What On Earth?

I was walking through the Downs near the Jameson residence one fine evening when I noticed a bright light just to the other side of the Glengarry border. Moseying over to see what was there, I saw the gentleman in black (mostly obscured, but on the left-hand side of the picture) rezzing mushroom after mushroom, for what purpose, Lord only knows.

It's an interesting psychedelic effect, though.

Winter Comes to South End

Winter arrives at its own pace, sometimes late and sometimes rather early. The latter seems to have occurred in Caledon's South End, where a blanket of snow lies on the ground despite the balmy temperatures throughout much of the rest of the nation.

From the platform next to the Cenotaph, the view looks quite peaceful, does it not? But looks can deceive...


Here we see St. Hilda's church decked out in holiday finery, a reminder that Christmas is not all about egg nog, presents, and having to see one's disgusting Uncle Jimmy chase skirt and vomit in inappropriate places.


These snow creatures, in the Whybrows' hard, appear to be engaged in some sort of disagreement. The chap on the left, having armed himself with a hair dryer, seems to have the upper hand. Good shooting, old chap!


Presents? For me? Hmm, apparently not. Mrs. Fotherington does have a lovely pot of reindeer stew bubbling in her front yard - just the thing for a cold winter's night. (Poor Santa, running down the checklist: "Dasher? Donder? Okay, I see you both. Blitzen. Check. Comet? Comet, where the devil did you go? Oh, thank you, Mrs. Claus, that looks like a lovely stew...")

But perhaps Santa has bigger things about which to worry: the milk and cookies seem to have done him in outside Mr. Goode's establishment. And that's a mighty unsettling chalk outline of a reindeer next to him. Oh Mrs. Fotherington, could we have a word?

I am now a tad worried about my Christmas plans this year.