The adoration of Jack Frost.

Many of my posts are inspired by conversations I have with Yann. He’s my one-man test audience. Whenever a horrified look spreads across his face, I think, “Ooh, this is definitely blog-worthy.”

The night I posted about my impending exit from InstaCrap, the bedroom light suddenly switched off. I had angered God (who is now owned by Facebook).

My first thought was that Yann had grown impatient of me treating the bedroom as a makeshift office, and had shut off the light as a way to announce bedtime. This wasn’t rational as it’s not his style. If anything, it’s something I would do.

The glow from my notebook was enough for me to see that Yann wasn’t standing at the bedroom door as expected. I jump to conclusions poorly: the wind had knocked out the power, blacking out our building.

Continue reading “The adoration of Jack Frost.”

It’s safer in the mountains.

At 11:59pm on December 31st, I stood behind Yann as he washed the dishes. I had Enfoiré in my arms and an eye on the range display, waiting for 12:00 to pop up. At midnight, I yelled Happy New Year at the back of Yann’s head.

The scene an hour earlier had been even grimmer: I was hunched over on the couch, trying to comb the mats out of my toque’s pompom, which had shrunk in the washer. (The entire thing shrunk, actually. I aimlessly restored a pompom on a now too-small toque. I should have known better than to put a toque in a washer. Fuck.)

Continue reading “It’s safer in the mountains.”

Dry January came early.

On Christmas Day, Yann and I hiked up Mt. Doug (elevation 225m) and passed people in t-shirts. From the top, we had a 360° view of the Capital Regional District and its total absence of snow. White Christmases are overrated.

Yann, dressed in all-black and carrying a large daypack walks down a muddy trail on the side of Mount Doug.

Yann made an especially unnecessary observation when pointed out the observatory, which was obvious.

In the evening, we were served a Christmas meal by neither my nor Yann’s family, but Kristina’s family which meant there was significantly more signing involved than what I’m used to. Most of the time, THIS is what family dinners are like for me.

It would’ve been the perfect Christmas EXCEPT…

Continue reading “Dry January came early.”

The early bird gets the worm, but the late bird gets that bird.

I found a tree with cherry blossoms today.

Tree branches devoid of leaves have blooms of pink cherry blossoms.

Victoria still hasn’t seen a single snowflake. Last night, while Yann and I were outside for our evening toke, feathers snowed on us. Right before that happened, Yann heard a noise and spotted an owl that had perched on the power lines. What about owls’ reputation for being silent predators of the night? The sounds were coming from its latest meal, which was still alive.

Continue reading “The early bird gets the worm, but the late bird gets that bird.”

Three dozen.

In 2009, after having spent my teens exclusively on desktop PCs, I bought my first laptop.

I am typing on this very laptop right now: its successor is on the way to the ASUS HQ for repairs. The screen was flickering at random. I learned to live with the flickering somewhat but figured I needed to send it back before its one-year warranty expired.

I made this photo my desktop wallpaper before packing it up:

Continue reading “Three dozen.”

Red and White Day.

In my former home province of Québec, Montréal residents are pushing couches and fridges up those twisty death trap staircases. In the 4 years I lived in Montréal, I never had to move on what Québécois call Moving Day. There, if you decide on a moving date other than July 1st, you’re responsible for finding a new tenant to take over whatever remains of your lease.

It’s weird, I know.

Continue reading “Red and White Day.”