Got a ram

Son-in-law finally got a ram the other day, after many hunting trips high into the Rockies.  Congratulations to him.  There are very strict regulations about hunting here, including the restriction against killing any ram with horns smaller than the required curl.  A ram has to be at least seven years old to have a curl large enough to be hunted (his was 11).  And the hunter is also required to have it butchered for domestic use.  Here is the beast (sorry, can't seem to turn the photo?): 

 



I know many people are against hunting, but here in The West it's away of life I have to accept.  At least now I won't worry about him off in the wilderness for two and three days -- alone (albeit with bear spray) -- trying to find his ram.  The success rate for bagging a ram is about two percent, so his is quite an accomplishment.  And by the way, he caught a poacher and is working  with the authorities to help prosecute the offender.       
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I have finally had my little ceiling kitchen TV installed.  Why it took me four years, I have no clue!?  Twenty years ago, B bought me an adorable RCA set which was attached to a ceiling bracket and which allowed me to stay in-the-loop while tending to kitchen duties.  "I've never seen anything like this," said the young technician who arrived to set up the cable this morning.   He was actually impressed.  Trust me, you cannot find anything that small and efficient these days; everything is flat and HUGE.  And I will even be able to watch movies on it, should I wish.  Here it is:

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I swim, but some runners seem to have a death wish.  Saw an article the other day about how runners seem to crave pain.  It came with this photo:

I rest my case. 
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The following CBC interviews and announcers produced the following abominable grammar mistakes:

"If they would've went......"  OMG!!!!

".....Alberta students......"  This from the head of the Alberta Teachers' Union! 

"One in five children are..........."  Yikes!  We all know it should be, "One in five children is....."

"I appreciate you speaking with us."  Carol Off, 'As It Happens', every effing night.  Hey Carol, it's "your". 

I continue to cringe often. 

More bad fashion.