The Vancouver gay villiage

Out and about today, eh.


Packing again

Decluttering your life. So many magazine rack choices to explain how at most stores, and Web sources galore, eh. Awash in advice, a procrastinators dream excuse, perpetual research. Anyway, getting to play with your toys is the best part of cleaning up ones room. Let’s say, so to speak, to add a hesitation between what is told and what is truth, eh. Pictures more than words perhaps, multi media so inclined. Plus, the said toys.

I bought a hat today

It is the closest to a 1940s fedora as I have been able to locate. The gay sounding male clerk objected to my calling the first couple of hats he showed me too femme. The hats were rounding and he shaped the top and form there dents to the fedora shape. But to my eye, they looked like the cowboy sidekick hat of the guy who whines the hero is letting women folk hang around. Even with the reshape, they did not seem butch enough. Thin bands and wide brims. But, there was one, not hipster, not bowler, and not particular femme. Late 60s early 70s, black, a solid durable classic colour, not brown to tan. A hat band proportional to the brim, the feathers still well formed. And, it was even made in Canada, eh.

Oak ridge mall Vancouver bc while at oak ridge, I viewed the presentation center, from the smarmy presentation wordings as if philosophy, followed by design models that to my eye failed to account for snow and rain, in what remains of our seasons, shifted as they are by five weeks over my 50 years. And in a sufficient earthquake, 10 acres, the ring of towers falls on the courtyard, collapsing into the now six floors below of mall and unspecified parking underground. The raw recovery specialist