Sunday, October 19, 2014

Sunday Salon...

Sunday Salon finds me a little slow reading.  I finished The Weed that Strings the Hangman's Bag.  All I can say is I love Flavia. I haven't read all of Alan Bradley's works, but I'm on the way.
And then I started Kindred, Octavia Butler.  I'm not wild about time travel, but... I'm only on page 68 and bored of it.  While I appreciate the historical comparison's, I don't know just can't get into it... this is why I can't get through the Outlander series.   Up next is the Island, Victoria Hislop, I think this might be another visit to the past, but not quite time travel.

The remainder of the week is rather full, so hopefully I'll be reading on the rails as it were.

Friday, October 17, 2014

Sky Watch Friday...and it's tradition

Yesterday, my son S. Vincent received his Masters of the Arts degree Literatures of Modernity.  This photo was taken while we waited patiently outside of the Ryerson Theater for the doors to open. While we were getting dressed earlier in the day I had struggled into some control top panty hose only to discover that they slid down the minute I started to move, clearly they had been on the shelf for way too long and the lycra was gone. I might add these pantyhose were $9. This is the tradition, every time we go to a graduation our pantyhose don't stay up.  Ask Alice,  when my mom and sister attended my graduation my mom was hurrying along to get to the car before her pantyhose slid down.   I recall a similar event during the dressing process with my niece's grad...I wore pants in the end no hosiery.  After all this is a serious event, nothing to laugh at in case the tears run down your legs. 
at the department reception everyone knew I was S. Vincent's mom, by our unruly hair
the Birthday Boy and The Graduate, (the grey haired guy was celebrating his 63rd B. Day)

Saturday, October 11, 2014

Snapshot Saturday...

The last of summer?  This was all I could find to say "fall" in our area.  This was still part of the" photo shoot".  The most I got out of this adventure is I'd really like to move, to a beach front property, if only I was 40years younger, and married to a much handier Andy.


 For more Saturday Snapshots see Melinda’s blog West Metro Mommy Reads.

Friday, October 10, 2014

Skywatch Friday...

Heavily inspired by my blogging friends, I've decided to take a photography course.  Armned with my little camera, out I went to shoot.  I must admit I was not happy the day I took these, it was very windy, I was very tired and sore, but out I went.

the assignment was fall colours,  Well I don't know where everyone else in the class found coloured leaves, but they were not in my immediate surrounding area, and I had to go read at the beach before the snow fell, so this was a fall sky.  Of the few and there were only a few photos, these were the  one's the instructor said I could post.

Tuesday, September 30, 2014

Teaser Tuesday... The Weed that Strings the Hangman's Bag


love the book cover, photo of a book I own


Teaser Tuesdays is a weekly bookish meme, hosted by MizB of Should Be Reading. Anyone can play along! Just do the following:
• Grab your current read
• Open to a random page
• Share two (2) “teaser” sentences from somewhere on that page
• BE CAREFUL NOT TO INCLUDE SPOILERS! (make sure that what you share doesn’t give too much away! You don’t want to ruin the book for others!)
• Share the title & author, too, so that other TT participants can add the book to their TBR Lists if they like your teasers!
 The Weed that Strings the Hangman's Bag, Aland Bradley

the first sentence killed me...

I WAS LYING DEAD IN THE CHURCHYARD.

but this was one I really enjoyed... a young girl, fond of someone special.

Dogger's experiences as a prisoner of war had left something broken inside him: ...But tonight he was at peace.  Tonight he had dressed for the symphony in a dark suit and what might have been a regimental tie, and his shoes had been polished until they shone like mirrors.  He sat motionless on the bench beneath the roses, his eyes closed, his face upturned like one of the contented Coptic saints I had seen in the art pages of Country Life, his shock of white hair lit from behind by an unearthly beam from the setting sun.  It was  pleasant to know that he was there.