|Our "lodgings" in Kenora|
Saturday, July 27, 2013
Friday, July 26, 2013
Thursday, July 25, 2013
|Sarah about to "test the waters"|
|Kayaks again, in a different light|
Wednesday, July 24, 2013
|The "quick-up" tent we use for travelling|
Wednesday, June 12, 2013
|The Sketchbook Project trailer|
Sunday, April 14, 2013
I've been asked a couple of times recently if I've lost the impulse to do this blog—or, really, any other writing for that matter—and the question is a perfectly valid and simple one. The answer, to be blunt, is no. No, I have not lost the impulse to post here or elsewhere, although it would be a lot easier if that was the case. I could just say, "gee, that was fun while it lasted," and be done with it. But the truth is lot more difficult.
You see, how it works is this: I want to post every single day and most of the time I actually know exactly what I want to post about. However, the depression and accompanying social anxiety is so strong that it's practically crippling. Take my most recent post, for example—the one that broke a long period of darkness on this blog. I originally wrote all of that as a Facebook entry that day and it took a great deal of willpower to convince myself to turn it into a blog post instead. Facebook is much, much safer; I don't feel like I owe anybody anything over there and I can even control the specific audience that can see what I write (for example, that post about the Blue Jays would have only gone out to a select few people on my "Sports" list). I read it over before I hit "enter" on Facebook and decided it was so long and passionate that it deserved to be a blog post instead. And still, I wavered. Would this be an "appropriate" piece to break the silence? Would anybody read it? Would it be "worthy" to go up alongside my older postings? In a burst of inner strength, I went ahead and posted it anyhow—and then walked away from the computer immediately so I wouldn't change my mind.
Wednesday, April 3, 2013
Some random musings about the issues I see with the Jays after their first game last night, in no particular order:
J.P. Arencibia is not a very good defensive catcher, even when the pitcher throws straight fastballs. Last night he was charged with "only" three passed balls (a wild pitch was inexplicably charged to R.A. Dickey as well) but I'd have had to remove my shoes to count the number of pitches he flat-out missed on all of my digits. It was discomfiting, to say the least.
The "new-look Jays" had quite a few "old-look problems", but one manifested itself very early as Jose Reyes reached base on a walk leading off the first inning and promptly made a Little League level baserunning error. He took off for second on a line drive by Melky Cabrera which was hit right at the shortstop and was **easily** doubled off of first base. Any runner worth his salt knows you freeze or take a step back to the bag on a line drive through the infield. Since the next two batters reached base as well, this was very costly.
Sunday, February 17, 2013
|Kansas in their heyday|
Wednesday, February 13, 2013
|Inukshuk patrolling familiar ground|
Monday, February 11, 2013
Well, you got your pope pennants, buttons, your pope clothes,
You got your pope binoculars to see him up close
And I cried when I saw that man in white;
I cried, much to my surrounders' delight.
I cried, 'cause I couldn’t breathe anymore; I cried
'cause people were stepping on my feet.
Hey, hey Mr. Holiness way over there,
Maybe we love you, but we're sadly lacking air.
Then he scooted away in that great Popemobile
I was feeling so trampled, I didn’t know what else to feel — Meryn Cadell, The Pope
Sunday, February 10, 2013
Walk out to winter, swear I'll be there.
Chance is buried just below the blinding snow. — Aztec Camera
|Late in the storm on Friday|
Saturday, February 9, 2013
|♪Oh, what a beautiful moooooor-niiiiin'...♫|
Friday, February 8, 2013
|Om nom nom—brownie kebob!|
Thursday, February 7, 2013
|Spectacled owl pair at the Zoo (a bit fuzzy due to the low light)|
Wednesday, February 6, 2013
|Norm Kelly, living in denial|
credit: Steve Russell/Toronto Star
Monday, February 4, 2013
"Find a penny, pick it up, and all the day you'll have good luck."
|Sad penny face|
links to: forgetthebox.net
|Before the lights went out|
Saturday, February 2, 2013
|How could he not see his shadow??|
Thursday, January 31, 2013
If you're still with me, thanks for hanging in there! On Tuesday I posted my presentation on the black-tailed prairie dog. Yesterday we looked at the giant Pacific octopus. In today's concluding segment, the animal at hand is the spectacled owl.
|Juvenile spectacled owl in flight|
These are spectacled owls, mainly found in Central and South America, most often in rainforests. They have very broad wings and soft plumage which enables them to fly virtually soundlessly through the air. Their flight feathers have comb-like “fingers” which help to deaden the sound of their flight. This is very important to the owl in two ways: the first way is so that their prey will not hear them coming. Can anyone think of a second reason? It’s so the owl can hear their prey moving about even while they are flying so they can pinpoint its exact location.
Wednesday, January 30, 2013
Yesterday I posted about the black-tailed prairie dog, the first of three animals I have been assigned for a "mock tour" this coming Friday. The second animal, the giant Pacific octopus, is the subject of today's piece. Hope you like it!
|Giant Pacific octopus|
Has anyone ever heard of Harry Houdini? Why was he famous? Harry Houdini was a man who lived about 100 years ago and he was an “Escape Artist”. People used to pay to see him get out of very tight spots seemingly like magic. But if Harry Houdini had been an octopus, it might not have seemed so magical!
This is a giant Pacific octopus. It is an invertebrate; does everyone know what that means? Because it has no bony skeleton or backbone it can squeeze its body through unbelievably small holes; here is something to look at we call an “Octopus Escape Route”—please pass it around. The octopus in this tank can fit through that hole in the plastic if it really needed to! Underneath the octopus where all 8 arms meet you will find its mouth. Inside that mouth is the octopus’ beak, shaped a bit like a parrot’s beak, which is made of keratin—the same substance your fingernails are made out of. That is the hardest part of the octopus’ whole body, so it can squeeze through any opening larger than its beak. Now, I mentioned the octopus’ arms: that’s what they are called, not legs or tentacles. Each arm has about 280 suckers in two rows and these contain chemical receptors which the octopus uses for touch and taste.
Tuesday, January 29, 2013
|Black-tailed prairie dog family|
Monday, January 28, 2013
|The proud papa and the gorgeous child|
Sunday, January 27, 2013
|CEO John Tracogna on Undercover Boss|
Friday, January 25, 2013
Thursday, January 24, 2013
In the months leading up to the 2012 London Olympics, Procter & Gamble ran this ad:
"The hardest job in the world," it proclaimed of being a Mom. Not a parent, but just a Mom. I hated this ad (for one thing, even in the '60s and '70s it was my own Dad's job to get me up and off to hockey for the early morning weekend practices) and I posted my feelings about it at that time on Facebook. I cannot for the life of me find that post right now, despite my fairly exhaustive checking of my Timeline, but I don't recall receiving too much condemnation for my stance. After all, I wasn't complaining about Moms getting "their due"; rather, I was complaining about Dads not getting theirs. It's particularly disappointing to me because, as I wrote on this blog last June and again earlier this month, when I was a "stay-at-home Dad" in the early years of my kids' lives I appeared to be a trailblazer, but it seemed real progress was being made in the recognition and encouragement of Dads everywhere to take a more active role in the raising of their own children. I don't know what happened to those heady days, but the advancement stalled and backslid and these days I find we are really no further ahead than the early '90s when I was home with my kids.
Wednesday, January 23, 2013
|Ray Metcalf, "Plant Guy"|
Saturday, January 19, 2013
|Stretch #1 - Evan Penny |
(owned by the AGO)
Friday, January 18, 2013
|Sarah and the ofrenda|
Thursday, January 17, 2013
|The entrance wall, appropriately painted in azul|
Wednesday, January 16, 2013
|The three guns used by the Newtown shooter|
But now there is a growing movement that insists that even the number of dead that day is not accurate. They are called the "Sandy Hook Truthers." And they absolutely disgust and sicken me, a born skeptic.
Tuesday, January 15, 2013
Monday, January 14, 2013
|Even Chandler eventually is shamed into liking this dog|
|A rare sight: leashed dogs leaving off-leash area|
|Taylor Creek park in an all-too-typical scene|
|Toronto's Financial District|
|Denzil Minnan-Wong, rocket scientist|
|The new (and ugly) dog run at Stan Wadlow|
|Karen Stintz at another failed dog run venture|
It's merely one more sign that the city of Toronto has gone to the dogs.
Saturday, January 12, 2013
|Heading down to Taylor Creek|
Friday, January 11, 2013
Thursday, January 10, 2013
|White-handed gibbon in a rare spot: on the ground|
Wednesday, January 9, 2013
Tuesday, January 8, 2013
|Hooray for my Full-Time Dad!|
Monday, January 7, 2013
|Max at full speed|
For the first little while, the kids randomly blew off steam kicking a couple of soccer balls around, then the "coach" organized a game of "Octopus" (a variation of Freeze Tag) with Max as "It". That's what he's playing in the picture above, where he looks more like an airplane than a scary sea monster. Then they played a game of "crazy soccer", which consisted of two teams but also two balls, to really keep the action going:
Sunday, January 6, 2013
"And so you're back from outer space,
I just walked in to find you here with that sad look upon your face;
I should have changed that stupid lock, I should have made you leave your key,
If I had known for just one second you'd be back to bother me..."
- Gloria Gaynor, I Will Survive
|Says it all|
This is a difficult letter for me to write. Well, it should be a difficult letter for me to write but it really isn't, so it must be the right thing to do. I've decided our relationship has run its course and I am writing to tell you I'm breaking up with you. No, there's nobody else, not specifically. I just don't love you any more and that's the bottom line.
We've been together a very long time and I always thought our relationship would last forever, but things change, you know? People change and they want different things sometimes. It's nobody's fault, really.
Saturday, January 5, 2013
|The birthday girl|
Last October—on the twelfth, to be precise—my beautiful partner, Sarah, had a milestone birthday. Because the depression I have spoken of a couple of times was already taking hold I only managed four blog posts for that entire month, and one of those was about that depression. As a result, two big events during that month—Sarah's birthday itself and the surprise party a bit later on—went virtually unreported, restricted mainly to Facebook postings. That was horribly unfair to Sarah, so today I will relate the tale of the party, the incredible cake and the amazing people who helped put it all together. Very soon I will give Sarah the birthday post she very much deserves; when I do so I will back-date it to October 12, 2012, not because I want to try to cover my tracks but simply because that is where it belongs.