The Mathematics Of Snow Business

It's the first legitimate snowstorm of the 2013-2014 winter season. Environment Canada has forecast 30 centimetres of the white stuff, but I have my own way of calculating the severity of the weather. I use this formula:

Take the Environment Canada forecast (BS), divide by two (2), then decrease result (BS/2) by 10% (IDV) and that should give you the actual accumulation (SNOW).

BS/2 = BS2 * (1-IDV) = SNOW

Let's plug in the figures and see what we get.....30cm/2 = 15cm *(1-0.1) = 13.5cm. So, in reality we're going to get 13.5cm of snow, not 30 as forecast.

My method also works for Environment Canada's wind forecasts , though the formula is somewhat different, as follows: BS - BS = actual wind. Let's say that Environment Canada forecasts 70 km/h of wind, then using that number we can calculate the actual wind: 70km/h - 70 km/h = 0. No wind. This model never fails for wind. With snow it's accurate 4 times out of 5 when recommended by dentists who are + or - 3% useful, 19 times out of 20.

Owl Prowl And Tales Afoul

A few days ago Wendy and I spotted a snowy owl between the Jemseg Bridge and the Saint John River bridge. A week prior to that I had read an article stating that snowy owls were showing up in New Brunswick in record numbers. They would most like be spotted in areas that resembled tundra. Our owl was stationed twenty-five feet above the frozen marshy area known as the Grand Lake meadows.

Birdwatchers, no doubt, are going out of their minds. Snowy owls are relatively rare in New Brunswick, and spectacularly beautiful. I've only ever seen one other and that was twenty years ago, yet my recollection is pronounced.

So why would so many Hedwigs leave Hogwarts North to visit New Brunswick? It's likely on account of lemming populations being low. Maybe the lemmings went on a pilgrimage of their own (i.e. they took a short walk off a long cliff). In any event, we are the benefactors of this feathery, head spinnin' Christmas present. Lucky us.

When you see a snowy owl up close, you'll know it was a gift. They are truly one-of-a-kind in their appearance. Nothing else comes close. Do you want to see one? Good luck. They've been seen everywhere between Dalhousie and Grand Manan, but are tending to be seen in greater numbers along the eastern shores (i.e. Shediac).

Note: today's image must be credited to local ornithologist and wildlife photographer Wendy Nielsen.

Okay, I shouldn't do this, but I must elaborate on Wendy's innate ornithological abilities (Wendy, don't hate me for this). Here's the transcript of an actual bird watching discussion that once took place between us:

Wendy: what's that black bird with the red wings?

Ian: It's a red-winged blackbird.

I kid you not. That story is now comfortably placed near the top of our collective Varty/Nielsen ornithological lore archive (right up there with Julian faking out his grandparents with a bogus hawk sighting).

....And that rustling sound you hear underground is neither an Arctic lemming nor a Grand Lake swamp rat, it's John James Audubon turning in his grave.

Long Jian Varty

I left most of my 'good' clothes in Toronto so I've been a bit challenged when it comes to 'dressing up' in New Brunswick. I've decided that I can't dress up, so I'm not going to try. I'm going to dress down. Way down.

Looks like you've succeeded, Ian.

And then some! I refuse to play the game of fashion. I'm all about practicality and function. I don't wear a tie, because a tie won't keep me warm in the meat locker we call New Brunswick. I'm fffffreezing here, and I'm not going to take it. I'm going to wear whatever keeps me warm...and if I look like a retard, so be it (Sobey it!).

Using the word 'retard' is no longer politically correct, Ian.

Ask me if I care. For god's sake, look how I dress! Do you think political correctness is on my radar? I'm not collecting any P.C. points this week.

You placed your hand in front of your n_ts, that's P.C.

That's not politically correct, it's critically to protect.

On behalf of your readership (all three of us), I thank you for your discretion.

PinocchiArt

In Toronto I had stock-piled a number of photographs that would feed the blog, but here I sit in pixel-less Ste.Anne's Point (Plage Freddy B) with nary an image. It's -17 degrees outside which is enough to keep me from taking my camera outdoors.

What to do, what to do??

Aha! Apparently my lap top has a built in camera which I've never used for self portraits. Add a dash of Photoshop et voila! In this selfish portrait I notice that my schnoz is my most prominent feature. Sigh.

Craigslist Meltdown

I have a confession to make....

I'm a Kijiji ho. I'm forever trolling Kijiji in hope of finding the perfect guitar, windsurfing-mobile, piece of furniture, etc. When Kijiji fails me, I turn to Craigslist.

Craigslist is to Kijiji as the typewriter is to the computer. It's older, less flashy, not so many bells and whistles, eminently swear-worthy, but it still delivers the goods.

Over the centuries I've found some pretty hilarious typos in Kijiji and Craigslist, but these on-line classified ads are simply following in the footsteps of the great Daily Gleaner. The Daily Gleaner, Fredericton's official newspaper for almost 6000 years, has played host to some of the greatest doozies of all time. My favourite: 6, 8 and 10 foot lengths of eavesdropping for sale.

I kid you not. I saw this ad in the Daily Gleaner about ten years ago, and like a bad case of tinnitus, I just can't seem to get it out of my head. Kijiji and Craigslist give the Daily Gleaner a run for her money, at times. The most recent contender, found on Craigslist, was this: autistic guitar for sale.

I saw it on Craigslist Toronto about two weeks ago. I went back to Craigslist this morning to find the ad but it was gone. Either someone corrected the mistake or the guitar was sold. I suspect the guitar was sold either to an acoustic guitar player or an eclectic guitar collector.

Book Smarts

Although I'm now resting my derriere in Nouveau Brunswick, I still have a few things to say about Toronto. Today's topic: generosity, execution, book smarts and, surprisingly, racism.

Last Saturday morning, Wendy and I made our way up to the Christie Pits area of Bloor Street. The Christie Pits were once sand pits that were excavated to make this or that...out of sand...I suppose. Now they are an area of ball diamonds, grassy slopes and parkland. It wasn't always so tranquil (from Wikipedia):

On August 16, 1933, Christie Pits was the scene of a six-hour riot, mostly between the Anglo-Canadian Pit Gang (also called the Swastika-Club) and the a group of young men and boys, who were mostly Jewish with some Italians and Ukrainians, who were not a gang, but sometimes were incorrectly referred to as the Spadina Avenue Gang.^[5] One of the baseball diamonds was being used for a series of softball games between two local amateur teams, one of which predominantly consisted of Jewish players. Two nights earlier, at the first game of the series, there had been a display of a swastika and police were warned that there could be trouble at the second game. Those warnings were ignored, and after the second game, a blanket with a large swastika painted on it was displayed by members of the Pit Gang. The Jewish youths at the game responded to the display, supporters of both sides poured in from the surrounding streets and a riot ensued.^[6] The Toronto Daily Star captured the event the next day,

"While groups of Jewish and Gentile youths wielded fists and clubs in a series of violent scraps for possession of a white flag bearing a swastika symbol at Willowvale Park last night, a crowd of more than 10,000 citizens, excited by cries of ‘Heil Hitler’ became suddenly a disorderly mob and surged wildly about the park and surrounding streets, trying to gain a view of the actual combatants, which soon developed in violence and intensity of racial feeling into one of the worst free-for-alls ever seen in the city. Scores were injured, many requiring medical and hospital attention…. Heads were opened, eyes blackened and bodies thumped and battered as literally dozens of persons, young or old, many of them non-combatant spectators, were injured more or less seriously by a variety of ugly weapons in the hands of wild-eyed and irresponsible young hoodlums, both Jewish and Gentile".

That pretty covers the racism portion of my blog, wot wot? Let's lighten things up and talk about execution, generosity and book smarts. As I mentioned, Wendy and I made our way up Grace Street from Harbord to Bloor. Along the way we were stopped dead in our tracks by what appeared to be a mailbox, but it wasn't a mailbox. It was Toronto's smallest outdoor lending library!

On the front 'lawn' of this particular house was a cottage-shaped box with a glass door and a shingled roof.  It was thoughtfully made (execution), full of books (smart) and there for the neighbours to enjoy (generous).  The happily cursive sign on the outside said 'hello neighbours...borrow, read, return'.

Life is full of 'feel good' moments, and this was definitely one of them. What could you do in your life to make your neighbourhood a better place to live? Even a small gesture can have a big impact. This little library was, in many ways, bigger than the Metropolitan Toronto Library on Yonge Street.

This Ain't Kansas, Dorothy.

And this ain't Toronto, Wendy.

No, we're not in Toronto. We're in the Narrows of Nouveau Brunswick. There's the lightest of snow falling outside, almost like icing sugar. Inside the temperature is rising, thanks to our pellet stove.

It's good to be home.