Cabin Fever But Warm, Cosy Cabin Fever

We recently started using our family room fireplace again. After many years of sitting idle, the recent cold snap got us thinking of warm things.

Dash soon learned that the best seat in the house was right in front of the fire.

 We gathered some logs from the backyard woodpile.

Dash has been staying inside most of the time. He goes out for about 3 minutes and runs back in to lie by the fire.

To stave off boredom, Dash entertains himself with one of his re-found toys. This entire basketful was found by Wendy under two dressers in the basement. I wondered where they all went. Fifty two toys no less!
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Mary Pickford Drinks Coke 1911

This is my "artsy" pic for today. I fabricated a Coke poster from two old black and white pictures and gave it some colour to brighten it up. Did you know Mary Pickford (Gladys Smith) America's Sweetheart, was born in Toronto where the Hospital For Sick Children stands today? Read her story in Wikipedia here: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mary_Pickford
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Happy Valentine's Day

I bit into an apple and I was surprised to see two seeds that formed a heart.

"How Sweet Is That?"

Happy Valentine's Day.

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Googlemeister. A Virtual Visit.

Click the pic to enlarge.

Today's "artsy" pic is actually from Google Map's Street View. I was "virtually touring" around downtown Toronto on Street View when I came across this small crowd.  I embellished it a bit and put some new heads on the people that were blurred out.

The original picture is on 334 George Street, looking east. This area of Toronto was always a little tough, even when I lived there back in the 60's. Now there doesn't appear to be much left of what I remember, except for a few of the original old residences. One has to wonder how these poor souls are getting by in this recent extreme cold weather?

Here's another view from Google Street View. Despair would seem the norm here.

Through the magic of Google you can visit this spot yourself if you type in 334 George Street, Toronto.
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Timmy's New Tooth.

Success!

The implant I had a few months ago was successful and my dentist had a new porcelain crown made to fit. This morning I went in to get it installed. I marked it with an * so you can tell which one it is. It's so nice to be able to chew again on that side and think of all the Airmiles I get!

Beard gone.
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Moto Madness?

Next time you are griping about the traffic think of this video made in Taiwan:

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You Can't Make This Stuff Up.

There are some funny street names around and you can see quite a few if you go to Google Images and type "funniest street names"

I remember reading about the controversy when the city changed the name of Brick Street to Commissioner's Road in our town. Long ago the street I live on was Queen Street. When the city renamed Queen Street to Ridout Street there was such a rebellion that the portion of street were I live was renamed Upper Queen Street which apparently appeased the rebels.

I can only imagine the ridicule our city politicians would receive if they tried to re-label a street with the innocuous name of 80th Drive to Arlene Fuchs Katz Drive. And one way yet. No matter how endearing the woman was to the local population, I can not believe the residents would take this lying down. Even Chevy Chase might have something to say about it.

This new street is in the New York City suburb, Queens. Here is the announcement:

Street Renamed To Honor Local Leader
City Council member James Gennaro (D–Fresh Meadows) recently renamed 80th Drive in Jamaica Estates in honor of the late Arlene Fuchs Katz in memory of her dedicated service to the communities of Queens.
Gennaro said that among Katz’s many contributions to Queens was her service as a teacher at P.S. 131, Jamaica, leader in the United Federation of Teachers Union (UFT), a Community Board 8 member, and president of the Independent Democratic Club. Katz died this past January. Arlene Fuchs Katz Drive is now located at the corner of Chevy Chase Street and 80th Drive, Jamaica Estates.
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The Penny Is Still Alive In My Brain

For the past few years, for whatever reason, I've been using what I'll call the "Penny Gram Test". You won't find this brilliant pricing yardstick anywhere on the web since I made it up myself and have never told anyone about it until now.

I don't think I developed it because I'm frugal. It was just a desire to somehow measure or at least get my mind around what I am paying for groceries and snacks. Anyway you can take it for what it's worth, but I thought you might find it interesting. 

When you are in a store, contemplating the vast array of tempting food items, take a look at the weight in Grams. I use this weight as part of my decision making process on whether or not to put it in my basket. It doesn't matter if the weight is 1 pound (454 grams) or 8 ounces (225 grams) or what ever, but my secret gauge is how much it costs per the weight in grams.

I don't like chocolate or candies to cost much more than 1 cent per gram.

Currently I like the weight in grams to equal or exceed the cost in pennies. Therefore if a roast beef is less than 454 pennies ($4.54) per pound it's a bargain to me. A bag of candies is 100 pennies ($1) at the Dollarama and they offer 135 grams, I'm happy. If a giant sized chocolate bar weighs 300 grams and costs around 300 pennies ($3) I'll buy it, but not a box of chocolates which weighs the same 300 grams and costs 800 ($8). It even works for lightweight items like potato chips but not usually liquids. It won't usually work on "designer" brands or luxury foods like lobster either. It should work on alcoholic beverages (1.75 liters weighs about 1750 grams) but we'll never see $17.50 for a 60 ouncer of vodka in this country as long as the government monopolizes the price. (Ontario Liquor Board price is over 3¢ per gram) Robbers!  A lot of alcohol is less than a penny a gram in U.S.A.

There are of course other factors to be considered, like the quality and the pretty box, and whether or not I actually like the stuff.  This Penny Gram guideline seems to work for many food items and is useful in a place like Bulk Barn. If I go over my self-imposed limit of one gram = one penny that's OK too, but at least I know where I stand in relative terms. My simple algorithm has served me well for the past five years or so.

Try it next time you go shopping. If nothing else it will put the prices into perspective. It works for me.
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Image Changing Fail.

It's been a week and all I've accomplished is that I can fit in as a street person, maybe make a few bucks with a cardboard sign over at Wellington and Commissioner's. Perfect because I need a haircut too.

I don't think the professor or artist beardo image is going to work for me but I'll give it a few more days and we'll see. It looks like my facial hair is blotchy, varied in colour and uneven in growth; very much like my old mustache I had when I was in my twenties. At least it's not a reddy brown colour this time. "Buddy, can you spare a couple looneys for a beer?"
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It's Only Money!

Have you thought about an RV? Gas is cheap for now. It's on next weekend. Here's the web page: http://www.londonrvshow.com/

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An Overnight Snowfall Whitened Our World.

The snow last night was not heavy enough to paralyze the city but it certainly made things look nice.

It really started on Saturday night so on Sunday so we took a drive in the country. I love the look of the clean, new snow.

Dash even ventured out but not for long. He prefers to watch from inside.

A table for two near the window please.
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Which One Should I Try To Grow? Or Not!

I haven't shaved for the past few days (Thurs.) and I thought I'd see what colour my beard would grow. When I was in my twenties I had a silly moustache that was sort of reddy brown. I never did like it. I figure now, since what's left of the hair on my head is white that my facial hair would be white also. We can wait and see what it will look like or through the magic of computers I conjured up my own predictions.

What do you think? Which face do you like best? I'm thinking number 1.

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STUPID: Licorice Tartare.

It's only natural that a youngster would believe everything he was told, especially if told by his father. I don't know if it was my dad's Irish heritage that made him a great storyteller or whether his gift-of-the-gab came from his occupation as a traveling salesman, or his addiction to raising a glass or two, but he never ran out of interesting tales. My father, (friends called him Jake) John Edward Carroll's recollections sometimes harkened back to the 'dirty thirties' . Having been born in 1922 he was a youth through the terrible time of hardship known as the Great Depression.

His father, my grandpa, Patrick Carroll came from Ireland and settled in Hespeller Ontario finding work as a cabinet maker at a furniture factory after being wounded in WW1. The family lived a meager existence but at least he had a job so the family of 7 (including 3 boys and 2 girls) usually had food on the table. Radios were the 'high tech' items of the day and the factory produced beautifully crafted cabinets for Eaton's Department Store in Toronto.

My father told me of the days when my grandpa had to make a Christmas tree from a stick, drilling holes and gluing in evergreen branches. The story goes that times were tough and money so scarce that my dad and his younger brother Tom would chew on black tar that they found on the road.

At age 4 or 5 it didn't take too much imagination for me to think that road tar would taste something like black licorice. When the city works crew came by one summer day to fix the road, you can imagine how excited the local neighbour kids and I were when I explained that the smelly, black, syrupy road-crack-filler was actually a delicacy in the rough, just waiting for us to enjoy. Well, I can positively assure you that tar does NOT taste anything like licorice. Aside from the fact that it's black and gooey, we now know that it is full of carcinogens and other nasty chemicals. It also sticks relentlessly to anything it comes in contact with, including clothing, skin, hair and even teeth. 

I remember the unique blend of smells evolving from the home remedies my mother employed to deal with the indelible black mess I brought into the house. I learned that butter can be used to remove tar from sensitive areas like the hair on my head and my face near my eyes. Turpentine works on the hands and legs and clothing and shoes. Other relatively tame tar dissolvers include warmed (not too hot) lard, bacon grease or chicken fat-drippings, Vaseline or Vick's-Vapo-Rub, mineral oil; or vegetable cooking oil. Tougher, more drastic tar removers include white kerosene, paint thinner, mineral spirits, turpentine, alcohol or lamp-oil (not gasoline) and never near a flame or cigarette.

None of the above mentioned items are fun for either the giver or the receiver and my mother's anger was very apparent as I explained that "Dad said...".

I 'm sure my other friends were at the same time experiencing similar clean-ups and telling their mom's "Timmy Carroll said...".
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