Just found this site:
http://www.damninteresting.com/
Through this article:
http://www.damninteresting.com/americas-secret-plan-to-invade-canada/
Indeed.
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
Monday, May 30, 2011
Pictures of stuff!
Welcome to Venice
One of my favorite little islands around Venice.
Our hotel room - we stayed one night. There's something about Venice that makes this sort of kitschy display okay - not as good as a canal view, but okay....
I never did figure out what the second toilet is for... could be urinal, but why have hot and cold taps on a urinal? Bewildering toilets the globe over!
One of the cool things about Venice is that people do seem to be comfortable wearing unique clothing, in a way I've never seen anywhere else. Especially since the unique clothing here tends to be awesome, instead of weird.
Us! See! I didn't just steal these off flickr.... anyway, that's my favorite dome/church in Venice. They actually have a sign inside saying that no church should ever charge admission.
The view from the point of the Grand Canal.
Venice at night. It has long been an intention of mine to stay in Venice at night. Everything calms down after the 20,000 day-trippers leave.
Me, in front of my favorite Dome.
The small island, at night.
Next morning, we discovered this church (adjoining white building is a hospital.) I didn't know about it. Cool red brick gothic structure.
Hope you enjoyed.
Today's triva - Tomatoes come from South America (the word "tomato is incan...) and were brought to Europe only as recently as the 1500's.
Preview of Coming Attractions
I'm currently living in the house Ian Flemming lived in for something like six years of his childhood. I will post pictures one of these days.
This blog is becoming a strange mix of past, present and future. Past adventures, past thoughts, present hints, future hopes.
Or does that make me sound like a tosser? (which is a great English word, by the way.)
This blog is becoming a strange mix of past, present and future. Past adventures, past thoughts, present hints, future hopes.
Or does that make me sound like a tosser? (which is a great English word, by the way.)
Friday, May 27, 2011
Update from the fire escape
I suppose the first thing I should say is that I'm just sitting on the fire escape because I get the wifi here, and because it's a nice perch. I love a nice perch. Sea Bass is better in sushi, admittedly...
Anyway, it's late, and the gothic-style arched windows project a yellow glow into the dark and moonless night. Kind of like this:
From Braziers' park website. (yes, this is where we are staying, by the way)
But that's not important. I want to tell you about someone I've met. I've spent the last few days mostly helping in the kitchen and reading on my own time, but that's not important. I've also been talking to Nonny.
Nonny is one of those people. I don't know how to do her justice in writing. I don't really know how to do anyone justice, but certain people bring that realization to the fore with all the subtlety of German erotica.
Nonny was a teacher of classics and religion.
Nonny lived through World War Two. She remembers having a sweets ration once a month. "It didn't go very far." She thinks, "It must be very odd, for your grandparents, to not have been in a war."
Nonny was married to a Classics professor at University of Bristol.
Nonny's grandfather was a teacher of French history, and went insane, convinced he was Napoleon.
Nonny loves her garden.
Nonny has the right to call African-Europeans black. She doesn't know this, but I have accorded her this right. Why? Because she spent many, many years teaching African-European kids from the poorer parts of London. She loved them. She calls them black.
She was teaching religion - teaching the nativity, and one of the boys raised his hand and said "Miss, why did the angels appear to the shepherds." She said she didn't know. After a couple of suggestions, one cockney in the back of the class tentatively raised his hand, and said "perhaps it was just that they were the only ones awake, it being the middle of the night."
Nonny worked as a decoder and translator during World War Two. She learned Military Japanese, and translated it for the English.
Nonny loves to talk about her life, and I love to listen, though I will admit it can be exhausting. One has the feeling one has lived another life, and it's tiring enough to live once.
I hope she will forgive me that I have not done her justice.
Anyway, it's late, and the gothic-style arched windows project a yellow glow into the dark and moonless night. Kind of like this:
From Braziers' park website. (yes, this is where we are staying, by the way)
But that's not important. I want to tell you about someone I've met. I've spent the last few days mostly helping in the kitchen and reading on my own time, but that's not important. I've also been talking to Nonny.
This is Nonny (from the blog of another volunteer)
Nonny is one of those people. I don't know how to do her justice in writing. I don't really know how to do anyone justice, but certain people bring that realization to the fore with all the subtlety of German erotica.
Nonny was a teacher of classics and religion.
Nonny lived through World War Two. She remembers having a sweets ration once a month. "It didn't go very far." She thinks, "It must be very odd, for your grandparents, to not have been in a war."
Nonny was married to a Classics professor at University of Bristol.
Nonny's grandfather was a teacher of French history, and went insane, convinced he was Napoleon.
Nonny loves her garden.
Nonny has the right to call African-Europeans black. She doesn't know this, but I have accorded her this right. Why? Because she spent many, many years teaching African-European kids from the poorer parts of London. She loved them. She calls them black.
She was teaching religion - teaching the nativity, and one of the boys raised his hand and said "Miss, why did the angels appear to the shepherds." She said she didn't know. After a couple of suggestions, one cockney in the back of the class tentatively raised his hand, and said "perhaps it was just that they were the only ones awake, it being the middle of the night."
Nonny worked as a decoder and translator during World War Two. She learned Military Japanese, and translated it for the English.
Nonny loves to talk about her life, and I love to listen, though I will admit it can be exhausting. One has the feeling one has lived another life, and it's tiring enough to live once.
I hope she will forgive me that I have not done her justice.
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
TL/DR: Funniest sight in the universe contender: Drunk people (try to) set up a tent.
A view from the roof of the house we stayed in in Italy. That's the nearest village (Santa Brigida) - nearest bus stop, nearest grocery store, etc.
Hiking through the wooded hills of Tuscany, behind the house.
More views from the rooftops. I feel really sorry for those of you who still live in Santa Clarita, and don't get clouds, or trees.
Soon to come: France! (but maybe after Venice... we'll see...)
I will not neglect my blog. I will not neglect my blog. I will not neglect my blog. I will not neglect my blog. I will not neglect my blog...
Sorry about the neglect. Let's see... updates... (pictures will come later today, so long as the rapture holds off a few more hours...)
Security patrol went very smoothly. I did discover one of the most amusing sights in the universe: drunk and/or high people trying to set up a tent at 11:30 PM. When you can't figure out which side of your tent is the floor, you might have a problem.
There was a fair bit of litter (this being the UK's greenest festival, had to comment on that) but less than other comparable festivals, and the litter was picked up pretty quickly.
Hmmmm.... other stuff that's been going. Just finished Guns, Germs, and Steel. Fascinating book, absolutely fascinating - highly recommended reading.
Had an interesting discussion about feminism and the future of feminism, what the bra-burning movement meant, etc.
That's about it. Moved firewood and a caravan yesterday. That was fun. Day off today, which sure feels nice.
Security patrol went very smoothly. I did discover one of the most amusing sights in the universe: drunk and/or high people trying to set up a tent at 11:30 PM. When you can't figure out which side of your tent is the floor, you might have a problem.
There was a fair bit of litter (this being the UK's greenest festival, had to comment on that) but less than other comparable festivals, and the litter was picked up pretty quickly.
Hmmmm.... other stuff that's been going. Just finished Guns, Germs, and Steel. Fascinating book, absolutely fascinating - highly recommended reading.
Had an interesting discussion about feminism and the future of feminism, what the bra-burning movement meant, etc.
That's about it. Moved firewood and a caravan yesterday. That was fun. Day off today, which sure feels nice.
Sunday, May 22, 2011
Today's Top Tip
How to get out of jury duty:
Either:
Respond to as many questions as possible with "That's what she said."
or
Leave the country.
The second may be a little drastic.
I will, of course, expect a full report on the results, should anyone attempt solution 1.
Anyway, last night I worked in the Thuderfrog - our little RV/Camper based food selling vehicle at the rock festival. I was selling Potato Curry and Nan. Banged my head on the overhang twice. Here are some observations I found interesting. Due to brain damage, they may not be interesting to anyone else:
I did not expect a kind of Berkley eco-rock hipster-hippie rock festival to include so many parents with children. I wonder how many people are aware of the fact that the hipsters seem to be breeding.
They didn't seem like bad parents - just interestingly hypocritical ones. The same parents that, at 5:00PM were trying to make sure their children didn't eat anything as non-vegan as yogurt, or as processed as white flour, were back by 7:30, hunting for any booth selling hot chocolate and/or cake.
That is certainly a representation of the exaggerated minority, though. Most of them were just parents as I always seem to see parents - people with small, controlling appendages attached to one or two arms, with a look in their eyes that says either:
Dear heavenly powers and angels protecting us, if I do not get this child something sweet, I will not hear the end of it, I will go insane, and throw a brick of cocaine on the bonfire.
Or:
Dear heavenly powers and angels of whatevertheheckyoube, I need something sweet, but I can't admit it. Luckily I have a kid, and can get myself some chocolate, while it just seems like I'm being a good Dad. That's what good Dads do, right? Give their kids Chocolate? Oh, who cares. Chocolate... chocolate...
I'm not sure which it is yet. I'll let you know if I figure it out.
Tonight, I have security detail, wandering around dealing with parents who have briefly misplaced their cocoa-smeared appendages. I'll report back tomorrow.
Dear heavens and angelicky powers, I hope this doesn't become a Bill-Brysonesque cynical expose.
Either:
Respond to as many questions as possible with "That's what she said."
or
Leave the country.
The second may be a little drastic.
I will, of course, expect a full report on the results, should anyone attempt solution 1.
Anyway, last night I worked in the Thuderfrog - our little RV/Camper based food selling vehicle at the rock festival. I was selling Potato Curry and Nan. Banged my head on the overhang twice. Here are some observations I found interesting. Due to brain damage, they may not be interesting to anyone else:
I did not expect a kind of Berkley eco-rock hipster-hippie rock festival to include so many parents with children. I wonder how many people are aware of the fact that the hipsters seem to be breeding.
They didn't seem like bad parents - just interestingly hypocritical ones. The same parents that, at 5:00PM were trying to make sure their children didn't eat anything as non-vegan as yogurt, or as processed as white flour, were back by 7:30, hunting for any booth selling hot chocolate and/or cake.
That is certainly a representation of the exaggerated minority, though. Most of them were just parents as I always seem to see parents - people with small, controlling appendages attached to one or two arms, with a look in their eyes that says either:
Dear heavenly powers and angels protecting us, if I do not get this child something sweet, I will not hear the end of it, I will go insane, and throw a brick of cocaine on the bonfire.
Or:
Dear heavenly powers and angels of whatevertheheckyoube, I need something sweet, but I can't admit it. Luckily I have a kid, and can get myself some chocolate, while it just seems like I'm being a good Dad. That's what good Dads do, right? Give their kids Chocolate? Oh, who cares. Chocolate... chocolate...
I'm not sure which it is yet. I'll let you know if I figure it out.
Tonight, I have security detail, wandering around dealing with parents who have briefly misplaced their cocoa-smeared appendages. I'll report back tomorrow.
Dear heavens and angelicky powers, I hope this doesn't become a Bill-Brysonesque cynical expose.
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