Brain fail.
I just reminded my partner Ian to floss and brush extra well before he goes downtown. He is going for an eye exam. Teeth, eyes, whatever. At least I knew he was going for something head-related.

A photo test strip of a youngish woman holding a Pentax camera on a tripod.

Rummaging through a shoebox of old photos, found this darkroom test-strip of a self portrait from late last century.

I wondered if it might be a Riopelle, but I'm not sure.

I see bullrush flip-flops :)

So that’s what it was! I too thought it was a big truck or thunder.

Your foot. Can you point it a bit?

Having been there, I know hard it is. I read your posts every day and I appreciate your candor and spirit. Hang in.

I had never heard of him before. Intriguing.

R.I.P. Gabor Szilasi, Montreal’s unofficial documentary photographer who folded art, design, and architecture into life.

Catalogue. Gabor Szilasi: the eloquence of the everyday.

Open catalogue showing two of his photos, 1973 and 1988.

R.I.P., Gabor Szilasi (1928-2026).

Canada lynx kitten

I noticed you were shortlisted for the Canadian History prize. Congratulations.

Crocuses!

A cluster of tulip leaves poking up through last year’s oak leaves.

Oh, hello! (April 3 Ottawa backyard sighting.)

Perhaps they tipped their wings as they flew over your street :)

A view of a street in Ottawa’s Hintonburg neighbourhood. Some geese in a V formation are flying north.

Kind of neat to see the avian life that I did not notice when I took this photo yesterday.

Thanks; was unaware of that.

I'm curious--what does her sign mean?

Someone wrote “The only way through is to go through it” and I tried to remember that during my own chemo ordeal last summer. Take it easy, and I wish you the very best.

I loved "Where is the Friend's House?" It's the first in the Koker trilogy. We watched the three on the Criterion Channel.

Or perhaps when you cut something at an angle?

A small white French porcelain teapot (Pillivuyt) on a round side table in a living room.

Everything is terrible but I am enjoying this mini teapot I pulled out from the back of the cupboard.

I don’t know what it means, either.

Interior. A man’s hand holding an unusual very textured double-tipped icicle.

“Help me take a photo of this icicle?”
“Hurry, my hands are getting cold.”

Written by one of his descendants? I was surprised to see that.

Absurd. Thanks for the warning.

Dusk. A female wild turkey standing on a porch railing in a snowy backyard.

Same, in a blur of flight, heading up to roost for the night.

7:22 p.m. You’re late. I thought you weren’t going to show up.

As someone who's been through the same chemo (though my six infusions were after my surgery) I appreciated reading your post. Sometimes it felt lonely feeling no one else knew what it was like. I hope you continue to avoid neuropathy. It's a bitch.

That feeling when you go for a blood test and the phlebotomist mentions that she has very intense daydreams and starts describing one to you….

Yes. “I must risk my life to step outside and take some pics of cute icicles!”