A matter of perspective
I guess it’s a question of perspective. This morning, a flight into Halifax didn’t end as planned. When asked, the airline described the situation as a “hard landing”. The passengers, perhaps more involved, used the alternative descriptive: “crash”. The plane (not interviewed as of press time) seems to be missing an engine, and landing gear, and a nose, and the important part of one wing. As I said, perspective.
Our neighbour came by with more hot soup today. An interesting closure to three decades of polite disinterest. Maybe this whole “they’re going to move away” is seen as an illness. The soup was very good, so I’ll file this one under social outlier. Maybe I can offer it as a seed for study, to some desperate undergrad with a need for a research project. Duplication of the situation might be difficult, because I do plan to move away. No soup bribery for this lad.
We’re back to observing the conduct of world-class curlers, out of Halifax. No tie to the opening scenario. The skills are impressive, the chatter is multi-language and the stones continue to defy physics. If I watch enough ends, will I learn the “how to” by observation? After all, that’s the premise used for other fields of study in the modern school system. Teachers, and observers. I learned most of my math skills by watching the master at the blackboard. OK, forget the idea that I’m going to get better at this.
In conclusion, here’s the ten year view of things from my driveway, as of this date.
