It's a brave New Autumn! That's an oxymoron, I suppose, but this year's fall foliage seems as fresh and lush as spring. My camera and photography skills (not to mention my pretentious captions, below) do it no justice. If you're in the neighbourhood, get thee out there and have a look (a sniff, says Freddie)!
But as long as you're here, look at the damn post first! :)
I call this one "Window of Opportunity," or, to steal from the Bard again, "This Brave O'erhanging Firmament."
"Art Imitates Life"
"The Birch Sheds Its Skin"
"Moon Over Grapes"
(That's a leaf hanging from a spider web, BTW.)
"Labradoodle in the Leaves"
OK, I ran out of pretentious creativity for that last one. On with the walk ...
The route that Freddie and I took this morning, combined with the fact that the film fest recently came to town, got me thinking about the Ridge Theatre.
For those not familiar with it, the Ridge is Vancouver's best repertory cinema. It's enormous. It's cheap. Its neon sign is a beacon at 16th and Arbutus, a filmgoers' Star of Bethlehem. The popcorn billows; the espresso machine hisses. The seats are lumpy, their upholstery stained in predictable ways. The marquee regularly boasts all-time faves like Casablanca (on Valentine's Day!), The Sound of Music, and — the incomparable, the magical, even on a pintzy TV set — The Wizard of Oz. Imagine! Those first moments of blazing Technicolor when Dorothy emerges from the house (O!) ... the yellow brick road, the flying monkeys, the poppies, the Emerald City ... all, at last, on the Big (HUGE) Screen! I love the Ridge.
And those of you in the know will have figured out that I'm using the present tense in the literary, not the literal, sense. (Either that, or you were thinking, Uh, Heather, don't you know?)
Here's what's left ....
Here's what's coming, I presume (looks like they're going to save the sign, at least).
Even the next-door 5-pin bowling alley, where Paul and I took our niece, Sally, for her 11th birthday ... gone.
New world? Yep.
ANYWAY .... moving right along ... Not far from the ruins of the Ridge, this little escapee dove into our path:
In hot pursuit were two kids, brother and sister. The brother called out, "Sorry! It's a Jack Russell!" — as if that explained everything. Which I guess it did, pretty much. Fortunately the dog — JJ, or maybe Gigi — liked Freddie, and really liked Freddie's treats, and the kids were able to get him/her back on leash. (Didn't want to include their faces without parental consent, but they were very sweet kiddies.)
Freddie and I carried on to Choices Market ... past the slightly creepy mechanical horse (which seemed to have been fed several bales of quarters, for it was "galloping" when we arrived and still going when we came out) ...
... to our primary destination: the chocolate aisle!
Now, see, if I eat the stuff with the super-high cocoa & fat content, it doesn't do much to my blood sugar. Fortunately, that's my favourite version. And if I get organic, fair-trade, raw, non-GMO, free-range, grass-fed, gluten-free, sprouted, virgin, kosher chocolate ... well, hell, I'll be up to my eyeballs in good karma. O, tantalizing grocery aisle that has such confections in it! (Freddie, as you can see, is less enthralled.)
Here we are back home, with our haul on the counter:
And here's what Paul showed up with, about an hour later (a little more ambitious in his quantities than I was):
"The Gift of the Magi," he said.
"Uh, sort of ...?"
"Not really, I guess."
"No ... not really."
The groceries of two people with really predictable shopping habits and lousy pre-noon communication.
Favourite recipes involving eggs, yogurt, chocolate, and cream, anyone?