Not procrastinating

I'm a lazy sort so this rarely happens, but

I've triple-booked myself today.

And that's before factoring in my looming deadline.

No procrastinating for me!

Not even to look out the window at the pretty day or think about hair clips or slice up tomatoes for luxury snack with goat cheese or research new shoes for fall or get around to weeding the garden or... or... oh... no.

No procrastinating!

A bridge with a view

One thing I really miss about England is the hiking trails, so when I read recently about the Grand Trunk Trail in St. Marys, Ontario - it's a railway line that's been converted to use for hiking and biking and walking a dog - I thought I'd check it out.




I read that the view from that bridge was pretty special. I'd say Yes, wouldn't you?



This one made me think of Jane Austen:


Even the trail was breathtaking.


And not just because it was super steep on some of the edges. Seriously: paving, plus maybe an inch either side, and then slippy slidey down. You don't need much width for a train.

Summer in a snapshot

The other day I saw this scene and felt I was 7 again.


It absolutely sums up my childhood summers: solid provincial park architecture*, bright sun and blue skies with just enough cloud for contrast, lush green trees, and time to wander.

Really the only difference is that this time, I was on my way to a chocolate shop. (Plus, you know, that 'being older' thing.)

* in case you're wondering - yes, that gorgeous stone wall makes up one side of the public toilets. Nothing but the best!

I can haz cheeseburger

Or rather, too many cheeseburgers.

I don't typically eat a lot of fast food, being sensible about reserving my over-the-top fat and sugar intake for dessert, but amid all the road trips this summer I find I keep getting stranded at mealtime near someplace where burgers are really the safest choice. (We will not speak of the place where I attempted a tuna sandwich, or discuss how on earth it is possible to make tuna inedible.)

Of course, in places like that, the burger tends to be pretty awful too, but if you put even the ickiest of processed pretend cheese on top, it can be bearable. So I keep doing that.

And after a couple of weeks of feeling horrible as a result, I'm coming to the conclusion that it is, in fact, better to make sandwiches at home. Even if it does mean getting up even earlier than pre-dawn to do it.

Not baking

Okay, so the baking fell through yesterday. Dagnabbit! I was forced to clean out my closet instead, which was...well, odd. Every time I looked into the gaping chasms left behind I had questions. Questions like:

It's tiny, so how did I manage to fit 4 donation-ready garbage bags' worth of stuff I don't need in there?

Now that I have space free, do I really want a wrapping paper/craft center beside my socks?

If I do, can I really live on 2 (admittedly big) drawers' worth of non-sock clothes for all 12 months of the year?

And honestly - this is me we're talking about - is two trays of shoes anywhere near enough? Even though for the past 18 months I have only worn
a/ pink Mephisto sandals (summer)
b/ black mary janes (transition)
c/ black Blundstone boots (winter)
d/ New Balance running shoes (exercise)
?

Maybe it is enough and I should go farther and ditch the shoes I can't wear even though they are beautiful and cost a bomb, and slide in some yarn or office supplies instead. ????

and the ever-popular

Is this a good time to break for tea and biscuits?

Justifiable procrastination

Today was supposed to be this year's big reorganization day. I've been working toward it for about a week by throwing out everything that isn't screwed to the floor (i.e. the drifts of meaningless paper and 2-years-expired foodstuffs) and pulling together various organizational aids like boxes and hooks and other props.

I've even been thinking about sewing custom behind-the-door caddies for things like wrapping paper and tape. Please, somebody. Stop me.

However, all that will have to wait because a friend got behind with her essential-grade baking and I offered to take on some of it. She has one of those awful medical conditions that requires a highly restrictive diet to keep it in check, and she's limited to things like baked goods made with almond flour.

Aren't I noble and virtuous to help her? I assure you it has nothing whatsoever to do with sorting through cardboard boxes of junk versus smelling the awesome aroma of things freshly baked with almond flour. Nothing at all. Ahem.

Surprise ending

I thought I was ever so clever yesterday. All-day thunderstorms had been called for the Cute Town I was due to visit with a little party of friends, so I tracked down another Cute Town none of us had ever checked out, and which was coincidentally the only place in the whole province scheduled for sun.

All day long my companions thanked me for my quick thinking, because it really was the loveliest of lovely summer days, with great scenery, many happy discoveries in the way of museums and parks, AND a charity shop where I found - drumroll please - a bag of vintage buttons. Sounds boring, I know, but buttons are a hot commodity for the average crafty person, and vintage ones are as gold.

The day was so lovely, in fact, we left it late coming back, and as traffic slowed on the highway, we put on the radio for traffic and weather updates.

And oh dear, it seemed the thunderstorms were now coming our way, fast, and came complete with severe thunderstorm warnings that were quickly upgraded to tornado watches and then tornado warnings (which are apparently a step up from watches and mean that one could happen at any moment.)

The radio people sounded terrified, frankly. One of them later said that she and others spent some time under their desks because of the wall of windows that threatened to break under pressure from the tornado they saw touching down outside their building.

And there we were in a car on a highway surrounded by other cars and projectile-ready construction materials, rain suddenly falling in sheets and huge lightning bolts and flashes appearing around us every few seconds, and the danger area being extended every few minutes to include us no matter how far we'd crawled since the last report. Even the meteorologist was saying he'd never seen a storm like this in his entire career.

And yet - we seemed only to follow the storm. The weather was bad, but not nearly so bad as what the radio people were describing from a mile off. They had black skies with zero visibility owing to the heavy rain, while ours were grey-green and wet but manageable. Apart from ten minutes' wait in the driveway before the lightning cleared up enough to let me get into the house again, we were entirely unscathed.

Just before bedtime, when I'd calmed down, I remembered my exciting button find. And I unpacked the bag, and you'll never guess what was in it.



The words on three are too worn to make out, but I knew what they were the moment I saw the safety pin that was holding them. See that gold one in the bottom right corner? The reverse reads:

St. Christopher
Our Protector
Guard Us
From Danger