There was no damn letter in the mail last night. Trying to stay “meh” about it…it should come eventually…but I need the damn letter so I can start applying for other funding opportunities, many of which have deadlines of, oh, NEXT WEEK. Whatever.
It snowed today, like, really truly snowed. I wanted to walk in it, so I escaped my desk at lunch. Grey, damp, chilly, forgot my mitts and returned with numb, red hands (glee).
Sometimes I forget how lovely it is downtown. When you see something every day for years you often lose your appreciation for it. Guilty as charged. I know nothing about architechture, but I do love the stone, sweeping archways and oxidized copper rooftops. There are all kinds of wonderful, carved, fairy-tale-esque details hiding in unexpected nooks:
I love the fact that you can walk right up onto Parliament Hill and no one bats an eye.
There are two guarantees in life: death and taxes. Oh, and also that there will be a protest downtown at any given moment. Today it was the museum workers:
Oh yeah. And THIS lovely display, right in front of the Eternal Flame:
Good thing he brought all his supporters so he could REALLY make a statement *insert eye roll here*. What a loon.
I usually am the type of person who will calmly and rationally try to educate people about this sort of thing, but someone like this? Impossible. It’s a waste of energy and oxygen. Just once though, JUST ONCE, I’d like to hear an argument for why my marriage is so gosh-darn offensive which DOESN’T involve the word “god”, “bible”, or any some variation thereof. Blarg.
Speaking of loonies. There’s a rather poignant sculpture outside St. Andrew’s church on Wellington, of a homeless person. His bowed head and hunched shoulders are covered by a blanket.
His right hand is outstretched: a silent, universally-understood request. The sculptor had incorporated an actual one-dollar coin into the piece. Sadly:
I hope that, at least, it was someone who really needed it.