Author: carin
orwellian times
Flipping through a collection of Orwell’s novels I notice that all but one opens with a reference to the time of day. And two begin in April. I’ve never studied him… perhaps this is common knowledge and I’m among the last to be amazed.
♦
Burmese Days (1934)
“U Po Kyin, Sub-divisional Magistrate of Kyaukfad, in Upper Burma, was sitting in his veranda. It was only half past eight, but the month was April, and there was a closeness in the air, a threat of long, stifling midday hours.”
A Clergyman’s Daughter (1935)
“As the alarm clock on the chest of drawers exploded like a horrid little bomb of bell metal, Dorothy, wrenched from the depths of some complex, troubling dream, awoke with a start and lay on her back looking into the darkness in extreme exhaustion.”
Keep the Apidistra Flying (1936)
“The clock struck half past two.”
Coming up for Air (1939)
“The idea really came to me the day I got my false teeth. I remember the morning well. At about a quarter to eight I’d nipped out of bed and got into the bathroom just in time to shut the kids out. It wa a beastly January morning with a dirty yellowish-grey sky.”
Nineteen Eighty Four (1949)
It was a bright cold day in April, and the clocks were striking thirteen.”
♦
The one that doesn’t begin with ‘time’ is Animal Farm (1945), which begins instead with a pie-eyed farmer.
“Mr. Jones, of the Manor Farm, had locked the hen-houses for the night, but was too drunk to remember to shut the pop-holes.”
Hmmm… better look out, Farmer Jones… could be your time has come.

wordless wednesday
◊♦◊
Other Wordless Friends—
Cheryl Andrews
Allison Howard
Allyson Latta
Barbara Lambert
Elizabeth Yeoman
cedar hedge theory — wherein once something lives at your house it’s no longer invisible elsewhere
Once upon a time I didn’t notice cedar hedges.

Then we bought a house that was surrounded by them.

Suddenly I saw them everywhere.

Cedar hedges, I mean.

It was like that with these yellow flowers someone dug up for me out of a very special garden. It was late in the season and they were no longer blooming, just fronds, and as we passed clumps of fronds the person said: “Would you like some of these yellow flowers?”

I had no idea what they looked like but the way they said it I assumed they were beautiful and at the very least ‘special’. Possibly rare.

“Yes please!” I said and began counting the days until the special yellow flowers would bloom.

And when they did I was thrilled with the sight of them, thrilled to have this unique specimen.

Then I went for a walk.
wordless wednesday
(click to enlarge)
◊♦◊
Other Wordless Friends—
Cheryl Andrews
Allison Howard
Allyson Latta
Barbara Lambert
Elizabeth Yeoman
wordless wednesday
(click to enlarge)
◊♦◊
Other Wordless Friends—
Cheryl Andrews
Allison Howard
Allyson Latta
Barbara Lambert
Elizabeth Yeoman
today’s colour(s)
wordless wednesday
◊♦◊
Other Wordless Friends—
Cheryl Andrews
Allison Howard
Allyson Latta
Barbara Lambert
Elizabeth Yeoman
when thoughts turn to radishes, as they inevitably will — what to do with them? the radishes, i mean
1. Pretend to be French and eat them naked with a smear of butter or [if you’d rather be full out Canadian] find some of those giant ones and bite into them like apples while watching the playoffs in a seasonal toque. Continue reading
summer games
In the space of a block I see not one, not two, not three, but four street hockey nets… two games in progress. Also a driveway basketball match, a skateboarder and a jogger who can’t be any older than twelve (when did twelve year olds start jogging?). Plus a man who looks like Santa Claus walking a dog that looks like Toto.
I see sprawling trees I’d love to lunch in and two hopscotch courts chalked out on sidewalks, inviting me to remember that my favourite playing piece was a bit of chain… the kind sink plugs used to be attached to. You’d snap off a couple inches and it became a thing of beauty for throwing and aiming. No bounce.
The weeds are growing madly and the cherry popsicles are waiting in the freezer.
Get your priorities right, boys and girls.
Happy longest day of the year!
—Let the tom foolery begin.
























