August

August, the climax of the year. Trees are lush and heavy. The fruit is ripe. A carefree laziness fills the hours. For a precious few weeks we forget what day it is. Every day is exquisitely the same. Nothing to do but complain about the heat.

But soon enough, that satisfying contentment is shattered by one dreaded sentence; someone you like quite well may utter it, or perhaps a stranger wandering close enough to be heard: “You can feel that nip in the air.”

There it is, in its naked starkness like a sumptuous August tree in January. We all know it but are too prudent to speak the obvious: the heat wave has ended.

Yes, August is passing us by and we are heading into fall. And then the second nail in summer’s coffin:  One leaf floats down, drifting from side to side, landing right there.

Today is hot, August still full of promise. I enjoy the luxury of my favourite month in delicious solitude, only every so often allowing in close family and trusted friends.

They know full well there is to be no unmentionable utterances as we bask in the blissful afternoon sun.

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Vancouver City Hall

Not one drinking establishment an easy walk from City Hall. There used to be a lounge across the street. And a pub kitty corner in the City Square Mall.

Are those people running things actually sober?

There is a marijuana store.

Love this rainy day view.

Beautiful, isn’t it?

 

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straighten your tie

Some of the ladies like the casual look but how can you resist a man in a suit?

And there is nothing better than the tux. A man who can wear a tux like he’s in pyjamas; a lucky guy. Is it the underlying allure of pyjamas?

That’s the thing about a suit – all done up.

News anchors…  Sitting behind that desk, reading the news, as impervious as it gets;  armour, a barrier, no opening.

Who said ladies don’t like a challenge?

I would like her job.

Matt Bomer

There is something about a man straightening his tie.

One of my fellow bloggers grabbed my attention when he liked my site:

from Jesse Kerema’s blog “A Journey to Success”

Sadly, Roger Moore is gone. I liked him as James Bond but he wasn’t one of my favourites. Ultimately it’s how they wear the tux. The original – Sean Connery:

Not bad –

Honourable mention to Daniel Craig.

Daniel Craig as James Bond

My favourite 007 is Pierce Brosnan.

The Sun Rising by John Donne

BUSY old fool, unruly Sun,
Why dost thou thus,
Through windows, and through curtains, call on us?
Must to thy motions lovers’ seasons run?
Saucy pedantic wretch, go chide
Late school-boys and sour prentices,
Go tell court-huntsmen that the king will ride,
Call country ants to harvest offices;
Love, all alike, no season knows nor clime,
Nor hours, days, months, which are the rags of time.

Thy beams so reverend, and strong
Why shouldst thou think?
I could eclipse and cloud them with a wink,
But that I would not lose her sight so long.
If her eyes have not blinded thine,
Look, and to-morrow late tell me,
Whether both th’ Indias of spice and mine
Be where thou left’st them, or lie here with me.
Ask for those kings whom thou saw’st yesterday,
And thou shalt hear, “All here in one bed lay.”

She’s all states, and all princes I;
Nothing else is;
Princes do but play us; compared to this,
All honour’s mimic, all wealth alchemy.
Thou, Sun, art half as happy as we,
In that the world’s contracted thus;
Thine age asks ease, and since thy duties be
To warm the world, that’s done in warming us.
Shine here to us, and thou art everywhere;
This bed thy center is, these walls thy sphere.

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treat yourself

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bedtime reading

My asthma’s been acting up lately.

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Yes!

Hi Mum,
I thought you might like to see the roses I picked today. 🙂
LOVE YOU!!!
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martinis, the dirty kind

The Marina Del Rey Cheesecake Factory is entirely to blame for my current addiction. It was there on a dark and stormy night* last December where I first experienced the exquisite martini with blue cheese stuffed olives.

Never had I expected to consider any other martini but the classic:  Gin or vodka and vermouth, several pristine olives, preferably green queens, marinating in the crystal liquid.

Dirty martinis were an aberration, muddying what nature intended as sparkling and pure. The riff raft who ordered them were the very same vulgarians who call anything added to vodka in a stem glass a martini – lemon drop “martinis”, espresso “martinis”, for the tea lovers Earl Grey “martinis.”

After the 2-hour wait to deboard at LAX, navigating the chaotic terminal, something changed.

There it was.  Through the murky interior, 3 large green olives nestled inside the frosted glass. And I knew I had been waiting all my life for this deliciously sublime experience.

* Edward Bulwer-Lytton, Paul Clifford

pop out those pimentos or treat yourself to pitted olives from the deli bar

Mmmm

shaken not stirred

Cheers!

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Predicting the Future

Notice the message bottom of screen appearing when Patriots were on the 25 yard line, BEFORE they won the game with a touchdown.

20170206_092505

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It’s freezing in here.

Heritage buildings may not be known for their cozy interiors when it’s cold outside.

Sitting, working, freezing.

Those who shake my hand are freeze dried, frozen upright.

Odd that people I’ve known for years, who never cared to touch me in any way are reaching out, needing to make contact.

They chill. A subtle tremor is evident.

And they are thinking, I’ve known her all these years and I had no idea she was so Brrrrr cold.

It would probably go better if I shut the window.

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