Finally, my new hard drive has been installed, I have a fully functional computer again, and most important: I have Photoshop.

Back in May before everything asplode, I promised cottage photos.  I’ve only just begun, and they’ll take some time to get through, but here are a couple of panoramas from off the back deck.

If you’re interested, I’ll be uploading these and more images to a new album in the gallery.

Not only how I’m feeling these days, what with the whirlwind pace of my organic chemistry course, but also descriptive of this evening’s pottery session.
Anaïs and I mutually dominated the glazing table tonight. Here are the results of our handiwork, before firing. The two bowls in the front are Anaïs’, and the assorted stuff in the back is mine.

Yesterday was Biker Bob Memorial Day.

“Who the heck is Biker Bob and why are we supposed to remember him?” I hear you ask.

Well, Biker Bob was a rowdy, drunken, belligerent, and often smelly old bike messenger who used to work in the downtown core here in Toronto.  He also had a huge heart, which gave out on him one day at work, after a particularly nasty heat wave brought the smog and humidity to ridiculous levels.

Bob was, for all his faults, a kind and generous man, and an inspiration to many of us who worked out on the road with him.  He knew a thing or two about people, the way they tick, and he was a soft touch with the ladies and the young fresh faced kids just learning the ropes.  He didn’t care where you came from, who your folks were or what kind of a bike you rode; if you were good people, he was your buddy, and if you weren’t, well, he’d buy you a beer just the same.  He died doing what he loved, and he’s going to be missed down here for a long time.

Whether you knew him or not, tip a beer to him and all the ornery old buggers out there who bring a little honest good humour to the world.

Ethel pupated last night!

She spent all afternoon sewing her cocoon before finally pupating overnight.  Sid ate himself into a coma in celebration.