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When I was researching my new camera, I asked my Dad for some advice. He wanted to know why I wanted a new camera – this is why.
The eagle on the left was photographed with my Canon A40 in January. The eagle on the right is the same eagle, same place, same time of day, photographed yesterday with my new camera.

Update
My dad says that he looked at the before and after eagle and cannot see that this “proves anything.”
Y’know, I have said this before, and maybe one of these times I’ll really do it – no more trying to impress my dad! He’s hopeless.

Irene, Kate and I took the boys to the Botanical Gardens today to see the butterflies (and to take many, many pictures).

I’ve posted a whole lotta butterfly and flower pictures. Tomorrow – the orchids.

Should I be concerned that of all the photos I’ve posted to flickr, the most popular by far is the close-up of my toes?

Paul McCartney graced Canada with a visit yesterday, but only to bring to light a “stain” on our nation – the annual seal hunt. He and his wife donned fetching orange snowsuits and headed out to the ice floes to save the seals.

McCartney cooed and spoke softly as he came almost nose to nose with bawling pups on the frozen expanse.

Nearby, worried mother seals peered anxiously from areas of open water, clearly frightened by the men and women who so desperately want to be their saviours.

At one point, a prone Heather McCartney began to pet one of the furry pups, which turned and snapped, narrowly missing her hand. Federal regulations prohibit people from touching marine mammals.

…

Phil Jenkins, a spokesman for the federal Fisheries Department, said he took the opportunity to make Ottawa’s case directly to McCartney when he spoke with him during a flight into Charlottetown on Wednesday night.

“Sir Paul McCartney said that he had heard that the seal population was declining and there was a conservation issue,” Jenkins said.

“In fact, the seal population is at 5.8 million animals and that’s about triple what is was in the 1970s.”

Jenkins said he was concerned by the McCartneys’ decision to pose with the youngest harp seals, known as whitecoats, because hunters have been banned from killing them since 1987.

Well, as long as Sir Paul and the little woman know what they’re on about, then.
You know, I am as big a fan of cute animals as the next person. I agree that fox hunting – which is for sport, not fur, and does not mean the livelihood of entire communities in the UK – should be better regulated, if not altogether banned.
I am also all for celebrities using their exposure to benefit people – God knows there are countless Africans who no doubt owe their continued existence to the constant (really constant) nagging of St. Bono.
However, if what said celebrity is nattering on about is based on misinformation and a deep seated desire to be the champion of the small and photogenic, then all s/he is doing is perpetuating the misinformation.
Colin has a friend at school who has obviously heard how important it is to conserve nature, save the rainforests, recycle paper, etc., etc. This friend has informed Colin that his grandfather, my dad, is a bad man because he cuts down trees.
Now, my dad is not a saint. He’s not vegetarian, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen him take a stand on world hunger. His track record with nature, though, is pretty good. On his 65-acre property, hunting has never been allowed. One winter, he fed peanut butter toast to an injured raccoon for weeks. He makes room in the freezer for various chicken parts so there’s always food for the local foxes.
As for the wood, well, the living room is panelled in wood from his forest. The house is heated at least in part by the wood he cuts. The cutting he does is strategic – old, dead trees, or trees that have been damaged and are thus posing a threat to other trees.
But as far as Colin’s eight-year-old friend is concerned, my dad cuts trees, so he’s bad.

Yay March! It’s light out after 5 p.m. again! Hope springs eternal, spring being the operative word.
It was warm enough today for us to hit the park on our way home from the bus stop. Given the -25s we’ve lived through earlier this week, the outing was much appreciated.

Can You Keep a Secret is the first Sophie Kinsella book I’ve read, although I am aware of the Shopaholic series, and have always intended to read at least one.
I read this one namely because a friend lent it to me and promised me a quick, fun read. That’s exactly what I got. The book is fun to read – and a little irresistable, as my getting-to-sleep-at-God-knows-what-time last night will attest. Yes, I finished the book in one sitting.
Most of the time, this book feels very much like another Bridget Jones’ Diary, which is not necessarily bad. It does mean, however, that predictability is an issue – it’s really easy to see what’s coming in the next chapter, not to mention how it will all end. Of course, knowing what’s going to happen doesn’t change the fact that you want to see it happen.
There are a couple of great characters in the novel, although the main character is not necessarily one of them. Emma, our heroine, is very much a Bridget Jones clone, albeit skinnier. Her roommates are fun sketches, though, and her coworkers are nicely awful.
There are moments of hilarity, many of them contingent on variations on the “how will she get herself out of this scrape-that-is-not-at-all-her-fault” theme. What surprised me were the moments of emotion. I felt tears well up more than once while I read this book, although I am willing to admit that tiredness may have been a factor.
Recommended, especially if you enjoyed the Bridget Jones books or movies.

I know I’m not the first to comment on the increasingly ridiculous ‘technological advances’ in men’s razors, but I can’t resist asking – just how hard is it for you guys to shave?
Gillette now has Fusion, with five blades on one side, and a single blade on the reverse for ‘precision.’
Five blades? Really? FIVE?
Of course, for the man who really wants a better razor, there’s the battery-powered Fusion.
At least there is some comfort in the fact that nothing really changes when it comes to how to sell, if not what to sell. The Fusion site is rife with buttons and cool graphics. Narrated by Cassandra, the short-skirted, high-heeled, long-haired ‘director of the lab,’ the story of Fusion apparently begins in a secret desert lab (a la Moonraker, perhaps?) with hi-tech holograms of Cassandra in a fetching lab coat over a skintight red minidress.
If you choose to enter the ‘holosphere,’ as invited to by the ever-beguiling Cassandra, you have the option of selecting ‘Fun’ – which, according to Cassie, is why you’re there in the first place.
What constitutes fun? A screen full of links to on-line gaming sites.
So it comes down to this – if you want to convince men to buy yet another pricey razor, you need (1) more blades, (2) a new twist [in this case the reverse ‘precision’ blade], (3) optional batteries, (4) a spokeswoman who is both obviously smart, since she’s the lab director, and obviously hot for you, (5) cool graphics and effects, and (6) links to other manly pursuits like on-line card games.
Five blades?

Yesterday morning, Dr. T and I were having our morning coffee and paper in bed, listening to the local radio news. The news included an item about a convicted pedophile who is now facing new charges. The news reader said something about a group of children, “three of which gave statements” leading to the new charges.
I sat up in bed and yelled at the radio “OF WHOM!!!”
Dr. T looked at me and said “that’s what disturbs you about this story?”
I may have to reprioritize.

Click for the full Heidi
I don’t see the cat that clearly in real life.

Stupid two-and-a-half-hour battery charger…