The Pop-eye!

Alzheimer's Disease has taken a lot of things away from my Mom. It's taken away her ability to walk. When she speaks, we often don't understand what she's saying. She has trouble focusing a lot of the time which leads me to believe that her vision has been compromised. She has difficulty using her arms for anything but the most simple of tasks. Some days it seems like Mom isn't even in the room with us, when she obviously is. With all of these things fading away, you might wonder what's left. I'll tell you what's left....

Mom. The one thing that Alzheimer's has not been able to rob her of is her sense of humour and that may be her greatest character trait. It's still there. In many ways it's improved, although Mom historically loved a good hysterical laugh. Mom communicates with facial gestures as much as anything these days. Her face reads like a book, and she's a master of comic timing.  Yesterday she spent the entire two hours of my visit hamming it up and laughing.

The highlight of yesterday's visit was 'the Pop-eye'. I've never been able to capture it on video until yesterday, thank goodness. The Pop-eye is a rare gesture, used sparingly. Julian named the gesture 'the Pop-eye' because, well, just watch a Pop-eye cartoon and you'll know.

Aw, hell, I know you'll never watch a Pop-eye cartoon. Here, take a look at this...tell me you can't see the similarities!

Heliopsis? Auchs Aye!

T'is the season for heliopsis in my garden. Everywhere I look, things are golden yellow...and I like it. Heliopsis is a Greek word meaning 'sun' (helios) and 'appearance' (opsis). Though heliopsis sounds exotic, it really just means 'looks like sun'.

That reminds me of the early days of place naming in New Brunswick by the first wave of European visitors. They took one look at the large bay just upriver from Reversing Falls and said 'auch aye, it's a grand bay', so Grand Bay it became. They traveled further upriver and found a really big lake. Of course they named it Grand lake.

They found another really large lake on the western border of New Brunswick. So what did they call it? Grand Lake. Doh! We now have at least two Grand Lakes in New Brunswick. Early settlers weren't always the most imaginative, though they called it like they saw it.

Heliopsis also has another name...ox-eye. Now that's creative, but I'm not sure how/where they found the inspiration....

X-Ray

Now that I'm a senior citizen (age 50), I visit my doctor regularly. Today's 'fun' is an x-ray for my chest. I've had a persistent cough for six weeks now. It started with a chest cold and simply hasn't gone away. I wonder what they'll find.....

Cute Little Dutch Girl?

A couple of weeks ago Wendy and I were talking with one of our good neighbours. During the conversation the blackflies became quite unbearable so Wendy cinched in her hoodie top which made it very close fitting. I took one look at her and thought 'Dutch speed skater'. I asked her to pose on the highway, to which she obliged.

Can you see what I saw? The form fitting, aerodynamic top. The powerful skater legs, etc. She has a bit of a crazed look in her eyes which would lead me to believe that perhaps she's from Amsterdam. I don't want to suggest that we test her for drugs just yet. Let's wait until we see if she qualifies for the Olympics first.

Stoned!

Though not yet done, I've made some forward progress with my round deck in the woods. Yesterday I started to surround the deck with flagstone and I built up an approach-way with gravel and stone. It's starting to take shape, but there's need for more rock.

Julian! Help!!

Form Or Function?

I was looking at a car in Fredericton yesterday and thinking how useless the back seats were. It was a low slung, two door car with minuscule back windows and equally minuscule back seats. I suppose the back seats would have been okay for transporting a couple of wee bairns, but otherwise they were of no use to anything more evolved than a bag of groceries.

This brings to mind the age old question: what's more important, form or function? Historically I think it's safe to say that function trumped form nine times out of ten, but nowadays I'm not so sure that the scales are tipped in the favour of function.

The boat in today's picture is all about function. It's big. It's boxy. It's a tad homely, but it functions beautifully (unless you want to go somewhere fast). If you want to live aboard a boat, then this baby's for you. If you want to speed along at forty knots (to the nearest set of gas pumps), then you'd better look elsewhere.

I think that I'm a 'function' kind of guy. Form is nice, and I do appreciate aesthetics, but I'll choose function every time. Gawd, just look at what I drive for a car!

This Ain't No Book About Nature...Or Is It?

With the passing of Farley Mowat this spring I decided it was high time to read one of his books since my eyes had never scanned a word that he ever wrote. I read 'Never Cry Wolf' and I enjoyed it immensely. I remember saying, at the time, that every Canadian should read that book.

Yesterday was a rainy day, quite miserable, so I decided to read another Farley Mowat book. 'And No Birds Sang' had been sitting unread in my house for about a month, and yesterday was the day. I presumed, from the title, that it was a book about the pitiful state state of the Canadian wilderness. Boy, was I wrong.

'And No Birds Sang' was an autobiographical account of Mowat's time as a soldier during World War 2. It was an account of his introduction into the army, subsequent dispatch to Great Britain for training and then ultimately his initiation to battle in Sicily and mainland Italy. Like 'Never Cry Wolf', everyone should read this book, particularly those who face challenges ahead.

Ultimately this book is about nature....human nature. And war. Neither of the two are all that attractive, but we can't deny their existence so we'd all be well served to do some advance reconnaissance. My suggestion? Read this book.

Why I'll Never Become An Excellent Windsurfer...

I enjoyed 20 minutes of  wind, enough to get this jump.
Photo credit: Julian Varty.

Frustrated. That's the word that best describes me when I talk about windsurfing. New Brunswick does not get good wind in the spring, summer or fall, and I acknowledge that fact, but occasionally we do get wind. Or we're told we are to get some.

Twice this summer I've driven to Saint John because Environment Canada has forecast a wind of 30-50 km/h. That's an ideal wind for windsurfing. A wind of that magnitude creates ideal conditions for the sport that I love. When a wind of 20 km/h is forecast, there's a 50/50 chance that you'll be able to windsurf. When a wind of 30-50 is forecast, one would assume that your chances of windsurfing increase. Not so.

A wind of 30-50 km/h has only been forecast for Saint John twice this summer. I drove there both times. Both times the wind didn't happen. I know that wind is tricky to forecast, but if you can't do it......DON'T TRY!

One last word on this topic.....ACK!

Now, what am I going to do about this problem? How should I deal with the problem of Environment Canada's lousy wind forecasts? I have no idea.

I know! Why not issue a fatwa?

Of course I don't mean this literally. That's a bit much. I hate what their forecasts are doing to the windsurfing community (ruining it), but a holy war won't ever happen.

I agree, a holy war is going to far. Environment Canada is, figuratively speaking, killing us. We must simply forgive them for their sins and move on...to the Gorge or the Magdalen Islands. Windsurfing for New Brunswick, sadly, has been cancelled this year.

Wendy (almost) Jogs A Mile!

We all set goals. Mine is to get through a summer without having any interaction with my evil neighbour. A week ago she was on my property 'rearranging' things. On Monday of this week she gave me the finger while I was floating in my rubber dinghy on the lake. She also made a disparaging remark. Ack, the miserable old cow. But enough about my unrealistic dreams. Let's talk about Wendy's because they are, at least, realistic.

Wendy has challenged herself to run from our driveway to Nan's Store and back. It is precisely one mile. If you click on today's image you will be taken to a video which shows Wendy training for her one mile run. The video itself is just over four minutes long and it depicts Wendy running one mile....almost. How is this possible? Is Wendy almost running the four minute mile? You'll never know until you click on the link!

Jack Of All Trades

Julian (oenophile)

The lovely little Village of/de Gagetown decided to start a farmers market this summer and to that, I say, great idea! I say that based on experience because Wendy and I visited the market this past Sunday.

Every year I undertake a voyage of discovery to Gagetown by boat. The boat in question is my 12 foot tin boat with 9.9 hp outboard. This a small boat...a very small boat. Taking it to Gagetown is fine as long as the lake is absolutely flat calm. This past Sunday the lake was like a mill pond and it was also sunny and warm...perfect for a trip to The Gage.

Wendy and I left our place at 10 a.m. sharp and arrived in Gagetown at 11 a.m. more or less. Along the way we passed not a single boat on the Washademoak, nor were we passed by a single boat. It was almost eerie, there was so little sign of life. We did pass two boats between the end of the Washademoak and Gagetown but, effectively, we were the only two people enjoying such a splendid morning. I can only assume that all others were hungover, choosing to sleep in in their trailers.

We arrived just in time as the market began at 11 a.m. and the choicest of delicacies goes to those who arrive first. No kidding....there's a woman who makes gourmet breads and she sold out within 20 minutes! Our dear friend Alexandra (she who once ran Beamsley's Coffee House) was selling her scrumptious oatcakes. I swear that I'd swim from the Narrows to Gagetown to buy her oatcakes. There were people selling produce and home-made almond milk, a knitter, pottery being sold by a local sweetheart, bbq'ed food, paintings, baked goods (schweeties), honey, and much more. It was a smallish market but the quality was very high.

Oh! I forgot to mention that there was wine there too. A local vineyard was set up and they were selling wind hand over fist. The person selling the wine looked young, but he appeared to be an expert in terms of knowledge, rattling off wine facts to an inquisitive public. Wine experts are known as oenophiles.

Julian's resumé from this summer has been quite impressive: musician, lawn mower, web designer, landscape construction associate, baker,  oenophile/wine seller, and as always gerontologist/grandson. Not bad at all!

Wendy and I left Gagetown at 12:30 p.m. and boated home. We experienced considerably more boat traffic on the ride home but, all things considered, it was still relatively quiet. We saw three large sailboats in Colwell's Creek, one being a large and gorgeous Hinckley. We watched an eagle glide down and snatch something, presumably a fish, from the surface of the lake. All in all, an incredibly delightful day...exactly what life at the lake should be!

The Challenge: Prove That The Peanut Gut Chipmunk Feeder Works!

Humans have a curious history of trying to tame wild beasts. We all remember (and perhaps silently applauded) the tiger that mauled Roy Horn (Siegfried and Roy). Things didn't go so well for Roy when the white tiger tried to eat his head (and was 25% successful!). Sometimes wild animals should be left alone....in the wild.

There was also a story about a man named Timothy Treadwell who summered in Alaska for 13 years. He loved to commune in nature with the grizzlies. You might say that he knew them inside out because in 2003 he was found inside a grizzly bear's stomach.

If there's a lesson to be learned here, it's respect Mother Nature and all of her creatures, especially the ones big enough to kill you. Now, here's my dilemma.....we have a chipmunk on our property that we feed peanuts. We call him Chippy. Often we sit on our deck and hand feed him peanuts in the shell. On more than one occasion Chippy has hopped up on our seats looking for more peanuts. This is not my dilemma. My dilemma is that Julian has challenged me to stick a peanut in my ample belly button to see if Chippy will retrieve it.

I'm tempted to try this stunt but at the same time I am troubled by my knowledge of what happened to Roy Horn and Timothy Treadwell. Can I trust Chippy not to move north from the lone peanut and go for the jugular? Or worse yet, what if he goes south?

Note: as of this point, Julian has not offered me any money to perform this feat of stupidity. I doubt I'll do it unless enticed by money.

P.S. Is it just me, or does my gut in this picture resemble a cinnamon raisin bagel?

The Pines Conservation Park

My plan yesterday was to photograph Wendy and her friend Gill jogging. While waiting for them I wandered into The Pines Conservation Park and got inspired with my camera and a slow shutter speed with a panning motion. Perhaps tomorrow we'll have a look at the joggers.

Mother Of A Moth

 When something large is flying around your yard at twilight, it can only be one of three things:

1) a bat
2) a moth
3) a neighbourhood witch on a broom.

Given that almost every bat in New Brunswick died from white nose fungus, it seemed likely that I was seeing either a moth or a witch. It turned out to be a moth, thankfully, and what a mother of a moth!

I'm no expert at identifying moths, but I'm intelligent enough to know that it wasn't a luna moth. I had, in fact, seen moths like this one before but I'll be damned if I can remember what they were called.

Ian be damned.

This called for a research foray to the internet. Stay tuned.

So, it looked like it's my good friend Antheraea polyphemus! Basically it's a giant silk moth. Here's some facts about this moth, from Wikipedia:

The Polyphemus Moth (Antheraea polyphemus) is a North American member of the family Saturniidae, the giant silk moths.^[1] It is a tan colored moth, with an average wingspan of 15 cm (6 inches). The most notable feature of the moth is its large, purplish eyespots on its two hindwings. The eye spots are where it gets its name – from the Greek myth of the Cyclops Polyphemus. The species is widespread in continental North America, with local populations found throughout subarctic Canada and the United States. The caterpillar of the Polyphemus Moth can eat 86,000 times its weight at emergence in a little less than two months.

Can you imagine eating 86 000 times your weight in two months?

"I could."

Mike Hughson, is that you?!

Musicians and Magic Moments

Recently I had the great pleasure of visiting my Mom's nursing home on the same day that Wendy's Uncle David was playing his fiddle there. David is very generous with his musical talent, appearing monthly, and the audience was most appreciative. The wife of one of the nursing home residents was telling me that David is by far the best of the fiddlers who visit the nursing home. She mentioned that he's the only fiddler who is talented enough to play Orange Blossom Special, a particularly challenging piece of music.

David is no mere fiddler. He's got music coming out of every pore. He's a multi-instrumentalist who can play many instruments frontwards and backwards (literally). There are a lot of talented musicians in the world, but only a small percentage are also entertainers. It's quite a combo when you see musical skill combined with the ability to engage an audience. When you've got these two skills, you're well on your way to going wherever you want to go. Uncle David has it. Gary Morris has it. Tommy Emmanuel has it. Ian Varty doesn't....but he appreciates it.

I also witnessed this happening at a coffee house performance in the Village of/de Gagetown recently. A two piece duo took their musical skill and added some theatrics and crowd pleasing banter. By doing so they added fifty members to the band and became one happy orchestra. The magic started long before the performance. It started when the duo chose their repertoire....a four song set that was appropriate for the venue and the audience. There were mellow moments, rising crescendos, and even some amazing fireworks. It's exactly what Uncle David did too, and though it's a musical performance, it felt like a magic show.

When Dragons Fly....

Is there an insect any more gorgeous than the dragonfly? Sure, there may be some that are more colourful, but from a pure design standpoint, the dragonfly is spectacular. Nothing else flies like them, right? Have you watched a butterfly fly...it's like a drunk teenager that forgot to take its Ritalin. The dragonfly, in contrast, moves with military precision (some restrictions apply: see HMCS Whitehorse during 'happy hour' for details).

I also appreciate that dragonflies occasionally land on my clothing. You can even sometimes coax them to land on your hand. They make great pets for a few fleeting seconds.

A few weeks ago Wendy and I were floating on the lake in our inflatable pleasure yacht. As we were returning to shore I noticed something struggling on the surface of the lake. We paddled back out and found a dragonfly that had somehow landed upside down on the water. The adhesive quality of water combined with the nature of the dragonfly's wings put this particular dragonfly in great peril (translation: fishy snacks). We rescued the dragonfly and felt good about it. We wouldn't have done that for a horsefly! I wouldn't have done that for a horse, either. Or a Sheltie (hehe).

Once, while achored in Gagetown Creek, Wendy and I watched a few thousand dragonflies in the air at once. That was fifteen years ago but it feels like yesterday. Spectacularly memorable.

Do you know much about dragonflies? I don't. If you'd like to learn more, follow the link below to the Smithsonian's web site. Here you'll find a short article entitled '14 Fun Facts About Dragonflies'. It's quite interesting and you might just sweep the 'flying dragons' category on Jeopardy! someday.

http://www.smithsonianmag.com/science-nature/14-fun-facts-about-dragonflies-96882693/

The Gagetown Coffee House Sessions: Part Three (Out In The Sandbox)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wMhtDAG-BHY

Julian and Shane performed four songs at the coffee house in Gagetown. They opened the show with a song called 'Brian Wilson' by the Barenaked Ladies. It was a clever first choice of songs, as it warmed the crowd up for what was to follow (Pinball Wizard was song #2).

The Gagetown Coffee House Sessions: Part Deux (Mama's Got A Squeeze Box!)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b7jqxNV-fYw&feature=youtu.be

Opera is sort of cool, but playing the accordion is even cooler. The link above will take you to Wendy's first ever live public performance as an accordion player. Literally and figuratively...music to my ears!

The song: California Stars (written by Woody Guthrie)
Guitar and Vocals: Julian Varty
Vocals: Shane Armstrong
Accordion: none other than Wendy Nielsen!

The Gagetown Coffee House Sessions: Part One (How Do You Think He Does It?)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dyPoLKy11hM

We originally called our rock band The Village Idiots, mostly because the two senior members were, in fact, idiots of the village. The two younger members of the band, Julian and Shane, are hoping to become full-fledged idiots but they're not there yet. They'll have to devolve considerably to attain that misnomer. They are simply too musical.

We used to have a catch phrase for The Village Idiots and that catch phrase was 'we're entertainers, not musicians'. For me that always felt like the truth, though I always considered Julian and Shane to actually be musicians, not entertainers. Something happened on Saturday night at the coffee house in Gagetown. For the first time in Julian's life, I believe, he was a musician and an entertainer. Ditto for Shane, to the best of my knowledge. The results, of being both musicians and entertainers, were palpable judging by the screams from the audience.

Julian and Shane performed four songs at the Gagetown coffee house on Saturday night. In today's blog we'll take a look at Pinball Wizard, a song originally written and performed by The Who. I'll take credit for the miserable quality of the video (mental note: buy a proper video camera). The credit for the excellent performance goes 100% to Julian 'Townsend' Varty and Shane 'Daltry' Armstrong. Julian described the evening as "the most fun I've ever had in my life". That pretty much sums up life as a musician and an entertainer.

Ian Bueller's Day Off

So....Wendy said to me "Ian, you work too much. You need to take a day off. You need to to relax, man. You need to let your hair down. You need to go wild!"

She never actually said any of that, but I imagined that she was probably thinking those thoughts. Because of my workload, I've never really had a day off in 22 years. I don't even know what people do on their days off, so I decided to watch an instructional DVD. The movie was called Ferris Bueller's Day Off and it was, more or less, a guide as to one behaves on their day off. Ferris did a number of things on his day off, the most notable was to join a parade. I decided to give it a try....

Me Mootha: A Two Hour Time Lapse Movie

As an experiment I hooked up my camera to my Mom's wheelchair and filmed a time lapse movie (one picture per minute for a two hour span). I started at 4 p.m. when we were sitting outside and continued through supper (indoors) until she finally fell asleep around 6 p.m.

July Flowers

If you took a composite snapshot of the flowers in my garden on July 10, as I did, then this is what you'd get.

Let's Talk About Lovely Legs

Here I go again....discussing my least desirable body parts. It's a bit of a theme in my life. I'm always, for example, talking about my gut. Compared to all my other body parts, my stomach is just a little bit bigger, and that's why it gets the bulk of my disdain. The fact is that I've got a small gut, especially when you compare it to the average New Brunswick man. A lot of local guys look like they're eleven months pregnant...with twins!

A lot of uber religious zealots think that dinosaurs roamed the earth about 6000 years ago, then went extinct. They pretty much believe the Flintstones was a non-fiction documentary cartoon, though perhaps not so far as to use a woolly mammoth as a shower nozzle or a turtle on a stick as a  lawn mower. I believe that we humans are evolving into dinosaurs, at least in terms of size. We are getting bigger and bigger. Take a look around the Oromocto Mall sometime. The brontosaurus is back!

Whoa...I'm getting sidetracked. This blog is supposed to be about my physical woes. If I could change one thing about my physique, surprisingly it wouldn't be the gut of which I incessantly speak. It wouldn't be about my ample nose, balding head or salmon-like shoulders. No, it would be about my legs, because....

I. Have. No. Legs.

In today's illustration/image I've used Celine Dion's legs in place of my own because they're bigger and more impressive. Celine Dion's legs are like two pool cues on a hunger strike....and mine are smaller! <sigh>
The only thing more depressing than having Celine Dion legs would be to have the rest of her (the parts that talk or sing!). But enough about Celine, let's talk about love....

I love to talk about my gut. I honestly think that I'd be depressed if I had a six-pack stomach...I'd have nothing to whine about other than the Environment Canada wind forecasts, idiot drivers, my idiot neighbours and their moronic mutt, potholes, refined sugar in bran flakes, the decline of the Tim Horton's apple fritter, telemarketers, noisy Cigarette boats, jet skis doughnuteers, Stephen Harper's politics and hair, David Alward's politics, and why banana prices at the Co-op are always better than the Superstore. In contrast to this partial list, my gut rants don't have legs to stand on because I don't really have a gut, so that's why I rant about my legs now....if I had some.

You've got some 2000 body parts (unsubstantiated independent study, Lever Brothers Corporation). Which do you like? Which do you dislike? Which are you missing?

P.S. That's not my gut and man boobs in today's image. Mine are waaaaay bigger.

Where Is DOT?

Earlier this year a man in Saint John got into trouble for filling a pothole himself, because the city of Saint John's road maintenance crew never fixed it. According to the law, ordinary citizens aren't allowed to make repairs to highways and streets. That's the domain of an entity that we believe in, but never see. It's known as DOT, but it might just as well be GOD.

DOT is the Department of Transportation and they're in charge of maintaining our provincial roads. I remember, in the old days, when they'd be filling potholes in the spring. For some reason I never see them anymore. It's July 9 and the potholes are unfilled and actually getting bigger and more dangerous. I wouldn't want to drive a motorbike on the roads of this province. Hauling a trailer must be a nightmare. Something better be done soon because it's already way too late.

The guy in Saint John who filled the potholes on his street should be treated as a folk hero. He is to me. I call him a progressive vigilante. A Robin Hood of the roads. A roads scholar! A conscientious objector. Call him what you will, he did what we'd all like to see done....fix the friggin' roads so they're safe.

It bugs me that the potholes aren't being fixed, but what really gets me is that I don't know why the potholes aren't being fixed. There must be a reason. If the DOT wasn't given enough money by the Finance Department, I'd at least like to know. Until I find out, I'm going fill potholes myself......literally (see image). It's a win-win situation. It makes me feel productive. It makes the roads safer for motorists, and it provides employment for students as well.

With a brain like mine, why am I not the Premier of New Brunswick?

Phoney Help

There is either one single 'genius' or a team of geniuses working at our local phone company, Bell Aliant. I know this for a fact.

My phone is currently not working. It hasn't been working for three days now. My internet wasn't working either but magically it came back yesterday when our power returned. Did I mention that the remnants of a hurricane blew through New Brunswick on Saturday, leaving tens of thousands without power and/or phone?

It would be 100% understandable that my phone would not be working, after all there were thousands of trees toppled by the storm. Undoubtedly lines are down everywhere. I have no beef with my phone company for this. Succinctly stated, shit happens. I do have one beef with Aliant, however.

I went on-line to check out Aliant's web site for helpful information. I didn't find any, but that's somewhat understandable. It would be nearly impossible to address all of the issues that might arise. What really made me laugh is that I followed Aliant's chain of helpful questions, as follows:

1) What type of help do you need? I clicked 'technical support or repair.
2) For which service? I clicked 'home phone'.
3) Choose a contact option. It gave me a phone number to call.

So, to tell them that my phone isn't working, I need to call them. You see my dilemma, right?

Toronto Hotties Won't Let Hurricane Arthur Spoil Their N.B. Tanning Plans

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w1oOmfAo5j0&feature=youtu.be

Hurricane Arthur Batters Crackerjack Meteorologist Ian Varty

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cgMqMEbYH3I&feature=youtu.be

Deck Round

Yesterday Julian and I installed an eight foot round deck that we built in the wooded area of our property. As you can see, the deck is adjacent to the hammock. My idea was for the deck to provide a seating area in the shadiest part of the property, also allowing someone to socialize with the hammockites.

I made the deck round because I'm sick of all things square, rectangular, or with straight edges. I think it's my way of 'fighting' the squareness of the city. Rounded shapes feel more organic ad natural. Ultimately they're more pleasing to my eye.

I'll need to build some sort of step up to the deck, likely out of stone since I like the look of natural stone as an accent. That will have to wait for at least a day. This morning the scene outside my window is far less tranquil. The remnants of hurricane Arthur are passing through New Brunswick: gusty north winds, torrential rain, dark skies. Not a day to be doing anything outside, except perhaps windsurfing!

Julian Varty: Part-time Economist, Leisurologist, Musician, Windsurfer

Yesterday was a picture perfect windsurfing day for someone trying to elevate their windsurfing game from beginner to intermediate status.

Did someone say 'Julian'?

Yes, indeedy! Julian made some good progress yesterday on the windsurfer. He did a beach start, used the harness much of the time, and got planing with good speed (see today's first image). He got upwind with relative ease and only fell once, I think.

Here's a picture of Julian's wipe-out. If you look closely I think that you can see one foot. Everything else is underwater! It was a classic lay back wipe-out, quite different from the wipe-outs that Jason used to have. Jason always got catapulted over the front. Though not fun for the person getting catapulted, it made for great hilarity among the spectators and especially for the photographer! Julian was talented enough not to be catapulted (sorry, Jason).

Slow News Day

It occurred to me the other day that I hadn't seen a raccoon in our neighbourhood this summer, and then BAM, there it was! The granddaddy of all raccoons!!

Lessons Never Taught At Truck U.

As I was walking past these two trucks yesterday I was struck by how aggressive they look, at least at first glance. They're big and tall. They have menacing looking grills that seem to say 'watch out'. The push bar on the Dodge (left) says 'if you don't get outta my way, I'm a gonna push ya outta my way' with a blustery bit of Yosemite Sam swagger.

There is no question that the major truck manufacturers in North America (GM, Ford, Dodge) are building trucks that appeal to manly men. All real men drive trucks, right? If you want to be a 'good ol' boy', then you don't show up to the party unless you arrive in a truck. Note: a gun rack ups your rural route cred (formerly known as street cred) even if the only thing you ever hunt for is another roll of toilet paper to wipe your big, fat....ask anyone, it's true.

These trucks could eat my car for breakfast and burp me out like an afterthought. They could suck gas out of shale rocks themselves if they had a fracking straw that was long enough. They could impregnate a parking lot on a summer's evening. They are manly, but what's with all the chrome detailing? Chrome doesn't belong in the woods, Chrome doesn't like mud. Chrome isn't happy in a gravel pit. Chrome is for sissies. Chrome is for posers and pretty boys. Chrome isn't for real men.

Think about it. Did the sea captains of yesteryear tart up their fishing boats? Did the whaling fleets of New Bedford (MA) bling their bows? Do those brave (or stupid) enough to climb Mount Everest take anything along for the ride that isn't absolutely a necessity to ensure life? The answer to all of these questions is a resounding 'hell no'.

So why are the modern trucks of most modern men pretty? Is there an underlying message there? Does it say that men want to appear tough on the outside, but really we just want to be held? Does it say we want to be shiny and pretty? Does it say that we want to be noticed? I suspect that most women are oblivious to these pretty trucks, which insinuates or suggests that men drive tarted up trucks to attract the attention of other men. So what does that say?

I think I'll stop here....it's your turn to think it over. Trucks are built to perform heavy duty tasks like hauling three quarters of a ton of cinder blocks and scrap metal, so why all the lipstick?

Lady Merganser

Lady Merganser,
Ducklings at your feet,
Wonder how you manage,
To make ends meet.

I do wonder, except NO DUCKLINGS. Back in May Lady (Hooded) Merganser was courted by Drake (Hooded) Merganser. They did everything that a couple in love should do, I presume. He hung around for a week or more. She invited him up to the oak tree nest to 'see her etchings'...blah, blah, blah. He left. She stayed.

Houston, we have a problem. I've been waiting for weeks now to see some ducklings jump out of the tree onto our lawn. But NO DUCKLINGS. Lady Merganser faithfully tends the nest, but enough time has passed that I'm now wondering if something went wrong.

What could have gone wrong? I've compiled a list of possible scenarios....

1) Drake Merganser was a gay art enthusiast and was actually interested in her etchings, not her.
2) Drake Merganser is hetero, but impotent.
3) Lady Merganser was frigid.
4) Lady Merganser was impotent.
5) Merganser eggs take 3 to 5 years to hatch and I'm simply being impatient.
6) Lady Merganser lives in the nest but has decided, due to financial limitations, that now is not the time to raise a family. Note: her lackluster portfolio hasn't performed as was predicted by her financial adviser, who took his 2% cut anyway, leaving her no option but to wait until her R.O.I. improved.
7) The eggs froze in early June.

Any of these seven scenarios are possible. All I know is that 'I paid my five bits to see the high divin' act, and I'm a gonna see the high divin' act'! I really would  love to see the ducklings jump from the nest. I've seen it once, about 7 years ago, and it was amazing. It's a 20 foot drop from the nest to the ground, and the ducklings do it fearlessly. For now, I'm waiting, waiting, waiting....