Electric City

How fortuitous! While Thursday night technology let us down when the power went leaving us in the cold for 24 hours. Today there was redemption. Here's how techology won me back.

I leave White Squirrel Coffee Shop on Queen Street W; enter Chippy's and order the Haddock and chips; I'm told the order takes 4 or 5 minutes. I pay and proceed next door to peruse the selection at Type Books; I set my iPhone timer to 4 minutes and check the Red Rocket app to see when the next 501 Westbound on Queen; the answer: less than 6 minutes. My phone alarm goes off, I pick up supper just as the street car arrives. I get home while my fish 'n' chips are still warm. Consume fried fast food while watching the ball game.

Of course, all of this could've happened without the phone but not without beautiful flowing electricity.

Thank you, Mr. Tesla.

This is the reason mobile phones have cameras.

Christmas Pics


Enjoy these photos, some taken in Newfoundland, some in Toronto, of our holiday shenanigans. Speaking of which, my getting back to the Big Smoke was an awful kerfuffle. My 6AM flight (which we woke up at 3:30AM to catch) from St.John's (YYT) left late which mattered little because my connecting flight in Halifax (YHZ) was cancelled (ostensibly due to weather - 20 flights were cancelled, mostly Air Canada ones). Thoughtfully, Air Canada went out of their way to offer me a piece of paper with a phone number on it. After oscillating between the customer service desk and trying the phone number (I never did speak to an agent) I discovered I had been placed on standby, along with everyone else on two afternoon flights and reserved on a flight for January 1st. Rather than passively accept whatever crap they handed me, I decided to connect to Halifax airport's wi-fi (thank you Internet) and find another flight. WestJet came up empty but Porter Air had a flight leaving early the afternoon that went through Ottawa (YOW) and landed at the downtown Island Airport (YTZ, not YYZ which is Pearson Int'l). I booked it, I took it, and I landed terra firma at 4PM local time (30 minutes late due to head winds) which was only 6½ hours later than I should have arrived. 45 minutes later, I walked through my front door, over 30hrs faster than had I accepted Air Canada's offer. I later calculated I had travelled by car, jet plane, prop plane, passed through 4 airports (though only 2 security checks), took a ferry (probably less than 300ft separate the Island Airport from mainland Toronto), a bus, the subway and finally, a streetcar. I suppose if I'd taken my bicycle or hitched a ride on a donkey I would've covered every mode of transport. I'm like the armed forces (by land, sea and air). Ah well, that only leaves me to try to recoup my losses from the indubitable scoundrels at Air Canada (hereby known as Air Cannot). I will say this, while I'm opposed to an airport on Toronto Island (It doesn't make sense economically or environmentally and unbelievably, can take the same amount of time to get as Pearson), flying Porter does feel pretty glamorous. You get all the little perks such as complimentary lunch and Stella Artois and when you land on the island you see Toronto's skyline stretched out before you. All this while stepping out of a small twin prop plane onto the tarmac, followed by a short boat ride to shore. It's like you're in an old film noir movie or something ("this could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship" kind of movie). Shameful isn't it? Me enjoying glamour over principles.

The following video shows the storm that scraped over Halifax that begat my mini-epic odyssey in the first place.

Christmas Double-Oh-Seven

Is it true that you can never go home? I'm starting to believe it. For so many years the only place I could enjoy Christmas was in the house I grew up in. No matter how inviting another house was, I remained a guest in an alien place where everything seemed out of place. Now that alien place is the house where I grew up. For years I tried inventing traditions only to discover you can't. Traditions are just things that happen every year with only a minimum of effort. The more you force something, the more forced it feels. For the last seven years we've woven a Christmas that is tiring, full of eating and leftovers, new experiments and old favorites, and generally, I look forward to a few hours of bustling madness, followed by a few hours of intoxicating quiet. Best yet, our Christmas days are ones we make with very few obligations. We've been lucky. A Christmas in Toronto involves little travel, a lot of food and is pretty much done by midnight, December 25th. I had forgotten how Boxing Day can be drawing out Christmas a little too long (even if it's only 12 hours too long).

I can honestly say, that working over Christmas is actually not bad at all. Due to the absence of most everyone else, you can actually get a lot done with no interruptions, go for leisurely lunches without guilt, and get home easily because there's no traffic. Best of all, because you can't spend the day asleep with an unread book lying open on your chest, the Christmas hangover is, if not avoided, at least minimized. This year, I'll have to depend on James Bond, coffee and shoveling to stay alert while tiptoeing around the food, drink and ennui-induced Holiday Coma that results in the common amnesia that makes so many Christmases blend into one another. This year, while some will mourn the loss of Oscar Peterson, and Benazir Bhutto I'll mourn the loss of Christmas Past.

Hey everyone, I finally posted some Christmas pics which you can see here and if you're interested in hearing my dulcet tones I recorded a list of the kind of things we ate during Christmas week. I didn't intend on making a list, it just turned out that way.That's what happens when you work without a script. To hear my sotto voce click on the "play" icon.

New Porch Rail
Originally uploaded by rowdyman.

Here's the latest of the 'home improvements' - actually installed in November. We discovered that all of our neighbours had installed porch rails, usually temporary ones, because their insurers insisted upon it. Ours never has and probably never will, but after two different people took a slide off the steps last winter (I believe alcohol may have been involved - I can't say for certain), I thought it would be prudent to install a railing. I figured that a lot of these temporary things become more permanent the longer they are left, so I wanted something nicer than 2x4's but I also wanted to avoid going into the ground becuase a vertical post between the porch steps would be impossible to clear of leaves or snow. The solution, which isn't perfect, was to use these stainless steel connectors from a marine supplier. I also got the aluminum tube to go with it (which doubled the cost) but I didn't really like how it looked so I simply swapped out the aluminum for 1" dowel (oak is my guess, not sure really). I added some stain and voilà - instant porch rail. It only took about 10 minutes to install and probably less to remove. So at last we have the required railing and I'll assume our liability lessened.

Advent Calendar
Originally uploaded by rowdyman.

Not too long ago I was having the last two eggs for breakfast when I noticed how the container, once empty, reminded me of a depleted tray of chocolates. Taking this notion further I thought, if you trimmed the box a certain way, you'd be left with a tray with 24 compartments. For some time I'd wondered how there might be a way to easily make a customized Advent Calendar and here it was. Fill an empty egg carton with chocolates, and make your own box.

Unfortunately, I spent too much time making the box and getting the contents that I left precious little time to create the fun part - the cover. so I nicked some artwork from J. Otto Seibold (author of Olive the Other Reindeer and other fun stories). Still, something tells me penguins will be popular this year. Et voilà, just in time for the first Advent Sunday, I've managed to produce a couple of these things.

Hey, I'm not going to break Nestlé's tenacious grip on the Advent Calendar market or World Famous Chocolate's fascistic hold over scholastic almonds covered in shellacked waxy chocolate, but I just thought I could squeeze a couple of Advent Calendars out of my magic workshop.

I only had time to make one to mail it out in time for Sunday so that one went to Lucia in Seattle, and the other one, well, it may not be really sturdy enough for Canada Post's mauling mitts, so that one will be hand delivered to Gina. A third (forming a Trinity, if you will) will stay here in our T.O. manger - for there is no room at the inn.

Hopefully, this will begin a month long deluge of chocolates, licorice, cakes and tarts (but no hard toffee, I hate hard toffee - to hell with hard toffee - it's Christmas for God's sake, do not force me to put that English, tooth rotting gunk in my mouth!)

So this is Christmas...and what have you done? I made an Advent Calendar, what have you done, Mr. Lennon? Didn't think so.

By the way, click on the image above to see a few more pictures of the Advent Calendar

bread
Originally uploaded by rowdyman.

I've never claimed to be able to cook or bake only to be able to eat. Yet, when I watched this video for a simple bread recipe on NYTimes.com, I could barely believe what I was seeing. It's just a traditional water/flour/salt/yeast bread recipe.

I guess watching Mom bake bread for all those years, it just seemed kind of a big production and a lot of work. Even today when I tell people I was raised eating my Mom's homemade bread they are usually surprised. For urban folk, nothing could be easier than buying fresh baked bread - it's so easy that no one thinks twice about paying $3-$5 for a loaf. A neighbourhood is often graded on it's proximity to a good bakery. Our area, in particular, is embarrassingly rich in the fresh rye bread department. I met one neighbour who sighed, "Finally, there's somewhere on Roncesvalles to get a baguette." So, the thinking goes, why on Earth would you want to bake your own bread? It would take years to perfect and who has the time. Well, it appears, time is all you need. About 12-20hrs worth. Of course, you could do a whole bunch of things during that time. This recipe really only takes about 10mins of your time - the other 12 or so hours, the dough you make is doing all the work itself. Basically it shows how Bread Making machines work. There's really nothing to it - by that I mean, why own a bread making machine when you already own one - your very own oven?

The feeling of satisfaction of popping fresh bread out of the oven on a Sunday morning is unmatchable. Not to mention the affect of telling someone, "Yeah, I made this bread... no biggie." It's funny, re-reading the recipe now, it seems a lot more complicated than what I did. I just watched the video and did that. Mixed the ingredients on Saturday night, plopped it in the oven the next day. It's great and is almost like a sour dough (I suppose the whole 'natural sponge' thing is at work here). I actually went online to check out some forums (uh oh, BREAD GEEK ALERT) and I guess, using plenty of water and leaving the dough for longer, more like 18-20 hrs. even gives a better result.

I like that this is such an 'olde-tyme' traditional recipe, but it's so foolproof and no-fuss that it's completely anti-Martha Stewart. Bake and be joyful, and hopefully we can all break bread together soon.

PS. I noticed that this was the most e-mailed article on NYT the day it was posted, so I'm obviously not the only one fascinated with easily baked bread.

curtains drawn.jpg
Originally uploaded by rowdyman.

When we moved in, the first thing I wanted to change was the curtain in the living room. Well, three years on, we finally replaced that with a blind and finished it off with these curtains... ah relief.

living room
Originally uploaded by rowdyman.

This is a quick note to let everyone know I'm feeling much better - and my diet is increasingly solid - scrambled eggs no less! Last week I was in some pain, but after talking to the doctor he prescribed something that helped. It was a strong anti-inflammatory drug - which really helped with the pain. I guess it acts as a pain killer without any of the usual drowsiness or hallucinatory side effects (shame really - I was sort of hoping for a "Beatles go to India/ Timothy Leary" type of experience). It allowed me to sleep the whole night through which I think really improved my disposition. That drug is done now. It can be quite harsh on your stomach so you can only take it for a few days in succession. It got me through the rough spot and today I've just taken a few Advil and it hasn't been that bad.

Other than that, things should return to normal this week. We finally got our new blind for the living room and replaced the dreaded main sail that had been an imposing presence for 3 years. Of course, when we moved in, I said that curtain was the first thing that had to go. We'll be adding a curtain soon, but it looks nice without it. I've started building a new book shelf and I've got a couple of contracts lined up and if this fantastic weather holds up (sunny days, bearable heat, cool evenings) then August should be a very fine month. I'm looking forward to starting physio on my hand, which is healing well, and looking forward to general Santé! It would be nice to just be healthy for awhile.

Revue neon
Originally uploaded by rowdyman.

Tonight was the last screening at the Revue Cinema. Their last two shows were The Wizard of Oz and Lawerence of Arabia (they sold out having offered the tickets at $1 a piece). A community group has formed and hopefully the community at large will realize the importance of having a thriving local cinema as part of the diversity of the street. As I'm writing this I notice that the Revue's website is down. Hopefully it is only a temporary hiatus. There was a gathering of about 50 or so people outside the cinema tonight trying to rally support for their plan to operate the theatre as a not-for-profit business (sort of like me at the moment - sheesh).

I can't say I went to the Revue very often - maybe only 4 or 5 times, but it certainly warmed my heart knowing it was there. Hopefully they can make a go of running it. I have to admit, the way some people talk about opening a coffee shop or a restaurant, I always day dreamed about running a theatre. Well, I bought a "Save the Revue" t-shirt and I've signed on as a volunteer so we'll see just how far this goes.

Peter

living room
Originally uploaded by rowdyman.

This is our new living room light. In the background is our new dining room light. The significance of the living room fixture is that it replaces the last remaining light on the main floor from the previous owner. Now I don't want to judge the taste of others, but for me that old living room light hung over my head like a dark cloud - a dark cloud in the shape of an amber/bronzey/faux Victorian fly trap. Needless to say, I sleep better knowing the old light is now in the basement - except now I'm afraid to go down into the basement - for it lurks there still - lurking, waiting to illuminate a room in an unattractive manner. Click on the photo to see some more photos from May.

New (old) mower,
originally uploaded by rowdyman.

This weekend and the previous weekend have been pretty busy. Last weekend we finally got our new furnace and water heater, and we tore down our back fence. This weekend, I took Friday off and with our neighbours help we dug out holes for posts needed for our car port. Then, with perfect timing, our new mattress arrived. After 5 hours of jack hammering and augering, a good night's sleep was had by all.

And then there was TWO. That's right CAKEv2.0. All hail the Cakes! Next year for my birthday, I would like one of those feathers, like the Romans used after gorging themselves on birthday cake. Also, a pair of stretchy pants would be good. I ate like there was no tomorrow. Alas, there was a tomorrow and the eating had to stop somewhere. So far the month of March has come in like a Lion - a particularly contankerous lion with stinky gazelle breath. The sooner it goes out like a lamb the better - make mine with mint jelly. Cheerios.

February was a complete bust, but at least there was cake. Despite large doses of vitamin supplements, copious amounts of alcohol, St. Valentine's Day and numerous celebrity awards ceremonies, I could not overcome the February Melancholia. I've never cared for this month which appears to consist of nothing short of shocking cold, freezing rain, large heaps of sticky snow, brown city slush and an overall grayness that would make the inside of a potato sack seem cheery.

With my birthday weekend upon us, we did our best to salvage the month. The day went by without much happening, but dinner at, Xacutti (sha-cootie) really made things a whole lot better. I guess bbq'd ribs with a cinnamon sauce and rabbit tikki will cure what ails you. The next day a friend from Ottawa,Glenn, was in town staying with us and so on my birthday there was more than just the two of us. Glenn's appearance often coincides with excessive amounts of food. This time was no different. Take-out Thai food filled us to the brim, followed by hot cups of ginger tea and a most excellent dessert and I have to admit, that all of the well wishing phone calls were a treat too. Who doesn't like the doting attention of family and friends? The insane perhaps? So February ended on a brighter note than it began. Of course, March began with freezing temperatures and 15 cm of snow, thus leading me to believe that 'Mother Nature' is not a woman I would take into my confidence, for she is wholly untrustworthy and on occasion down right mean. It has come to my attention that I could, as an antidote to a wintery birthday, follow the Catholic practice of celebrating my Saint Day. It has also come to my attention that there are numerous St. Peters. If I were to pick Peter the Apostle however, the feast day would be June 29. Two days before Canada Day and generally considered a kinder, gentler time of year. Every dog must have his day in the sun, but this one prefers two.

I've posted a new batch of pictures here, half of which are from my trip back to St. John's for Dad's birthday. It was the first time I've been in Newfoundland in December for at least 5 years. I think I under dressed. Let's just say I brought two sweaters and I wore them both the whole time I was there. The trip put me in that nostalgic, Christmas mood early this year. I was more looking forward to it this year, I guess as Angela's health is so improved. It was Christmas Eve last year when she bought a glucose meter and took her first blood sugar level. A year later and she's eating pound cake and chocolates with the rest of us.

I got a great e-mail from Chris about Christmas remembrances and that got me thinking too. I actually remember going to cut a Christmas tree. We would go to some 'Crown Land' or some road that led into the woods behind Big Pond. We'd drive for ages. Some times it was muddy, and all I could see were wrecks of old cars or tractors hauled into the bush to rot away. Sometimes there would be snow down and this always meant that when walking through the trees, dumps of snow would fall down the neck of your coat. It reminded me a of cover of the Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe I'd seen somewhere. The last time I remember going was a day like that. It was a Saturday afternoon and we had to hurry before sunset. I thought for some reason, all the good ones would be gone, but I was assured there were plenty of good ones. That day Dad always seem to walk past perfectly good trees to some scrawny thing. It was as though he was thinning the forest and not really trying to pick a good tree. On the drive back, I watched a ski-doo buzz over a farmers field covered in snow. The dark purple of the winter dusk was like a heavy velvet stage curtain, and the yellow glow of the dashboard dials were the footlights. I wore a pair of fingerless gloves so, my fingers looked like legs sticking out of stockings. I walked my finger/legs across my side of the dash, making them kick like Dawson City dancers to the sound of Jingle Bell Rock playing on VOCM.

I don't remember having any really bad trees, but I do recall Dad fixing a few by whittling down a branch, and drilling some holes to 'fill' a tree out. It's surprising how many people you meet that have never gone that far for a tree. I remember the tin foil stars we have (and the story behind them), and the strangely half melted candle of Santa's head. The better part of Santa's cranium had melted away, leaving him with the type of skull found on archaeological digs. The type a researcher might hold aloft, in a Shakespearean manner and say, "We can tell by the damage to the back of the skull that this Santa died a violent death, perhaps a reindeer hoof to the head, here or here." Oddly, despite head trauma, the Santa candle remained jolly, laughing all the way, which only added to my fascination. Among the home made ornaments (foil wrapped egg cartons), were the school-made variety. One in particular still makes me laugh. It was one I made in third or fourth grade. We had to cut up old Christmas cards and assemble them to hang from the tree. I picked a card with an illustration of the holy family in the stable. Remember this was '76 or '77 and the illustration had pictured Jesus, Mary and Joseph as Sears catalogue models. I thought it was just so cool that Joseph looked just like my G.I. Joe. Yeah, G.I. Joe stormed the Christmas tree that year.

More than anything though I remember reading on the floor under the tree, and lying there looking up at the lights between the branches, spotting chocolate that I would have right after I woke up. It's the strange suspension of time that Christmas has that is it's strangest effect. The half-wakefulness of it. The short afternoons, and early evenings of December are very disjointing. This year, I've been taking large doses of vitamin D to counter the lack of sun. It hasn't helped. Tomorrow, I'm going back to work. I thought I could better stave off the down side of Christmas by being constructive. I always plan to do too much and I never accomplish a thing. I seem to get stuck in low gear, always looking in the fridge and picking at left-overs. I rented a stack of movies last Thursday, with the plan to just give in to the television. Last year, we had so many guests that I think in a way, there were more kitchen experiments, more conversations and generally a more lively time. I've noticed the photos I've posted look so much like last year, it's hard to know if they are new or not. I guess that's a tradition too, though I didn't think it would happen so fast. Trust me, these photos are new (by the way, I'm not sure why all of our photos have a yellow haze to them? No matter how many lights are on, the pictures are yellow and dim - I think it's a white balance setting in the camera or it's set for daylight instead of tungsten or something). A theme of the Christmas service I attended with Andy was that we live our lives in the present, so while it's nice to reminisce, we shouldn't dwell on the past. Yet I suppose by having new traditions we are just making new memories. Which is an odd way of saying I'm looking forward to looking back again next year. I hope you enjoy these pictures and send some of your own. Together we can bring down the Internet with our holiday snap shots.

Peter

I realized after posting those pictures that the video clips didn't load properly so I've re-posted them and added a BONUS video clip! That's right! View two, get a third free! That's just how much our customers mean to us!
Click here to see the first clip (description: Green house scene, butterflies flying by). I don't know if you've ever looked through catalogues of educational videos but they all have these basic descriptions. I know a guy, Jerry Bannister, who is now an associate professor of history at Dalhousie and winner of the John A. MacDonald Award for historical somethin' or other, who spent one summer working for a prof at M.U.N. writing such descriptions. He always said he wanted to slip some lewd or bawdy descriptions into the normally stale catalogue. Maybe I'll try to sex up these little clips to encourage your viewership.
Clip Two (description: Conservatory interior. Bucolic scene interupted when vicious butterfly attacks unsuspecting jacket.)
Bonus Clip!! (Description: Watch the sizzle, smell the tension, feel the heat, experience the vastness of a fifteen foot wide urban back yard! )

Autumn's here. You can tell by the wind and angle of the light. I always feel that if I were suddenly cast into a coma and lay there for twenty years (like Rip Van Winkle) and was roused on a sunny afternoon in October, that I could tell you it was a Saturday in October. This Saturday was the convergence of our eleventh anniversary (I know, I know...) and Thanksgiving weekend. We spent the day at the Butterfly Conservatory near, Niagara, Ontario. It's an enormous greenhouse where butterflies float and dodge like snowflakes. Some drift like scraps of paper while others flap furiously to hover above an alien looking blossom. If you lean in closely to examine a particularly iridescent specimen, you might be misted by automatic sprayers or collide with a brightly plumaged wing. No silk can match their colour, no map can chart their course (though of course, some entomological nerds claim to). Birdlike they ascend and like ash they fall. It's remarkable how fragile they seem. People walk along the pathways as though they were trying not to break spider's webs. You watch your step for fear of crushing one resting on the stones below. For all of this caution, these bugs have an average life span of a few weeks. Some varieties live longer and can last the winter by essentially filling themselves with a natural anti-freeze. My predominant thought was why are we so careful not to squish bugs in a green house, but seem thoughtlessly destructive anywhere else. Maybe it's because we paid $10 to see these bugs and didn't want to mess up what we just paid for. It just seemed odd that someone took great care to construct this conservatory, just for the beauty of butterflies, in which, we tip toe around the artificial nature, but in the world outside we just stomp around crushing actual nature at every opportunity. Ironically, just down the road from the conservatory is one of Canada's first hydroelectric stations. Finished in the '20's, Sir Adam Beck Power Station, was the largest of it's kind upon completion. At once a zenith of our engineering acumen and simultaneously a nadir of our reckless misuse and destruction of the world around us. I guess we pick and choose just what part of the environment we protect and what we neglect. After all, nobody is planning on building any Bat Conservatories any time soon.

Flower Power It's been over 3 weeks since Angela's surgery, and she's back to work and her stitches are healing, and yet, we still have flowers sprinkled around the house from well wishers. I know when you send a bouqet you never really get a chance to see the thing so, with that in mind I thought I'd post these photos so everyone would know what you sent arrived and how great it actually looked. Thanks again for all the thoughts and wishes of bon santé (if that's correct). I can tell you Angela was more overwhelmed by everyone's attention than the procedure itself. I'm happy to report that all of Angela's symptoms seem to have subsided, from high blood pressure to high blood sugar, the headaches, fatigue, sweating and heart palpitations all seem to be a thing of the past. Ang has a couple of follow up appointments, but it looks right now as though she's in the pink.

Another August has come and gone - here are the photos to prove it. Usually we cap off the summer with a big meal with family and friends yet, this year we really didn't have a big splash for Angela's birthday. Plus we thought we'd wait until her surgery was done before we do anything. Despite that and the cool weather we still had quite a bit of excitement this week. We had visitors from Vancouver, Ottawa and Rochester and before we knew it - Angela had another niece. Lucia Giuseppa McLaren, was born September 1, 2004 at 7:08 AM Pacific Time, at a small but healthy 5lbs 11oz. Unfortunately, no pictures at press time, but I'm sure I'll be posting some soon enough.
Peter

So for all of you who think it's absolutely balmy in San Francisco - think again. But it's still warmer than Toronto and there's less snow than St.John's. It's more like Vancouver at the moment.
I'm in San Fran until Friday, for work. When I got here, Oakland was cleaning up from the rioting after the Raiders won their big game to get into the Superbowl, so I'm pretty glad I'm on the opposite side of the Bay. Apparently, more avocados are consumed on SuperBowl Sunday than any other day of the year - all in the form of guacamole and nachos. Speaking of which, I had a Californian Breakfast treat this morning - The Breakfast Burrito - scrambled eggs, potatoes, ham, cheese and guacamole all wrapped in a big flat bread. Didn't have to eat for the rest of the day. The last couple of days have been really pretty dull. I find myself just sitting there, zoning out, thinking "do I really work for this company? Is this what I do for a living?" I guess so, because, here I am. No sight seeing on this trip though, I might try to slip out tomorrow at lunch to see the Cartoon Museum. I'm not really sure what day it is. Tuesday. I think. I go back on Friday but I leave in the morning so it really only gives me an extra night in San Fran. I'll probably end up working. It'll be crunch time and deadlines when I get back.

Saturday, we plan on having some friends over like Dave and Rebecca (pictured here in Manchester) and a few other friends from Angela's class. I guess I can call them former classmates now. Believe me it's still a relief. This meal we're having Saturday is to fight the January Blues. We've left up the Christmas lights especially for the occassion. I'll have to send out a photo of the apartment decorated for Christmas. It was pretty nice. So I have a nice meal and some friends to look forward to when I get home.