Clean as a Whistle

On my recent trip to Toronto, I noticed that the city was very clean - and I think I know why. May I present exhibit A....a duster, lying there waiting to be picked up and put to use. I'm betting if I had more time to wander the city, I would've noticed more of these little pink puppies. I think it must be some Toronto law that, when you spot one, you must pick it up and do a little dusting before dropping it off at a new home, maybe a few blocks from where you found it. I'm thinking this is a very smart idea and one that I may put into practice in my home. If I scatter cleaning products through out my house, a duster here, a Magic Eraser there, perhaps guests would feel compelled to pick them up and do a few minutes of work. Worth a shot, right?

Blame it on Ernie...(he's the one)

OK, I think many of you already know, I love taking bubble baths. This activity has become my little moment of solitude. A time to reflect on the passing day, think about future writings and plot evil deeds. Ooops, did I just let my dark side show?!
Actually, I rarely plot evil deeds in the bath, it would be too hard to hold onto a set of blueprints in the tub, which for some reason are always a part of evil deed plotting, or maybe that's just in cartoons? I'm also not one of those who can read while soaking in the suds...I really don't get how that works, how do you flip the pages with wet hands?!! I suppose one could hire a Jeeves type of person to handle such tasks, but I'm a slow reader and it would just get uncomfortable, me trying to read quickly, skipping lines to speed up the process and Jeeves using his mental stopwatch to time me, all the while thinking, 'seriously, how long does it take to read 1 page!'
The pressure would be far too great for me, my moment of relaxation would be lost, as would the plot of the story.
Then of course there would be the worry of the bubbles disappearing, my once full tub o'suds would eventually become just a few bubbles floating flat on the surface....embarrassing both me and Jeeves. So, reading is out as part of the ritual, but I haven't completely thrown out the idea of having some company with me.
In walks, (or waddles) RD into my life. RD aka Rubber Duckie is now apart of my ritual. I spotted him at the store a couple of months ago, and I couldn't resist his charms, granted he drove a red sports car - a clear sign of a mid-life crisis,(though I can't say that I'm familiar with the life span of a duck) but he did sport some cool goggles and had a jaunty way about him, I knew we were meant to be together. Since then me and RD have become fast friends, and the fact that he can't turn pages is of little concern to me, because he brings a smile to my face each time I step in the tub.
Oh and there is no worry about RD seeing me naked as the bubbles fade, he assures me that his goggles are of the very outdated prescription variety. RD wouldn't lie, would he? Though I have noticed that he always has a smile on his face.....hmmm....

Reading the Signs

Polite words by Lennon and McCartney

Reading the Signs

Isn't this taking the whole CSI thing a little far?! I would be very leary of ordering a meat dish here....eeewwwww!!

Reading the Signs

Coal Harbour - Vancouver
Fish and chics...would you like any vinegar with that me darlin'? Hmmm....I wonder if they wrap themselves in newspaper to keep warm?

I'm a Big Kid Now!

Drum roll please.......cue the music, have the dude ready to jump out of the cake....balloons in place. Crustless sandwiches chilled - check. Tiny cakes stacked on that 'I only use for special occasions' plate - check. Good quality, non-bending paper plates on the table, next to the 'look pretty, but feel stiff' napkins, right along side the acrylic, yet classy, goblets and of course the plastic, but heavy feeling utensils to finish off the scene. Oh it does seem like we have something to celebrate doesn't it?!
Well indeed we do! We are now at the year two mark of the releasing of Secret Agent Mel out of her cage!! Two years since I let the secret out, the secret that I write.
Now I have to admit, in the past year it may've seemed like I've been on a bit of a sabbatical from my secret agent duties because I haven't been blogging as often, and in some ways I guess I have. The picture is a little bigger than just a leave from my blog, I think it would be accurate to say that I've been on a sabbatical from life in general, well life as I knew it anyways.
I've been riding on a hell of a bumpy road these past twelve months, but I've held on tight throughout and I've arrived at my new destination. To me, it feels like weathering a great storm, and then being rewarded with a beautiful rainbow at the end.
Well my rainbow comes in the form of my decision to write a book. You heard right, a book!! Only two years ago, I barely had the courage to tell a select group of friends that I started a blog and now I'm announcing that I plan to write a book and attempt to get it published!! So far nobody has called me crazy - so far. Mind you, being call such a thing would never stop me anyways, where's the fun in being normal and predictable I ask? Exactly!

Many of my friends knew that I wrote poetry, but the fact that I wanted to actually write a book someday, well that I kind of kept to myself. Only recently did I let it be known that I was planning on writing a book, and I should also mention that it was only recently that I informed myself too. The thought of becoming a writer has probably crossed my mind hundreds of times since my first book attempt at about age 9. It never really left my mind, just faded into the background a bit, mostly because I just never thought it was possible for me to do such a thing. I've recently come to the conclusion that one of the biggest things holding me back was knowing that I couldn't write the types of books that I'd read in the past, nor did I really want to either. I don't think I have the patience or interest that it would take to develop a plot, a cast of characters. interesting locations etc, and be able to keep all of that straight. I'm afraid that's just not how my brain works at all, lets just say my noggin's a bit more free-form! I admire people who can write that way, it must take a great deal of concentration and although my mind is a little scattered, I am smart enough to know that, that's just not my schtick! Trouble was, I didn't ever entertain the thought that my schtick, as is, could also be something that people wanted to read. To be honest, I never really even clued in to what was housed in the 'humour' section at the book store. I just knew it as the place to pick up copies of books that were compiled collections of comic strips, I never thought of that section as also containing 'story' type books.
Back in the day when I rode the SkyTrain everyday, it seemed that the commuters were reading either a romance novel or one of those 'whodunit'/medical/law novels. Just the thought of a romance novel makes me shudder, I can't even get past the cover - sorry Fabio. To write a mystery, medical or law novel, well I'm thinking you might need to know a thing or two about those areas.
So why now you may ask, after all of this time have I finally decided to make my 'official' attempt at hammering out a book. The first part of the answer I would attribute to my Sally Field, Oscar moment, 'I can't deny the fact that you like me, right now, you like me'.
For the past 2 years friends and strangers alike have read my words and given me praise. Through your notes of encouragement, I have discovered that you have felt a connection to my thoughts, giggled at my madness, dug my quirkiness and not once did you question my sanity - at least not publicly. Even when I revealed that in the intro of my book, I have a dream-like sequence with Frank Sinatra singing my resume, followed by references to Willy Wonka, Charlie Brown, calculus, and binary fission, still nobody flinched!!
Well if that doesn't scare you off, there's no stopping me.
The second part of the answer to 'why now' is the fact that, as I've mentioned, the past 12 months have been probably the most difficult that I've ever been through.

~lower the porch scene, turn the fans on low and insert the crickets chirping sound effect....now you need to picture me in a rocking chair, sipping my mint julep, and as you read this next bit, please do so with a heavy southern accent in your head...
'I have neither the time, nor the inclination to rehash of all that nastiness', 'I simply will say, what doesn't kill you, might just push you towards your dreams'.
....Southern Belle (aka me), turns her head towards the screen door and says, 'Charles, be a dear won't you and fetch me another mint julep', 'I do declare this heat makes a lady mighty thirsty'.

So yeah, the other reason is basically when much of your world as you know it crumbles and falls, you have one of two choices, either lie down in the rubble until someone rescues you, or get up, shake the dust off and start working towards rebuilding your world. I chose to do the latter, what better opportunity to redesign things a little.

I hope you will join me in the celebration of my second birthday. Starting this blog two years ago, has given me a place to release some of the gazillion thoughts that whirl in my head. I need to give a special shout out to my dear and lovely friend Sande, who was the one that first suggested that I should start a blog. Spurned on at the time, by the fact that she found my emails amusing and basically said, 'you should write a blog'. I of course thought she was mad, but there you have, she was pretty sane after all. As soon as I started this blog, I realized quickly that even if no one ever laid eyes on it, it didn't really matter. What mattered most, was I had somewhere 'official' to write my words....paper napkins took a backseat - though I still use them!
The second shout out has to go the sweet and kind Editor of the Langley Advance, Bob Groeneveld, who was the first one to put in type, 'you are a writer'!!! Upon first reading those words I did wonder if he had a drinking problem, but I have since learned to embrace that fact, that I really have felt since I was a child, 'I WAS a writer'. I contacted Mr. Groeneveld about a year ago, with an email that had the subject title 'I CAN'T TAP DANCE!'....it went on to explain a few other things that I can't do, along with a few links to my blog.
I asked him, if he'd be so kind to sometime, have a look at my work and give me his opinion. I explained to him that I knew I needed to work on the 'technical' side of things, and I'm still working on that, but I wanted his honest opinion regarding if I had any real talent as a writer, stylistically. I pressed the 'send' button on that email, then I had a bit of a neurotic Woody Allen moment, the feeling of 'what did I do that for!' I was in full Charlie Brown loser mode! I didn't tell anyone what I had done, I just assumed they'd all see the Langley Advance headline soon enough....
Enter : Dickens era, young capped newsboy -
...Extra! Extra! Read all about it, local Langley woman thinks she's a writer - Editor injures himself from laughing so hard!
The crowds would gather around the newsboy and soon he would disappear in a sea of people desperate to read the tale of such a fool. Oh the horror!!
So I was more than pleasantly surprised when I got Bob's first email, and there wasn't a mention of personal injury anywhere, now that's what I call a victory!
The rest as they say, is history. So I shall continue to write, but my writing time will be divided between this blog and my attempt to compile a collection of short stories, to hopefully be transformed into a book by years end. Fingers and toes crossed.
A sincere thank you to each and every one of you who have taken the time to read my words, and to the many of you who have also taken the time to send me your thoughts about them. You're a big ol' bunch o' sweet peaches, and it's very much appreciated.
I hope you will continue with me on my journey, best to fasten your seat belts though, you never know what the road ahead has in store for you!

Strangers in the Night....

...exchanging glances. Well actually none of these photos were taken at night and rarely were glances exchanged. These kinds of images have become some of my favourite style of photos to take. I love the idea of having pretty much no control over what I will happen upon or how the final result will look. With each of these photos, I probably had no more than 5 seconds from the time I spotted the scene until the time the image you see was captured. If you so much as took the time to recite the alphabet it would've been an opportunity missed - not that I normally just pick random moments to recite the alphabet, but I think you get the point. Thinking about that, on occasion I do find the need to recite the alphabet, it seems to be the only way that I can remember the correct order of the last quarter of it...I do believe the ABC portion gets more than it's fair share of promotion, I think I should start a campaign for XYZ to get some compensation for being so neglected!
I digress...back to my love of strangers. There is something somewhat sinister sounding to the last bit of that sentence. Never mind, I learnt long ago to accept that strangers and strange situations, play a big part in my life - sometimes for better and sometimes for worse, but it always keeps life interesting! In fact, just recently I was sharing my love for strangers with someone who, up until recently, was a stranger to me - until one day when 'Man' from Montreal commented via Myspace on one of these very such SAM blogs and since then we have kept in regular contact. Man and I are now friends, so indeed strangers can be very good, we share a similar 'odd to most' way of thinking and we also share the joy of watching strangers in their natural habitat. As I like to capture these creatures through photographs, I have the proof to show their existence.
Here's my thoughts on the images shown.

The first image was taken on a smokin' hot day in Bellingham, this woman just looked so serene, I pretended to be taking a shot of the islands in the distance before pointing my lens (quickly) at her...literally 2 seconds later she got up. I wish I knew who she was, I think it would be a nice photograph for her to have - it could put her in a Zen-like state when life isn't offering a Zen-like day.



Next we have, a fella that I lovingly refer to as, 'Mop Man', taken on the ferry en route to Tofino. Normally we'd take the ferry from Horseshoe Bay to Nanaimo, but I had a hankering to leave from Tsawwassen instead...strictly because, those are the kind of hankerings I get, some folks may get a 'hankering for a hunk o' cheese', but I tend to get the non calcium kind of hankerings. As it turns out, this crossing is the XYZ of crossings...hence the lack of cars and the chance for Mop Man to make his appearance - I thought he cut a rather striking silhouette!
.
Moving onto man reading in park, Bear Creek park to be exact and although he needn't really worry about a bear attacking him whilst he reads his book, he may want to consider, teen jumping out of bush and mugging him! This is why he got my attention, I could never just chill like that alone in those kind of surroundings, I would need to be aware and alert. He seemed to be lost in the words before him.
I remember years back I was travelling on my own, and while in Germany, I was sitting along the bank of the Rhine River writing poetry and every now and then I'd think...'if I went missing right now, would anybody notice?', then I further pondered the chances of me being 'young adult-napped' and just continued writing. That day I wrote about 3 poems, which was good considering the amount of time I also pondered things like, 'I wonder if Hitler ate here, bought shoes there, plotted evil deeds here'. I know, I know, I've watched way too many WWII documentaries!

Back to Bellingham for the next shot, same smokin' hot day. This poor guy must have lost 20lbs in sweat by the end of the day, he was like a pack mule. I took his photo to remind myself to pack light...a lesson I know well, yet still seem to break, despite being well travelled...check out my June 2008 post 'Can You Give Me a Hand', for a glaring example of my stupidity. It will make you laugh, it will make you cry...now being repeated in select cities, check your local listings.

Next, we have a fine example of how the wrong camera settings can make the right image, that is the reason I love this one so much. Taken at the Abbotsford Airshow, inside a bomber plane. You had to enter at one end by ducking down, or in my case, just bending my head slightly. After I straightened up, this lovely lady at the end was the first thing I saw. I quickly popped my lens cap off, turned on my camera and had just enough time for this quick shot...no chance to adjust any settings at all. I'm glad in happened that way, as to me, there is something ethereal about this photo, especially in contrast with the subject matter. The top of the bomber is fairly sharp while near the bottom of the photo it is quite blown out and hazy, like she's fading. It represents for me how the bomber takes away lives, maybe no one else will see it this way, but I always think of life and death when I look at this photo.

Leaving somber behind, we're back at the park. I just loved how this gentlemen looked, very 'On Golden Pond', This was a tough one to get. I needed an accomplice - enter in oldest son, who is more than used to the mad ways of his mother. We were on the next bench over, only about 10 feet from this man and I was trying not be obvious, so in my spy-worthy manner, I called Gavyn (aka Agent Red)over. I told him to sit beside me so I could point the camera in the direction of 'Henry Fonda', then I told him when I say 'now' move back quick!! Nice shot of self esteem for my son - sit nice for me, and then get the h-e-double hockey sticks out of my way while I photograph a stranger....ah not to worry, I took loads of photos of him later, and gave him a five bucks to keep quiet if he was ever to find himself under the heat of the interrogation light. Nothing a little therapy won't sort out later in life.

Nearing the end we have Don Corleone, who looked incredibly fabulous, and out of place up in Whistler this summer. He had to be European, a dead give away is the fact that despite the heat that day, he was thumbing his nose to comfort and going for complete style...love that! Very much a man of that generation, similar to how, in photos from the 1950's my male relatives in Britain, would remove their suit jackets at the beach to show they were 'kickin' back', the wilder ones would sometimes even unbutton their shirt sleeves and roll them up - a sure sign of rebellion.


The last of my strangers is Goose from Top Gun, again at the airshow. I'm pretty sure I heard someone ask him where the washrooms were and as you can see by his pose, he's giving them the 411. Again, maybe it's just me, but I prefer to think he has just spotted the Luftwaffe in the distance, and is telling me, Secret Agent Mel that danger is near. Anyone with me on that one? With that, I do start to wonder, who is stranger?, me or the strangers?? I think I'll just leave that one alone.