Halifax, I Love You But You're Bringing Me Down

Okay, to be fair, it isn't so much the city that is bringing me down. In fact, I really do love this city. It's more like my apartment. Not even the whole apartment, really just the mouse problem. When I say mouse problem it sounds like we have one mouse. We don't. We have several. We have a mice problem. I kid you not, while editing the photo for this post I saw two scurrying through our hallway. This was a slight improvement over finding one in my breadbag last week (try picking up a loaf of bread to make a lunch for work the next day and finding a small beady-eyed rodent staring at you from inside the plastic...actually, on second thought, don't do that, it is a rather scarring experience), but is still not really okay with me. I've tried naming them, since this was a suggestion someone gave me when it came to dealing with the spiders that really liked my last apartment and it actually proved to be a useful tactic. It's not really proving so effective with the mice though. Harold, Tom Thumb, Hunka Munka...really, I just don't want to be living with them. On the bright side, I am writing this post with a poodle sitting in my lap, and while she doesn't actually care about the mice until they are dead, I feel slightly more confident as long as she is nearby.

Close to Home

Sometime around 7.30 the light outside became absolutely exquisite again, so I roused myself from my office and wandered around the block taking pictures. I really hope no one was looking out their windows at the time, because I probably looked like a crazy person (at one point I may or may not have crawled underneath a bush in front of the house next to mine...).

Historic

One day I will own a historic home. 

I can't get over how gorgeous historic buildings are. I could spend so much time photographing them. The incredible details are so striking. Old buildings have something that just doesn't exist in new buildings: history. They tell stories. They somehow hold parts of each person involved in building and inhabiting them. They are a physical manifestation of countless memories. I almost feel like they are alive sometimes.

One of the perks of living out east is that history is much more present than it is out west. It's just a logical consequence of the way in which Canada was settled. I told Lycidas, my dear history-loving friend, that the east is steeped in history, and that you can't help but find it, even if you aren't looking for it. There is a connectedness with history that is tangible when you are out here that just doesn't exist in Alberta.

It might be an actual house, it might be an apartment in a historic building, but one day I will own a historic home.

Picture Perfect Ending

Today was warm out but overcast, which was okay since I was inside writing papers all day and wouldn't have gotten to enjoy the sun even if it had been out. The clouds started to thin just in time for sunset though and the sky was full of wispy purple and blue clouds and the world was washed in a golden light. It was actually quite gorgeous. I took this picture from the window in front of my desk. I looked up from my paper and the sun was hitting the brick on the corner of the building so perfectly that I had to grab my camera and document it. There is something so peaceful and soothing about the golden light of sunset.