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.