2009: Best. Eurovision. Ever.

Vastly entertaining news out of Ireland yesterday: glove puppet and edgy children's telly star Dustin the Turkey has been chosen as the Irish entry into this year's Eurovision Song Contest. Needless to say, anyone vaguely familiar with the nature of Eurovision knows that the song, titled "Irelande Douze Pointe", is a parody and a piss-take from beginning to end. And it's freakin' hilarious - see it here at YouTube.

Some grumpy people have been complaining about the selection of Dustin, saying that it demeans the serious intent of presenting real talent at Eurovision. But people like that are dreaming. The last ten years or so have seen the competition become weirder and weirder, with rampant political/cultural block-voting and an increasing preponderance of campy parody entries. I think the choice of Dustin is actually a canny move. Though some of the Irish Eurovision officials bemoan the lack of success that Irish acts have had in recent years, I don't think most people seriously want a win. After taking home the Eurovision prize three times in the 1990s, most Irish people were a bit embarrassed by the whole schlocky thing. Plus, the national broadcaster RTE was none too pleased at having to fork out millions to host the competition repeatedly for a while there (the winning nation has the 'honour' of hosting - and paying for - the contest the following year).

So Dustin is off to Serbia this spring, carrying the pride of the nation in his big pink beak. To use his own catchphrase, "Go on ya good ting!"

Hot New Camera

I picked up a new digital camera at the weekend. I've been looking for one for a few months now; my old camera's shutter has been making funny noises, in addition to being a bit banged up from A. borrowing it repeatedly to take into the clinic. (I've now bequeathed it to him, so he can do whatever he likes with it.)

I decided to get a 7.2 megapixel Sony Cyber-Shot DSC-W55. My old camera is also a Cyber-Shot (a DSC-P73), but the W55 has made some nice improvements in design. It's much tinier, thinner and altogether sexier, with a large LCD screen, improved battery performance and a more user-friendly zoom function. Unfortunately, like the P73, it still has a mode dial, which I don't particularly like - I was looking for a camera with a mode switch instead, which is not easy to find. At least the W55 has fewer modes on its dial, although the dial itself is physically smaller (which kind of negates any benefit).

Still in all, I'm quite pleased with it. I got it on sale at 30% off the regular price, which is good. Plus, I'm vain enough to admit that what really sold me was the aesthetics. It's completely adorable. It's pink, and comes with a teeny matching pink leather case! So cute!

I'm An LT Reviewer

Recently, those nice folks at LibraryThing introduced a new feature called Early Reviewers. They get free advance copies of new books from publishers; LT members can apply to review them; a few are chosen to recieve said copies, in the hopes that they will read them and post their reviews on LT. (You don't have to post a review, but if you don't, you're unlikely to be sent any more advance copies in future.)

This month, it was my turn to get lucky. I'm getting an advance copy of 26 Gorgeous Hikes on the Western Côte d'Azur by Florence Chatzigianis. Since I enjoy travel guidebooks, I'm quite looking forward to it - even though my only personal experience of hiking the Côte d'Azur consists of an idyllic two-hour stroll around Cap Ferrat on a hot, sunny afternoon in June 2004. (Jealous? You should be - it was fabulous. Heh.)

Want Ad of the Week

From the classifieds in this week's issue of The Coast:

Wanted: Someone to go back in time with me. This is not a Joke. You'll get paid after we get back. Must bring your own weapons. Safety not guaranteed. I have only done this once before. Reply to noguaranteeshere@hotmail.com.

Hahahahaha...fantastic. Should I respond? If indeed "this is not a Joke" (sic), just think of the bestselling works of history I could write!

Fear of Snowblowers

A. is about to bugger off again for a couple of weeks, so he thought it would be useful for me to learn how to use the snowblower. You know, that thing we spent $1,500 on three years ago, and which has been used perhaps half a dozen times since then.

So, away we went to the shed this evening, and A. wheeled the thing out and fired it up. Took a while to start it, since it's only been used once so far this winter. Then, after about two minutes of instruction, I made a mental note never to touch the damn thing. Between the clutches and throttles and gears and rotary blades and keys and gas valves and emergency pull-start cords...all of which must be employed at the appropriate time, and in a prescribed order...Jesus. And not only is it intimidating to operate, but it's quite scary as well. It emits an unholy roar, shakes, coughs, and belches carbon emissions in the form of foul-smelling black exhaust.

A. is very puzzled by my aversion to the snowblower, insisting that it's "just a simple gasoline-powered engine". Yeah well, he can keep his toy all to himself. I've decided that, should we in fact be subject to a blizzard over the coming weeks, I will pop over to our neighbour D., and cheerfully offer him the use of our snowblower for his own driveway - if he wouldn't mind doing ours afterwards. An altogether easier solution, if you ask me.

Engineer Sez Yeah

Phase One in my plans for the Great Kitchen Reno of 2008 is now complete. Last night, we had a structural engineer come round to take a look at the space we want to renovate, and tell us whether we can knock out a few walls without the whole house falling down. After about an hour of surprisingly technical investigations, he determined that none of the walls in question are load-bearing, and can indeed be taken down without the need to install any beams or bracing. Yay! Very good news.

Phase Two is the design and planning stage, and that's going to take me some time. Propitiously, it turns out that one of our neighbours is an interior designer who specialises in kitchens - score! This lady has also been using our driveway to park her car for the past few winters (with our permission, since her own driveway is very steep and icy) - so I'm hoping that some expert design advice will be forthcoming. She recommended the engineer we saw last night, in fact.

So now comes the hard part - planning and costing the reno itself. We need everything - walls taken down to enlarge the space, cabinetry, floors, lighting, tiling, countertops, and of course appliances. I can't wait to replace my cooktop with its warped burners, and the tiny old oven with its missing racks and burned-out grill (for which parts are no longer available, it's so old).

God knows how much this is all going to cost, though. Yeerks.

Armchair Gardening

I've spent a fair bit of time yesterday and today poring over gardening books and mail-order catalogues, trying to figure out what to put into our garden this year. Since last year's garden was pretty much a washout (thanks to the useless gits who delayed our shed reno), I'm determined to cultivate a nice display this summer. For a while there yesterday, I found myself growing ever more confused, given the many factors to take into account when choosing plants (amount of sun required, blooming period, hardiness zone, water needed, etc.). But I think I've made a few decisions at last.

Given how busy our lives are, it makes sense to focus on perennials - in particular, ones that are hardy in this climate (we're in zone 6a) so we don't have to go lifting too many plants for the winter. It also seems a good idea to choose plants with a long blooming period, like cranesbill, reblooming daylilies, mallows and coreopsis (unfortunately, some of the longest-blooming flowers, like dahlias and begonias, need to be lifted for the winter here). Another factor to consider is that much of our garden is partially or fully-shaded - so I'm looking at things like hostas, foxgloves, bleeding hearts, and toad lilies for that.

I think I'll order a few things via mail-order this year, but then plan to visit some local nurseries in April and May, in the hopes of finding some good plants there. And this spring I must finally get around to pilfering some cuttings from my parents' garden too - they've got beautiful roses, peonies and honeysuckle that I've been eyeing for several seasons now.

Recent Reading

Now for a rundown of my recent reading (the Munro Day edition):

• The Club Dumas by Arturo Perez-Reverte - I saw Roman Polanski's (disappointing) film adaptation of this a few years ago, The Ninth Gate starring Johnny Depp. Happily, the novel was much better - though still not the compelling page-turner I expected. A consequence of the translation from Spanish? Or just the author's style? At any rate, I learned a good deal about both the rare-book trade and demonology - so not a bad thing.
• Canada's House: Rideau Hall and the Invention of a Canadian Home by Margaret MacMillan, Marjorie Harris, and Ann L. Desjardins - I got this for Christmas last year, but only just got around to reading it over the autumn. A beautifully-produced book, fit for the coffee table, with lots of great photos and text. The book is divided into three parts, each written by an expert in the field. MacMillan starts with the history of Rideau Hall itself, its construction, and stories of the many Governors-General who have lived their with their families over the years. Harris discusses the gardens and landscape surrounding the Hall, and Desjardins the epic feats of cookery that have emerged from the viceregal kitchens down the decades, as royalty and heads of state were entertained. The impression conveyed is of a long, slow transition from stuffy and inappropriate British influence to the emergence of an innately Canadian viceregal style, whether in the choice of art for the walls, plants for the gardens, or food ingredients for state banquets. Quite an entertaining read - and a good contribution to my woefully-inadequate knowledge of Canadian history. Next time I visit Ottawa, I'll definitely have to visit Rideau Hall.
• The Children of Hurin by JRR Tolkien - I received the "new" Tolkien for Christmas this year, but of course it's not new at all - just freshly revised and edited by Tolkien's son. I was pleasantly surprised by it. It's much more coherent and developed than the snippets of the story which appeared previously as a chapter of The Silmarillion (which I found tough going, to be honest). There's also a good foreword by Christopher Tolkien, placing it in the wider context of the history of Middle-Earth, so the non-obsessive Tolkien fan has a better chance of figuring out what the hell is going on and how it relates to the events of The Lord of the Rings. On that note, there's also an excellent glossary of names at the back of the book - I had sat down to read The Children of Hurin with my Complete Guide to Middle-Earth at hand, for reference, but the book's own glossary made that unnecessary. Anyway, though I enjoyed it, I'd still say it's probably only for the hardcore Tolkienite.
• The Observations by Jane Harris - I actually bought this, in audiobook format, during audible.com's holiday sale. It's probably the most engaging audiobook I've ever listened to. Audiobooks provide quite a different experience to reading printed books, and I find I have to be careful about my choices. You've got to focus on listening unless you want to be endlessly hitting the reverse button, and I've often found my attention wandering. The Observations had me hanging on just about every word, however. It helped that it was the sort of book I always enjoy - historical fiction, with a domestic setting in Victorian Scotland, and with a strong whiff of Gothic mystery. The book was narrated by the author herself, who did a great job - she's obviously got some acting ability, and employed a variety of regional British and Irish accents with ease (and great comic effect, in many cases). Very fun stuff!