F 1 D 0 -- 02 04 28 at 01 15

Gosling Park.

Yes, this evening I went to see Gosford
Park. You should see it too. 

Oh, if you are going to see a murder
mystery in the Olde English Style, 
don't bother with That. This is a movie
you go to see because you are curious
about how rich people do their rich
thing. And about how servants do their
servants thing.

It takes place in 1932. We watch the
world through the eyes of a young 
sweet Scottish girl. And Gosford Park
is a place where people come out to
shoot. 

Now, one man has come out from Hollywood,
and he shoots Charlie Chan pictures. And
funny, he's working on a picture which happens
in London, in a place just like this one is.

And I'm thinking that someone
will certainly get shooted to
death in this movie. Nope.

The reason they've all come out,
ostensibly, is shoot pheasant.

That was a part I really didn't
like a whole lot. It looked so 
real to me. You see these things
flitting across the sky. You hear
a bang. They stop flitting, and 
just kind of shake as they fall
down. The trained dogs go and bring
the fowl in.

It looked real. Hey, this is a murder
mystery, right? Right.

But like all good who-dun-its, we can suspect
everyone. Yes, Everyone. We listen in on their
awful chatter, and find out that everyone has
some kind of secret. 

Go see it. Don't expect it to be rich
in mystery. But you'll like it.

At the cinema, they are still showing
Lord of the Rings, Amelie, A Beautiful
Life, Murder by Numbers, and a few others.

This place needs business. They do free
films for kids on weekends. Actually, free
for everyone, at 1pm and 3pm. I didn't see
what was billed for tomorrow. Was it Shrek?
I've not seen that yet.

I went to the Acoustic Folk and Blues practice
today. I always like going. And I think I'm
starting to get the hang of it. Oh, they do
the same stuff over and over sometimes. But
often people bring something new. The routine
is like this. It is Ian's turn, and he'll announce
"This is in A. I'll take the blame." 

Now I don't know anything about that, but 
I can handle a melody in A. Once I hear
it, I find it strangely familiar. In fact,
while I don't know the words, I already know
the chords, and within a moment, I seem to
know the melody too. See what I mean? I'm
starting to get this.

He'll do the first verse, and the rest of
us plink along, so we can hear. He'll do the
first chorus, but we'll all make more noise,
joining in. 

Then the solos begin. Depending on the piece,
he'll go around the circle, asking each of us
with his eyes only, whether we can handle playing
a verse. During this, the rest of the circle
will play quietly. Sometimes it is harmonious,
and other times, it is an attempt to learn the
song before it is our turn to solo. 

He'll cast a gaze at me, and I nod back. I'm
armed with my fiddle, and ready to go. 

After I solo, I'm tired. I don't do harmony
or anything for a verse. But that is all it
takes, then I'm rested, and can do chording
again.

Colosimo's is full of electronic piano things.
I like them. I'm good on this too. But I prefer
the stretch of playing the recorder, or the fiddle
when it is my turn. Not sure why.

Have I told you I like the warehouse store here?

Before the vegetables begin to attract mould
and flies, they offer them for sale. Today they
had many big bags of tomatoes. I bought five pounds
for about 2 dollars. Yes!

So today's food involved a quick sauce of fresh
tomatoes and basil. I was thinking it was a lasagne
day, but decided that I'd keep it light. Besides, I
had some leftover rice and some chick peas too, and
so I just tossed it all together. If I'm still in a
mood for baked pasta, I still have lots of tomatoes.

This was a short week.

Monday and Tuesday were spent driving north. You know,
I'm starting to get used to the long drive. There was
a time when I thought the ride from Toronto to Huntsville
was too long. Now? Parry Sound is really just the first
rest stop for a bathroom. 

Our next door neighbours here say they can do Thunder
Bay to Toronto in One Long Trip. Well, I can see that.
But the rest half way is good. And thinking about this,
I really like to stop for air and walkies every two 
hours. My gas foot gets stiff. My hip and the bun
underneath that gets stiff too. So it doesn't really
hurt when I'm driving, but if I leave it for too long,
I have mucho trouble getting out and walking. In fact,
I moan audibly as I walk the first few steps.

On the greyhound, this never happens. There are three
steps of regular size on the way out the bus, and two
stainless rails. So I practically sprint out of the bus,
and use the monkey bars provided to assist a long jump
out of the vehicle. Then I'm off to a running start.

I like doing that. 

I'm wondering how I'd feel getting out of a very small
car after a long ride. You know, one of them cars where
your knee is a few inches from your nose?

For our last trip to and from Toronto, I packed some 
food, so we didn't have to do the road food so much. 
As we leave Toronto, I went to What A Bagel. This place
is not just a bakery. They have a conveyor which doles
out hot bagels from inside it. They used to be 25c each,
but even now, at 3.49 a dozen, it is a good thing. They
are *very* hot. We eat one right away.

We eat the next ones with smoked salmon and cream cheese
later. This time around, "later" meant Barrie, Ontario.

Not only did we locate the still warm bagels, but we
also decided to see what makes Barrie so special.

Barrie has a history of Drinking. Not water. Alcohol.

They were *very* affected by the Prohibition. Now, places
like Orillia was a "dry town" for a lot longer, but people
in Barrie truly disliked not being able to go into drinking
establishments. While some people were charged with alcohol
offenses (like making homemade liquor, or selling it), it
was these cases which caused the local government to decide
that the people were making a statement, wanting more drink.

So even today, Barrie is a place to go and get drunk.

Ok, maybe not. But others I've spoken to about the town
say that's what the people do.

Ann and I found a gallery of Contempory Art. It was
actually very nice. 

Peter von Tiesenhausen had a piece
called Bronze there. This is humour!

When you look at it, you see a canoe. It is held
together with twigs and string. Well, it is NOT
twigs. It is really cast out of bronze, and has
been carefully coloured again so it looks just
like the original twigs and string and such.

The work is convincing. I hear 
such bronzing costs a mint.

There were some Artist's Models of larger
sculpture. Even these were quite big in my
very humble opinion.  I am attracted to things
which are painted in primary colours, and many
of the things on display were in bright yellow,
bright blue, and bright red. 

Describing contemporary work beyond the colour
takes a skill I don't have. Many of the pieces
had a natural strength about them. This isn't
that they were strong, but they looked strong,
and that was part of the art, I suppose.

Do you make a peanut butter cookie that 
tastes strong of peanuts or peanut butter?
Perhaps something which is soft after it is
done? I should look into my cookbooks, "Beat
this" and "Beat that". They claim to have the
best of the best. Modest huh?

But what I seek is a cookie which says "Peanut"
when you bite it. Oh, it would be nice if the
fat content doesn't frighten a modern doctor
of bariatrics. 

My last batch? It had 
2c quick oats
.5c flour
1c crunchy peanut butter, high fat
1c icing sugar
1c peanuts, raisins, almonds mix (mostly peanuts)
.5c flax (I use flax in lots of things)
2 eggs
enough milk to make the mixture sloppy in the bread machine

Anyway, the result isn't too hard, but
only tastes like peanuts for the first
half a bite. That's it. Then it is just
a cookie. 

That's all I know.