My Ladyfinger cactus named "Adios"

 

 Ladyfinger cacti, also known as Echinocereus, are native to Central Mexico and are known for their unique appearance and beautiful flowers. My cactus, named "Adios," has been with me for 50 years since it immigrated to its new home. Cacti are known for their resilience and ability to adapt to different environments, which could explain its longevity.

Taking care of a cactus like Adios typically involves providing it with adequate sunlight, well-draining soil, and infrequent watering. Ladyfinger cacti are generally low-maintenance plants, making them suitable for various indoor and outdoor settings.

Night Shadows (Forbidden Iceland #3)

"Night Shadows" by Eva Björg Ægisdóttir is a captivating psychological thriller that will leave readers on the edge of their seats. With its chilling atmosphere, complex characters, and intricate plot, Ægisdóttir demonstrates her mastery in the genre, delivering a dark and suspenseful story that keeps readers guessing until the very end.

Set in the atmospheric backdrop of Reykjavik, Iceland, "Night Shadows" follows Detective Inspector Elma, a dedicated and resilient investigator, as she tackles a puzzling case. When a series of brutal murders shocks the city, Elma finds herself entangled in a web of secrets and hidden connections that span decades. As she delves deeper into the investigation, she uncovers a dark underbelly of corruption, revenge, and long-held grudges.

One of the strengths of this novel is Ægisdóttir's ability to create a palpable sense of unease. The author masterfully weaves together descriptions of the Icelandic landscape, weather, and folklore, adding an extra layer of atmosphere and tension to the narrative. The bone-chilling setting becomes a character in itself, intensifying the feeling of impending danger and providing an eerie backdrop to the unfolding events.

The characters in "Night Shadows" are multifaceted and realistically flawed, which makes them relatable and adds depth to the story. Elma, in particular, is a compelling protagonist. Her determination, intelligence, and vulnerability make her a character that readers can invest in and root for. The supporting cast, including her colleagues and suspects, are equally well-developed and contribute to the overall complexity of the plot.

The plot of "Night Shadows" is intricately woven, with numerous twists and turns that keep the reader guessing. Ægisdóttir expertly reveals just enough information to maintain intrigue while withholding key details until the opportune moment, heightening the suspense throughout the novel. The pacing is generally well-maintained, although there are moments where the story loses some momentum, causing a slight lull in the otherwise gripping narrative.

Furthermore, the exploration of Icelandic folklore and its connection to the crimes adds an intriguing layer to the story. Ægisdóttir seamlessly blends the modern-day investigation with ancient legends, creating an engaging juxtaposition of old and new. This element adds depth to the overall narrative and showcases the author's talent for weaving together different threads to create a cohesive and immersive reading experience.

However, "Night Shadows" does require a certain level of patience from readers. The intricate plot and extensive cast of characters can be overwhelming at times, and some may find themselves losing track of certain storylines. Additionally, while the atmospheric descriptions contribute to the overall mood, they occasionally overshadow the pacing of the plot.

In conclusion, "Night Shadows" is a mesmerizing thriller that will satisfy fans of the genre. Eva Björg Ægisdóttir showcases her talent for crafting suspenseful narratives filled with intricate details and compelling characters. With its chilling atmosphere, unexpected twists, and exploration of Icelandic folklore, this book is a must-read for anyone seeking a dark and immersive psychological thriller.

Birds of a Feather

 

At 6:30 this morning I was awoken to the sound of Crows, voices that seemed to  have come out of hibernation. Delving further, I found out that they are more concerned with their families and survival than the early morning rant. There weren't many caws, just enough to remind me of what's just around the corner.

I decided to change my signature, something that wouldn't take so long to write. You never know, I might become a celebrity and have to sign autographs. And then there's the lottery. I may have to sigh cheques. 

PERSPECTIVE

 At my age, you can look back and it all looks like a humdrum existence. That's the wrong way to look at it. Think for a minute how it would look if it was made into a movie, a two hour movie. It might look like an interesting show. For me, for instance, it could show me working on a number of occasions about ten feet from a nuclear bomb that was strapped to the bottom of an F-104 Starfighter or skiing in the Swiss Alps or walking the streets of Rome under Vatican City. 

My son and I were watching a film last night showing Hitler at the Eagles Nest, just standing by the side of a short wall. My son said "Imaging if we could pop back in time to that point and gave him a little shove. Everything would be solved. But you would have to pop back right away because I don't think they would be inviting you for a beer."

Hey! I could put that in my movie as a dream I had one night.

Yearly Chores.

It was a cold and blustery day when I decided to switch out my summer tires for the winter set. I had always been conscientious about maintaining the van, and I know that good tires ware essential for safety on the road, especially during the winter months.

I retrieved your winter tires from the shed where they had stored them over the summer, and with a little bit of elbow grease, I was able to get them stored in the back of the van in no time. I couldn't help but feel a sense of accomplishment. Off to the garage tomorrow

After I finished moving the tires, I decided to tackle another winter-related task: moving the snow blower from the shed. I knew that snow was likely just around the corner, and I wanted to be prepared. I carefully moved the snow blower out of the shed and put it on the patio.

With the snow blower out of the way, I of course had extra space in the shed. I took advantage of this by moving the barbecue inside. I had always kept your barbecue on the patio, but I knew that the cold winter weather would not be kind to it. By storing it in the shed, I could protect it from the elements and keep it in good condition for the next grilling season.

As the day came to a close and I locked the shed door behind me, I couldn't help but feel grateful that all the hard work was done. I know that by being proactive and taking care of my tires and winter equipment, I am setting myself up for success, no matter what the weather had in store.

Dreams

I think I dream every night. Sometimes I remember them but most times it's as if I draw the curtain back a bit and catch a glimpse. I like my dreams. Some are exciting, some funny and at times weird but never scary. Maybe I dream so much because I read a lot. The dreams are an extension of my reading pattern. I never read about outer space nor dream of it. Sometimes dreams cover a long period of time and we think they last all night. One night I noticed my clock before I fell asleep, had a dream and woke up. Looked at my clock again and only a few minutes had passed. In my mind, this dream had carried on for hours. 

Speed Bumps

 

While I was driving around yesterday, I couldn't help but notice the would-be speed bumps. The pavement was cut, the sign was there but the asphalt wasn't in yet. Then I thought, why bother? The hole was there and that was a speed bump in itself. All you have to do is turn the sign upside-down. Think of how much pavement they would save. They should pay me a finder's fee for this idea.

Barracuda Fuels

While I was out doing my walk yesterday, I noticed a new fuel truck in the neighborhood. The truck was black and called Barracuda Fuels. Never seem it before. Years ago, they had a number of small companies floating around. But over the years they kept getting bought out. I think mine had three different owners. 

When I first came here, I dealt with Shell. I guess they came with the house. Then I figured out that every tank of oil cost me $50.00 more than with a no-name company. So, I switched. People would say, "Oh, you're getting cheap oil, junk oil etc." But. here's the thing. All the oil here comes from the same pump. Same oil, the only difference is price. 

Any House is a Mansion

 I just finished reading the book "The Unforgiven" This is not the one with Clint Eastwood. That was "Unforgiven". This one stared Burt Lancaster. Most of the story centers around a soddy in Texas. I know what a soddy is, but I decided to look up some photos. One of them got my attention. It's not the child in the doorway but the flowers planted on each side of the door. You have to admit that this a pretty sad looking home. Small, not much room. One window at the back, maybe the sides. Even so, the woman of the house thinks enough of it to try and give it some beauty by planting flowering bushes at the front. 

My Cousin

Patrick N Patti Smith

Yes I have all the vaccines and boosters. Can't wait to get the bivalent booster. Maybe in January. Exciting times. Good time in history to be alive.

MY TWITTER ACCOUNTS

 I have two Twitter accounts. I call them my Transmitter and my Receiver. On my Transmitter called PensionersRant,  I write all my comments, I follow everyone but very rarely read their comments. On my receiver, I rarely write comments, I follow very few and read most of their comments. 

THE WATERMELON

My wife bought a watermelon yesterday and left it on the counter all night. This morning I hear from my wife. "Dear, come look at this, the counter is covered in water. Ther must be something wrong with your coffee machine." I couldn't figure how that could be since I don't leave water in it but just maybe I put water in it yesterday and forgot to make the coffee. So, I told her I would put water in and just let it sit and see what happens. Did that and put some paper towel under the watermelon. Came back twenty minutes later and the towel was soaked. Leaky watermelon not bad coffee machine. 

What happens next?  I told my wife to return it and get another one. I don't like donating money to a supermarket. Most people would throw out that watermelon. I know they would. Don't want the extra chore, can't be bothered, too much trouble, it's only $3.00 yada, yada, yada. But would you take three dollars from your pocket and throw it in the garbage, I don't think so. People waste money on a daily basis and then complain about their lack of funds. We live in a capitalist system, and they don't even teach in school how to look after your money. When it comes to money, most people are pretty dumb.

My wife thought they would blame it on her, that maybe she broke it and caused the leak. Anyway, she returned it and didn't get another. Some of the other ones were leaking and the rest looked iffy. They took our watermelon and returned it to the pile. Then she bought bananas. Winners, all the way around. 

The Roman Colosseum

   

 I've been watching the mini-series "The Colosseum". The last show was depicting the time around 400 AD. Watching it made me feel like I was watching the daily news. The similarities were eye opening. Of course, there are vast differences between the eras, but they did speak of a pandemic, rising inflation, food supplies and the thing that got me the most was the pulling down of statues. 

The historians believe that this time was when the Roman Empire started its downward spiral and it 

 can't only be me who wonders if we are on our last legs. Everything seems to be falling apart as it was then. People talk about the end times believing it to be the end of the world. More than likely, it is the end of our times as it was the time for the Romans.

 The photos I've included are ones I took while in Rome. What you see is the round arena and the rooms underneath when they kept Gladiators, wild animals and the elevators that would lift them up to the arena. The second photo is the rooms where the Gladiators were housed, crammed in.

     

SOUND BITES

 

I only write sound bites. Too much of a good thing could be dangerous and it might lead into a personal opinion. You have to be careful with Facebook hovering. It's members are like vultures. They glare over the written word, waiting for a chance to pounce on personal thoughts. Woe to those who express a personal opinion which disagrees with their outlook on the world, an outlook shaped by the media. Oops! I guess I wandered off my soundbite.

Col. Sanders.

 

They used to call Col. Sanders a chicken peddler. I picture him on a train, opening up a suitcase and showing a display of chickens. "And here Madam is our southern style."

Butter or margarine? We keep flip-flopping on that.

 

Bel Air Direct Insurance. Love that ad

Beggars now have uniforms. Ripped jeans.

 

My Most Recent Photo

 

I Went One Time,

to a circus that is and on this my memory is not failing me, fingers crossed.  I remember a sunny day, beautiful weather. Of course one only remembers good things happening on fine days. Although a good memory, it also had a crappy aspect to it, the most memorable part. It sticks with me.

 Following a vocal crowd I headed for my seat in the Big Top. In circuses all tents are called The Big Top, no matter what the size. Of course I was in the front row like everyone else because good memories are always in the front row which is another thing about memories. I was sitting in the corner seat where all the performers in their rhinestone studded costumes followed by those riding on their animals or driving silly cars passed by on their entrance and exit route.

As their made their circuit around the course and were then exiting, an elephant passed by me and dropped a turd not five feet away. It was large and round and steamy. It reminded me of an end table, without legs of course. I wasn't insulted, I'm sure it wasn't personal. As the cavalcade continued, the turd was ground into the sand. A reminder that no matter how much crap you see, it eventually disappears.

As the Ringmaster, in his high black hat and tails, introduced the performers, my attention was drawn to a girl near me who was spinning on a hanging rope. There were a number of ropes with spinning girls and below each girl was a man spinning the rope. It was like a skipping rope, but sideways. My full attention was focused on the girl nearest to me, actually the couple. 

There was nothing special about them except the fact that they were having an argument. As she twirled in her aerial dance routine, he snapped the rope hoping for her to fall. Although quite vocal, no one seemed to pay any attention to the harsh words as they competed with the words of the Ringmaster. Part of their routine, twirl and shout, twirl and shout.

As I think back I can't help but surmise that they were probably a married couple, in their own little bubble, unaware of the other bubbles around them and caring less.