Well, here’s a little weekend weirdness. What is this a Jack-in-the-box? No, I think it’s a fun little play on the monthly gift of our female menstruation cycle. This was in the women’s restroom at a restaurant my husband and I had patronized. The gift that keeps on give…naw that’s ok, I’ll stop now ~
There is something satisfying about opening a new can of paint. You’ve squinted at that ridiculously tiny paint chip you brought home from the hardware store for days maybe weeks before deciding on it, trying to imagine the colour on the wall; it’s not until you pop off the lid to reveal the luscious colour do you feel confident in your choice. Hopefully.
Painting a room promises transformation, transposing the key of a space, infusing it with an entirely new atmosphere.
Painting a room can be cathartic, as refreshing as a mini holiday from the old familiar ambience, even a game changer. As it was when I took on my downstairs bathroom. I wanted to get out of the dark and into the light and the paint colour Bamboo was going to take me there.
The blue is a nice blue, sure, my husband’s choice when we renovated 4 years ago. I wanted to be supportive, you know, so he didn’t feel I was monopolizing the renovation with my choices. For 4 years I lived with this shade, feeling all the while it felt like a cave. It doesn’t help that the window is totally frosted so very little light comes through, (plan on changing the upper portion of the window to a clear glass, then let the light will flood in), and on our Vancouver rainy months it is dark in there.
Cue the Bamboo and voila the biffy is elevated to star status of light and warmth!
I keep going in to the room just to BE IN THE ROOM so I can gloat. I am pleased.
The ceiling is a mosaic I had done may years ago while left to my own devious devices one winter with boxes of old tiles and old mirrors. It is a river with two salmon running up to spawn.
Can you spot me lying on the floor taking the picture?
I’m on a roll of inspiration -Living room, kitchen and master bedroom is up next~
The Canadian Thanksgiving was this last weekend so I thought I would share a Turkey. I didn’t cook one this year, and since I took this Photo in September at the Animal Refuge Centre I couldn’t be so sure if he didn’t cooked, but then he’s in a Refuge-so probably not. Since my son and his wife were having turkey with his wife’s family on Sunday and then coming home here for dinner on Monday I cooked a Prime Rib roast and Yorkshire pudding instead, which we gobbled up with glee.
Week two of my island neighbourhood Spanish class and it went well! She covered numbers and we did some merchant/shopper roll playing and then the class ended on a musical note; two students brought a Spanish translated rendition of “Row, Row, Row your boat”. Next week they said we’ll sing it in the round. Uh huh, should be smooth! Anyway such fun to get together with my neighbors and learn something as a group. I love my little community, so fortunate to be in an enclave such as this. Oh and according to Duolingo I now possess 15% fluency in Spanish, whoo hoo!
I’m no stranger to the Spanish language, and not that I have any proficiency what so ever, but being born in California the school curriculum included Spanish, not sure if it still does as I’m talking some 45 years ago. My breath got caught just there.
I had it in junior high grades 7, 8 and as an elective in my junior year grade 9 at Huntington High, then my family moved to Canada where French was the dominant second language and was mandatory up to grade 10. I rather regret not taking advantage of that new language, but rather than jump in I stayed with what was familiar and was allowed to take Spanish by correspondence instead, which didn’t come to much since I had no one to practice with. When I got to grade 11 I took it as an elective. A side note about my Spanish teacher for that class, Mr. Gallagher, the first day of class he burst into the room holding a guitar, threw himself onto an empty desk and belted out La Cucaracha. He was an engaging teacher far and few between.
Later in life my husband and I traveled to Mexico a few times, one trip lasting three months backpacking and I took some Spanish tutoring, until our rented bikes were stolen one night and had to re pay the bike shop thus blowing my tutoring budget.
I took more classes in my town upon returning from that trip to keep the language alive. And again years later when I was employed at the University I recently retired from; one of our perks was exemption from tuition, so I had enrolled in a class that was compatible with my work schedule. One year.
One whole year, and I did o.k. but I struggled with exams and the finals. So obviously not quit getting it and I’m dismayed by this since this language and I go way (way) back.
So now a neighbor on my little island, who is originally from Colombia, has decided to hold Spanish classes at our community hall each Wednesday morning. It is beginner level and I am attending, along with 20 of my neighbors, and although I know a bit more to take her intermediate class she plans on following up with, rather than wait for that class I think I really need to begin the very basics again. I have 3 people in close proximity that I can practice with too, I want to get this, I want to speak another language and by gum I plan to master it!
Anyone else out there having second language learning issue and successes? Did you have to persevere for years to break ground? How did you finally break through the barrier?