Seven Things

I've been tagged by Debi, who wants me to write Seven Random Things About Ricardipus. So here you are:

1. I am currently suffering from a case of Paronychia on my right index finger. Go and look it up, it's not as bad as it sounds.

2. Last year, I co-authored a thirty page report on new genomics technologies, for Health Canada (the federal government health ministry). I've never met anyone who's read it - at least nobody that I didn't give it to myself.

3. Despite all my waffling on about racing and sportscars and so forth, the first car race I've ever been to was this year, in August. You can read about it in this ridiculous post.

4. Speaking of cars, I got my first speeding ticket ever this year, at the age of 40. I'm not sure if that's pathetic, admirable, or just random chance.

5. I confess to being tremendously lazy when it comes to learning about politics, politicians and policies - federal, provincial, municipal. It's only one of the things I could confess to being tremendously lazy about.

6. I work in a building complex called MaRS. Isn't that exciting?

7. I'm going to Montreal next week, a city I've very rarely visited.


There you go. In the spirit of this, I tag Wyldwoods and new Ricardiblog reader Pinklea, although it occurs to me that since Dawn has tagged the entire internet, I didn't really need to.

Leaving summer

It is autumn, and I am busy. Very, very busy. But not too busy to get out to the local Conservation Area a couple of weekends ago, to take a look at the fall colours. They're legendary around here - maples in bright golds, oranges, reds. The only problem is, that like the other in-between season (spring, that is), autumn only lasts for about a week here. Case in point - it snowed yesterday.

So you have to be quick. Quick, if you want to see those maples exploding in orange against a brilliant blue sky, fluffy white clouds floating by, the air crisp and cold and scented with wood smoke:



Or the riot of colour over the marshlands:



Or the local wildlife, doing its best to compete with the foliage for your attention:



Or those yellows - those glorious, glorious yellows, a last gasp before winter's blinding whites and drab greys set in:



Whoops, sorry about that. Not sure how that one slipped in there.

Daddy's girl.

"I like that horsey."

"Which horsey, honey?"

"The one on that shield."


I swear I didn't put her up to this.