie and Bill thing—which I’m not. It’s fine that they’re together, but I don’t feel too invested in it. (Plus, I read the first novel, so now I think I know who the killer is.) But I’ll keep watching. Perhaps the love will develop later.
As for Californication—that’s fun! Who knew David Duchovny could be so lively. And damn if he doesn’t still look really sexy.
On our fourth trip to France (after our honeymoon European tour that included parts of northern France, the 2006 Valentine week in Paris, and the Pauwell’s tour in Provence in 2009), we mostly visited the Languedoc-Rousillon region, which is in the Southwest, near Spain. We also spent a couple days in Paris. These are the things that particularly struck me on this trip.
Everything is beautiful
Much like Spain, which of course it’s close to, this is beautiful countryside: mountains, beaches, castles, vineyards, charming little towns of stone, rivers, bridges. It didn’t hurt that we had constant blue sky, but every day, wherever we went, we also had fantastic views. (And Paris is in the most beautiful city in the world.)
The roads are insane and the GPS will try to kill you
We purchased a new GPS before this trip and loaded European data onto it. This did prove very handy in finding our way in our rental car. Finding the anglicized pronunciations of French streets and cities near incomprehensible, we switched it to French mode, and let the nice GPS lady tell us which sortie to take in the rond-point and when we had to serrez à gauche. If we happened to miss a turn, she would recalcule and find us the next best route.
The only thing we were having trouble understanding was why, despite selecting the “fastest route” option, which should have kept us on the major roads (such as they are in this region), we were forever being directed onto tiny little winding sideroads, sometimes on the edges of cliffs, that seemed barely wide enough for one car, let alone two. Or that in the little cities, instead of taking the main road through towns, she had us go turn off onto tiny laneways and over what certainly appeared to be pedestrian bridges.
It took a number of days of hair-raising adventures before we figured it out. The French, it appears, take a very simplified approach to speed limits. In town, it’s 50. Approaching towns, it might be 70. Between towns, 90. And highways are 110.
But that 90 between towns—that’s for every road, no matter how tiny, twisty, or cliff-hanging. Of course, nobody actually drives anywhere near 90 on them. But the GPS, not knowing, would look at the many 90 speed-limit roads available to us, and select the shortest one, or the one interrupted by the least towns. So it wasn’t trying to kill us. It just lacked a windiness/narrowness factor in selecting the “fastest” route. (It become quite a game watching the GPS’s “estimated time of arrival” creep up and up as we wound around the 90-limit road at around 40 K an hour…)
You will eat when we say you can eat
On the first day, our B&B owner warned us that, in this region, meals were served between 12 and 2, and between 7 and 9. Period. So part of daily planning was always making sure to be in a city during those hours, so we could eat.
The very first day, this plan was stymied by another, unmentioned factor about this region: Restaurants may be closed on any given day. And apparently, if one is going to close in a city, quite possibly they all will. So our Monday plan to have dinner in Mont Louis was stymied when three of its restaurants were closed for dinner on Monday, leaving only one, and that one was overrun with a bus tour group.
So we took to the road, but of course, the GPS had us on some crazy narrow winding road, so our estimated time of arrival kept creeping up and creeping up, threatening to make us miss the 9:00 deadline entirely. And we were hungry! In the end, we were saved by Pierre Lys’ willingness to seat and feed us, despite the 9:02 PM hour.
Less dramatic but still somewhat astonishing was the restaurant in Espéraza (where we were staying) that we tried to go to four times, finding it open only once. (It was really good, but we were the only people there. Wonder why.) One of those nights, our second- and third-choice restaurants also proved to be closed, although it was Thursday! We ended having to eat at the same restaurant we’d eaten the night before, the very elegant Duc et Joyeuse. Excellent food and service, so there are worse things. But still.
Paris was quite refreshing in that we could eat at whatever time we wanted.
100 mile diet? Try 100 yard diet. (At least for wine)
Local takes on a whole new meaning in an area that has as many vineyards as Languedoc Rousillon. When the restaurant says C’est du vin local, they mean that it was made within walking distance. So as we visited different little towns, we got to try different wines with our meals (though often made with similar grapes).
What we didn’t do was visit any wineries. As we were afeared of the weight limits on our flights, we didn’t want to buy any wine. No buying meant why bother going to taste them at the wineries? In a way it was a relief, as the opportunities were plentiful, and trying to narrow down the choices would have been chore—albeit a fun one.
And actually, it isn’t completely true that we didn’t visit any wineries. Part of our trip package included a two-hour wine-tasting course. But although it did take place at a winery, it was independently run, and featured wines from 8 different producers. It was really well done. We were particularly taken with the sparkling, fruity wine from Limoux and a wonderful Cabernet Franc (not a typical grape of the region), but really, all 8 were good.
… As was lunch afterward. And this was my first experience on getting refills on a glass of wine. A glass. “I love France!” I exclaimed after every pour. (Possibly, as the DD—designated drunk, so Jean could drive—I was a little tipsy at this point.)
Other highlights
Lest you think we only drove, ate, and drank… We also did and saw cool stuff. Like:
Shopping at the Mirepoix market
Seeing Carcassonne, the second most-visited city in France
Walking through the Gorge de la Fou, France’s Grand Canyon
Climbing up into Chateau Perpeytuse
Enjoying the beautiful beach city of Collioure outside of peak tourist season
Reading the story behind the Rennes-le-Chateau mystery, while on site
Visiting the Paris neighborhood of the Marais
Of course I’ll be writing more detail this and the rest later…
Jean’s been away camping at Algonquin this weekend. During our thunderstorm, followed by our crazy wind storm, I realized that:
a) I have no idea where we keep flashlights in this house. (Perhaps Jean took them all camping?) In case of evening power outage, I would just be stumbling around in the dark. Or playing with matches. (Fortunately, no power outage occurred.)
b) If it was also happening in Algonquin, that would make canoeing really difficult. Since I did have power, though, a web search seemed to indicate that Algonquin was not in the wind warning region. Snow was a definite possibility, but winds were moderate.
Yep, the Internet is certainly great for finding out stuff. And for getting stuff. Like, I wanted to get a new audiobook for an upcoming trip. I went to Audible.com to see what I could find.
An aside: I used to be a member of Audible.com, but in recent years I’d realized that everything they had seem to also be available on iTunes. And cost less. But the Audible.com website it still a far superior place to go when browsing. It has categories, it has reviews, it has recommended lists. By comparison, shopping for audiobooks on iTunes really sucks.
After poking around for a while on Audible, I settled on Lori Lansens The Wife’s Tale. I wanted to read it anyway; it had great reviews; I thought Jean would also like it; it had a bit of a travel theme…
I did find it a bit odd that it wasn’t available in iTunes, but figured I’d just get it direct from Audible. I filled in the form, credit card number and all, clicked Submit… And was told I couldn’t have it, because I live in Canada.
Lori Lansens, of course, is a Canadian author. But apparently her Canadian publisher, unlike her American one, doesn’t want to bother making an Audible version of her novel available. Sucks for me. But also sucks for her, because after ranting and fuming for a while, web searching to see if there was any other obvious way to get the Lansens audiook (not that I could find, and was surprised to that library audiobooks are sometimes listed as not available? I guess it’s part of the deal of them being free that only so many people can access them at once?), I ended up purchasing the audiobook Nick Hornby’s Juliet, Naked instead.
Then today I got to wondering if software existed that could create sheet music from a song on a CD. Because there are some songs I’d like to play that I don’t have the sheet music for, and I’m really not good at playing by ear.
I wasn’t able to find software quite like that, but I was able to find software that would take a MIDI file and “notate” that. So I downloaded a trial version of that. And then, in two clicks, I was able to find a free MIDI file of exactly the song I was wanting to play, even though it was a fairly obscure album track.
The software will take a little figuring out, but it’s fairly cool. It reads in the file intelligently, then allows me to make some modifications (add lyrics, hide the drum score). Now I seem to have a pretty decent score of this song. Assuming I continue to like this app, I’ll buy it once the trial period ends, as apparently my being Canadian does not prohibit me from owning this particular piece of software.
Though I don’t think it’s directly connected to this issue—I don’t understand it all well enough to say—the apparent randomness of what digital files I am permitted to access (even when willing to pay) nevertheless reminded of this post I that also read this week:
What a goddamned disaster. The Tories have shown — yet again — their utter contempt for public opinion and Canadian culture and small business when these present an inconvenience to more windfall profits for offshore entertainment giants. Remember: thousands of us responded to the Tory inquiry on copyright law, and overwhelmingly, we said we did not want a US-style copyright disaster at home. Remember: hundreds of thousands of us wrote and called our MPs. Remember: Canadian artists’ coalitions fought against the imposition of a DMCA in Canada. Remember: America’s copyright war has been an absolute trainwreck, with tens of thousands facing lawsuits, competition and innovation eroded by DRM, free speech challenged by copyright takedowns, and no improvements for creators or creativity.
There’s only one thing stupider than being the first country to enact the DMCA, in spite of its obvious shortcomings: enacting the DMCA after the first country has spent a decade showing how rotten and backwards this approach to copyright is.
On the one hand, it seems, corporations feel they can use our personal information for whatever purpose. For example, Facebook declares that privacy is so passé, and why should anything stand in the way of them selling us stuff? And insurance companies decide they can run credit checks on their clients, and raise their house insurance rates accordingly—without any prior consent.
On the other hand, governments and related agencies have to be fought tooth and nail to release information in the public interest:
The Conservatives would not release files on Afghan detainees to members of Parliament, our representatives, until ordered to do so by the house speaker.
All media coverage of court appearances related to Victoria (Tori) Stafford’s murder trial has been banned. (Apparently, even commenting on stories about the ban has been banned. So don’t comment on the ban here, please. I guess.)
Though ordered to disclose the files on Ashley Smith, the young woman who killed herself as guards at the correctional institute watched, Corrections Canada has refused, saying they will appeal. In this case, note that Ashley Smith herself first requested her own files, and was supposed to get them within 30 days. Corrections gave themselves a 30-day extension from that, but didn’t meet that deadline, either. 123 days after the request, Ashley Smith died.
So corporations can use our personal information however they see fit, but we are not allowed to know what is being done in our name by our politicians, military, courts, and corrections.
Seems like someone should get upset about this, or something.
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