Frosty the Woe-man and Other Seasonal Noir

Vancouver's snow people live robust but brutally short lives. Reminds me of the Frosty the Snowman Christmas special, which I could never watch without feeling a creepy, embryonic kind of existential horror. I never really bought the coming-back-to-life part at the end. (How's that for Christmas cheer?!)

Here's another: "Ahhhhh .... I'm mellllllting! Must do something meaningful before it's too late!"

Freddie: "Sorry I bit your arms off."

This tree belongs on a Siberian plain in the dead of winter.

Here we are at Tatlow Park, where I began to see everything in noir as my blood sugar took a nose dive — roughly the four hundredth occurrence since we moved (Freddie's getting a lot of practice). It's a combination, I think, of hefting around heavy things and doing a lot more uphill walking than I did in our old 'hood — not just the streets, but also the stairs in our building. There's an elevator, but I decided when we moved in (to the top/5th floor) that I would generally use the stairs going up. Good for the fitness, but I need to adjust my insulin doses, or Freddie will start demanding a pay increase.

But anyway, can't you just imagine a corpse or two, just off-camera in this scene? Gorky Park instead of Tatlow Park? Or is that just me?

Best add a cheerful Labradoodle and a bit o' colour. Cornelius Krieghoff, eat yer heart out.

Tatlow Park Bridge and Bench

Rear Window

I could almost — almost — imagine we were in the Alps here.

Show-Down Against the Darkness

Dusk falls on the shortest day of the year.

And now the sun begins its return! Happy Solstice!