Showing posts with label video. Show all posts
Showing posts with label video. Show all posts
Wednesday, 6 August 2014
Tuesday, 15 July 2014
Blooming ...
Madrid filmmaker David de los Santos Gil shot color time-lapse video of a dozen different flower varieties blooming, compiling the results into a single short video. The full process involved 50,000 photographs shot over a nine-month period though only 5,000 images made it into the final piece.
Friday, 11 July 2014
Tuesday, 8 July 2014
Californication ...
Another fabulous visit to Cali! Nothing's better than arriving in the land of heat sans humidity and having the handsomest man in the whole airport waiting for me.
The next day, I found a hairdresser that I adore - he's not too far from home and really knows what he's doing. Despite it being a first visit, he understood exactly what I wanted and delivered in spades. Lainey is a happy girl!
K and I celebrated Canada Day with poutine. Hahaha, who are we kidding? Everyone knows that you can't find any poutine worth celebrating anywhere outside la belle province! We spent a lot of my time there cooking - it's lovely being able to walk to the grocery store, pick out the ingredients for that night's dinner, and then head back to cook together.
Spent my first July 4th stateside. Well, I may have done so as a child but I don't remember. This one, I will remember! We headed to Whole Foods and picked up some paiche, which we baked with some lime, ginger, olive oil, and garlic. We plated it up alongside a salad and headed up to dine alfresco on the loft balcony. Our dinner at dusk was delicious, the wine was cold and crisp, and we could hear some of the neighbours heading to the park to watch the fireworks.
Sippin' under the stars
Then, it was dark ... and it became loud.
And the rocket's red glare, indeed!
With the weekend came a road trip/getaway. We headed to Three Rivers for a meeting with the Veep.
The drive up was hot, hot, hot ... but at least it wasn't humid!
My chauffeur ... also hot, hot, hot!
Konrad and I made seafood risotto for Linda and Martin, and Linda made a juicy strawberry tart. It was a perfect evening. (The dinner was originally slated to be a Lobster Risotto. Unlike here, where almost every supermarket has a lobster tank, the crunchy people of California seem to only stock frozen lobster because stocking fresh lobster is "cruel and inhumane". Hmmm. They DO realize that frozen lobster was once alive? And that someone had to kill it? Geeze, they tout everything else being so fresh but are willing to settle for frozen crustaceans!)
Dessert was soooooo good!
The next morning, we were spoiled with a buffet of homemade blueberry scones, scrambled eggs and spinach, bacon, sausage, and coffee. Before leaving, we watched a deer munching on apples that it had swiped off the apple tree. It was a lovely visit and one that I look forward to repeating.
The drive back was overcast but still really enjoyable. We do love a good road trip!
Kameah River
Here, they pronounce it LA-vle!
That night, we found a great lil Thai place in the neighbourhood. The food was really good and we decided it's a keeper.
The next day, it was time for us both to pack up and head out. At the airport, I found out that the woman in line behind me was also Canadian and had moved to Cali for love. Small world! *wink*
It was a great visit - more time to unload stuff and settle into our new place, some alone time with K, and a chance to meet some really great people. Can't wait to get back there again!
Friday, 27 June 2014
Thursday, 26 June 2014
Sunday, 1 June 2014
Missing Babcia ...
It's been exactly a year since I last saw Babcia. I miss her terribly.
After having lost all my grandparents when I was in my early 20's, I was lucky enough to have been given the gift of Babcia. K introduced us back in 2011 on one of his visits to Montreal; soon after, I began visiting her on my own. The visits were never a chore - we would sit for hours while she shared stories of her past, stories of K's childhood. We would hold hands while she asked me about my kids and Jack. She always asked about Jack. I would bring her up to speed on my kids and on K's kids. Later, I would call K and share with him everything the nurses had told me about her health, as well as everything Babcia had told me. Well, everything 'cept the things she had asked me to keep secret, that is. Many times, K would be surprised to learn something about his own past (or Babcia's) that he had never known. Finally, I would send him that visit's video. Before leaving Babcia each time, I would record a video for K (or his kids) ... Babcia sending him (or them) a brief message, her blessing, and her love. She became quite the video star.
K and I would often marvel at Babcia's memory. Never was there a time when she would repeat herself when telling us stories. Sometimes, she would refer to something that she had already told me, reminding me that I already knew such and such before continuing the new story. But rehashing anything? Babcia never did. A woman in her 90's and her memory was better than K's and mine combined.
Babcia didn't do a lot of complaining, despite being bedridden, and in pain a lot of the time. Something she didn't appreciate too much was the food at the home, to the point where she wouldn't eat a lot and would subsequently lose weight. Trying to prevent this, I started bringing her meals when I would visit, in hopes of finding something that would get her to eat. Borscht was one of those things. She would tuck in to the bowl and not look up again until swallowing the last spoonful. Other times, she would make special requests - cold cuts and rye bread from Zytynsky's, Ginger Ale, or a pasta dish that she asked me for several times. As I prepped the plate for her, she would ask the inevitable (inevitable for her!) question ... "Did you put in a lot of onions?" Ahhhh, Babcia and her onions!
At this time last year, I had received a call from the Polish Home telling me that she had been brought to the hospital. Not an uncommon event, given her age, her frail health, and the fact that I was her emergency contact here in town. After giving K a quick call, I raced to the hospital. Babcia was worse than I had ever seen her. She was non-reactive, her breathing was laboured, her hands were ice cold, and she needed assistance to breathe. As luck would have it, the pneumologist had just examined her and was able to fill me in on her condition. He didn't make it sound good. I decided then to tell K to hop on a flight and get here as quickly as he could. Then I went back to Babcia's room and begged her to hold on. Unsure of whether or not she could hear me, I told her that K was coming to see her and that she had to stay until he got there. After picking him up at the airport the following day, we headed back to the hospital. I tried as best I could to prepare K for how sick Babcia looked, for how un-Babcia she seemed. We donned gowns and pulled on gloves before heading into Babcia's room. K leaned over and spoke to his grandmother and this woman, who hadn't opened her eyes, who hadn't taken a breath without the aide of a respirator, who hadn't moved a muscle ... slowly and just barely moved her hand. I was shocked. But then again, why wouldn't she have made the effort for her beloved K? He spoke to her for a while and then he and I sat down. We stayed there all afternoon, the hiss of the respirator as our soundtrack, and watched as the staff came and went. Luck was on our side again, because the pneumologist came by again and K got to speak to him about Babcia's prognosis. The doctor brought up the question of not resuscitating Babcia should she deteriorate to that point, a subject that I also tried to discuss with K. Yeah, it was that serious. The doctor left and we sat back down. As evening approached, we decided to leave and get some dinner. K walked over the side of Babcia's bed and leaned over. Taking her hand, he told Babcia that we were going to eat and that we'd be back in the morning. Babcia slowly and just barely nodded, surprising us both.
Babcia passed away before dawn, before we returned to the hospital. I'm convinced that this wonderful woman had held on for her treasured K, but then made sure to spare him having to see her pass away. This woman, who had lived a very hard life without complaints, who had sacrificed much to raise her only grandson, this woman whom I had come to love as much as my own grandmothers, was gone.
I miss hearing Babcia's voice calling me 'Elainey'. I miss how she could never quite grasp what K does for a living, despite him explaining it to her on several occasions. I miss hearing her talk about her dog, Skippy ... the white one or the brown one. I miss the tales about St-Calixte. I will miss spending Christmas with her, as I done for her last two Christmases. I miss the way she would smile at me, which was nothing like the million watt smile she would wear when her K would come to visit. I miss so many things about Babcia and our visits. But I'll always be grateful that K shared his Babcia with me.
After having lost all my grandparents when I was in my early 20's, I was lucky enough to have been given the gift of Babcia. K introduced us back in 2011 on one of his visits to Montreal; soon after, I began visiting her on my own. The visits were never a chore - we would sit for hours while she shared stories of her past, stories of K's childhood. We would hold hands while she asked me about my kids and Jack. She always asked about Jack. I would bring her up to speed on my kids and on K's kids. Later, I would call K and share with him everything the nurses had told me about her health, as well as everything Babcia had told me. Well, everything 'cept the things she had asked me to keep secret, that is. Many times, K would be surprised to learn something about his own past (or Babcia's) that he had never known. Finally, I would send him that visit's video. Before leaving Babcia each time, I would record a video for K (or his kids) ... Babcia sending him (or them) a brief message, her blessing, and her love. She became quite the video star.
K and I would often marvel at Babcia's memory. Never was there a time when she would repeat herself when telling us stories. Sometimes, she would refer to something that she had already told me, reminding me that I already knew such and such before continuing the new story. But rehashing anything? Babcia never did. A woman in her 90's and her memory was better than K's and mine combined.
Babcia didn't do a lot of complaining, despite being bedridden, and in pain a lot of the time. Something she didn't appreciate too much was the food at the home, to the point where she wouldn't eat a lot and would subsequently lose weight. Trying to prevent this, I started bringing her meals when I would visit, in hopes of finding something that would get her to eat. Borscht was one of those things. She would tuck in to the bowl and not look up again until swallowing the last spoonful. Other times, she would make special requests - cold cuts and rye bread from Zytynsky's, Ginger Ale, or a pasta dish that she asked me for several times. As I prepped the plate for her, she would ask the inevitable (inevitable for her!) question ... "Did you put in a lot of onions?" Ahhhh, Babcia and her onions!
At this time last year, I had received a call from the Polish Home telling me that she had been brought to the hospital. Not an uncommon event, given her age, her frail health, and the fact that I was her emergency contact here in town. After giving K a quick call, I raced to the hospital. Babcia was worse than I had ever seen her. She was non-reactive, her breathing was laboured, her hands were ice cold, and she needed assistance to breathe. As luck would have it, the pneumologist had just examined her and was able to fill me in on her condition. He didn't make it sound good. I decided then to tell K to hop on a flight and get here as quickly as he could. Then I went back to Babcia's room and begged her to hold on. Unsure of whether or not she could hear me, I told her that K was coming to see her and that she had to stay until he got there. After picking him up at the airport the following day, we headed back to the hospital. I tried as best I could to prepare K for how sick Babcia looked, for how un-Babcia she seemed. We donned gowns and pulled on gloves before heading into Babcia's room. K leaned over and spoke to his grandmother and this woman, who hadn't opened her eyes, who hadn't taken a breath without the aide of a respirator, who hadn't moved a muscle ... slowly and just barely moved her hand. I was shocked. But then again, why wouldn't she have made the effort for her beloved K? He spoke to her for a while and then he and I sat down. We stayed there all afternoon, the hiss of the respirator as our soundtrack, and watched as the staff came and went. Luck was on our side again, because the pneumologist came by again and K got to speak to him about Babcia's prognosis. The doctor brought up the question of not resuscitating Babcia should she deteriorate to that point, a subject that I also tried to discuss with K. Yeah, it was that serious. The doctor left and we sat back down. As evening approached, we decided to leave and get some dinner. K walked over the side of Babcia's bed and leaned over. Taking her hand, he told Babcia that we were going to eat and that we'd be back in the morning. Babcia slowly and just barely nodded, surprising us both.
Babcia passed away before dawn, before we returned to the hospital. I'm convinced that this wonderful woman had held on for her treasured K, but then made sure to spare him having to see her pass away. This woman, who had lived a very hard life without complaints, who had sacrificed much to raise her only grandson, this woman whom I had come to love as much as my own grandmothers, was gone.
I miss hearing Babcia's voice calling me 'Elainey'. I miss how she could never quite grasp what K does for a living, despite him explaining it to her on several occasions. I miss hearing her talk about her dog, Skippy ... the white one or the brown one. I miss the tales about St-Calixte. I will miss spending Christmas with her, as I done for her last two Christmases. I miss the way she would smile at me, which was nothing like the million watt smile she would wear when her K would come to visit. I miss so many things about Babcia and our visits. But I'll always be grateful that K shared his Babcia with me.
Thursday, 15 May 2014
Tuesday, 22 April 2014
Sunday, 2 March 2014
We love NYC!
New York City holds a special place in my heart and always will. Every chance that I have to return only underlines that sentiment!
Aerial Stock Footage available at www.axiomimages.com. Studio Quality. Indie Prices.
Aerial Cinematography by C.J. Roy
Music by Tiko Lasola
Eclipse technician - David Arms
Film Pilot - Al Cerullo
Shot on the Pictorvision Eclipse
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)