i should post some pictures

Enkidu thinks he's sexy:


My big red exercise ball:


Sunshine and Shadows:

YAY!

It passed! It passed!

Now the legislation just needs to survive the senate and be granted royal assent to be made law....

and now they are voting....

Parliamentary proceedings are very tedious! No wonder no one watches CPAC...

will Canada say "I do"?

I'm watching the same-sex debate on CPAC.ca to find out if the same-sex civil marriage bill, C-38, will be passed tonight.

Wikipedia has an excellent article summing up the history of gay rights in Canada here.

My 10 reasons for legalizing civil, same-sex marriage:

1. It will better the economy (weddings are expensive).
2. A better economy = higher GDP.
3. Higer GDP = stronger Loonie.
4. Increase in international tourists.
5. It will piss off the United States.
6. It will piss off the Baptists in Woodstock.
7. I am a firm believer in equal rights.
8. I have friends, neighbours and coworkers who are gay -- I want them to be happy.
9. Ed Broadbent supports same-sex marriage.
10. Stockwell Day is an idiot.

Keep your fingers crossed!

sure is hot

Yup.

insectivores

Summertime means open windows and lazing around on hot, humid days. It also means bugs. Good bugs (like ladybugs) and annoying bugs (like houseflies) and horrible nasty bugs (like mosquitos) all come inside for a visit.

However, I have four bug catchers in the house, which also means there's always a good source of entertainment.

Moxie was tracking a bug last night across the dining room carpet. When her pug-nose is in hot pursuit, it means pretty much her entire face is squashed against the floor. Her ears were perked, her tail wagging. The bug looked to be running in large circles, the way Moxie was sniffing around. At one point, she lost track of the bug, and that's when Tobique swooped in.

"Whatchya doing?" He came over to ask Moxie, when he spotted her little prey. He dove in with his huge hound nose. He sniffed it, and managed to suck it up his nose. He jumped back in surprise, then sneezed. The bug came shooting out. He pounced on the bug again, and spent a little more time trying to understand it. He gently scooped it up in his mouth. He chewed it thoughtfully, as if considering its flavour. And then he swallowed. Moxie was still searching for her lost target in the other corner of the room.

Several years ago, we brought home a grasshopper for the cats. It was late August, and it was one of those large, fat grasshoppers that have pointy sharp elbows. I managed to catch it in the park -- it was capable of doing very large, high jumps, and it took me a while. "The cats are going to love this," I explained to Nik. I had visions of the grasshopper hopping all about our then-apartment, the cats in hot persuit.

"Hey kitties!" I called out when we got home. Nik and I were looking forward to watching the hours of grasshopper-chasing fun. "Look at this new toy!"

The cats (there were three at the time -- dear Manik was about then) sat about me in a semi-circle, whiskers twitching. They knew something exciting was about to happen. I released the grasshopper onto the floor. I hoped it wouldn't hop behind the fridge.

Cake considered the bug for one second, and spent the next second jumping on it. Then he consumed it.

Not a neat consumption, but a gobble-fest of gluttons inhaling food consumption. Within five seconds of releasing the grasshopper, the grasshopper was gone.

"Uh, not quite," pointed out Nik. On the floor was a grasshopper leg. He pointed it out to Cake, and Cake graciously ate the leftovers.

Everyone, except Cake, felt a little let down.

fields of colour

The dogs and I have spent a lot of time in the wild fields of Lebreton Flats, before they are bulldozed and dug and purified and covered in concrete. Before all the moths and the butterflies and beetles and bugs are maimed and killed. Before all the song birds need to abandon their young in nests and fly far, far away, to somewhere safe.

I am trying to learn the names of these wild flowers before they are gone. Some of them have funny names.

Bladder Campion
Hoary Alyssum
Rough-Fruited Cinquefoil
Intermediate Dogbane
Cow Vetch

Of course, there are fragrant red and white clovers (and possibly some other types of clovers, too) which make the field smell like perfume from the gods.

Tonight's flower:



Birdfoot Trefoil

I saw my first milkweed beetles today. They were funny, elongated, red critters with black polkadots. One of only two bugs that eat milkweed -- the other is the Monarch Butterfly.

Nikola Tesla

Interesting mad scientist, claiming to have created a death ray.

Read all about him:

Rotten.com's Tesla Bio

Rotten.com's Tunguska Entry

Wikipedia.org's Tesla Bio

Wikipedia.org's Saner Tunguska Event Entry (but less fun)

Publicity photo of Nikola Tesla in his laboratory in Colorado Springs circa 1900.

*phew!*

Well, despite the people who passive-aggressively attacked me at tonight's general membership meeting, I'm relatively happy. The end is near: no more late night phone calls; no more unexpected door-bell ringings during awkward moments; no more being solely responsible for everyone's neighbourly woes!

What a day! My day shouldn't have been like this -- if people would act like the mature, responsible adults I always STUPIDLY assume them to be, then I wouldn't have:

1. needed to receive an official apology for last week's emotionally ravaging incident;
2. needed to play "supervisor" and had someone sent home who has a very contagious disease;
3. needed to pretend to not be offended while people aired their gripes about me in a public forum, instead of first letting me know about their solveable gripes in person.

Anyway.

There was a splendid 98% full moon earlier tonight, hovering shyly in the purplish Belt of Venus. Why does this summer solstice moon appear larger? Visit the moon illusion page for an explanation from NASA. This moon made my day very beautiful.

creepy elfin guy

During our wanderings, we explored the buildings of Parliament Hill. There are a lot of beautiful carvings unexpectedly placed on the building -- a stoic fur trader here, a bear and cougar there -- but this one I can't explain.

It looks like some creepy elfin guy wearing a nightcap, with a key and lantern in hand. What's the grid behind him meant to represent? Why is he sitting cross-legged in a little enclosure? Why does he have pointy shoes? Here is a quest!

Ottawa RibFest 2005

Nik and I have the bad habit of wandering into festivals, appearances and other big happenings, without the fore-knowledge that these things are taking place. Yesterday we accidentally came across the Ottawa Rib Festival -- cooks from as far away as Alabama, Texas and Florida were there, with buckets full of dead pigs and chickens, for a rib cookoff. Here are some of our pictures.


Eat Me!


Mmmm... American ribs!


The big bad Wolf ate some Piggies!


Tough Boar Ribs!


Trophy for Best Coleslaw!

better picture

I like this picture of my blue hair better.

forgiveness

Forgiveness is such a funny thing - it's a very strong emotional release. Pent up negative energies consume thoughts and actions, and can leave a person feeling tense, miserable and vengeful.

But when someone comes asking for forgiveness, it's almost a release to give it. I forgave someone today, and it left me feeling calm and content.

When my grandfather was dying, even though he didn't ask for forgiveness, I knew I had to find it in myself to forgive him. For all the little things that built up a wall between us -- his alcoholism, his treatment of my mother, and never spelling my name correctly. While I don't think it's possible to ever forget these things, they don't make me angry anymore. They are just things. I was able to forgive him for his actions, accept him as a human being, and then I let him know. I'll never forget his smile on that day. He had been too embarassed to ask for it. Now I am able to gloat over the jewels of our relationship, without bitterness.

So today I surprised myself, and gave into the apology. Part of me wanted to dance around the transgressor, and make her squirm in emotional hell-fires. But I forgave. I won't forget -- however, my soul is no longer being tortured with resentment and anger. It's a beautiful feeling. All's right with the world again.

wake up my sleepy friend

http://www2.b3ta.com/sleepy-kittens/

Sometimes, the blokes at B3ta.com get it right.

sound check, check, check

things i love

Fog on the Fundy





Tamarack Trees





the colour Ultramarine Blue

smoking is good for you!

From the Globe and Mail:

In China, cigarettes are a kind of miracle drug
By GEOFFREY YORK
Saturday, June 11, 2005 Updated at 3:27 AM EDT
From Saturday's Globe and Mail

Guiyang, China — Here's some exciting medical news from the Chinese government: Smoking is great for your health.

Cigarettes, according to China's tobacco authorities, are an excellent way to prevent ulcers.

They also reduce the risk of Parkinson's disease, relieve schizophrenia, boost your brain cells, speed up your thinking, improve your reactions and increase your working efficiency.

And all those warnings about lung cancer? Nonsense.

You're more likely to get cancer from cooking smoke than from your cigarette habit.

Welcome to the bizarre parallel universe of China's state-owned tobacco monopoly, the world's most successful cigarette-marketing agency.

With annual sales of 1.8 trillion cigarettes, the Chinese monopoly is responsible for almost one-third of all cigarettes smoked on the planet today.

If you believe the official website of the tobacco monopoly, cigarettes are a kind of miracle drug: solving your health problems, helping your lifestyle, strengthening the equality of women, and even eliminating loneliness and depression.

“Smoking removes your troubles and worries,” says a 37-year-old female magazine editor, quoted approvingly on the website. “Holding a cigarette is like having a walking stick in your hand, giving you support.

“Quitting smoking would bring you misery, shortening your life.”

Such statements are widely believed in China.

Two-thirds of Chinese men are smokers, and surveys show that as many as 90 per cent believe their habit has little effect on their health, or is good for them.

Even in China's medical community, 60 per cent of male doctors are smokers. Few are aware of the studies forecasting that cigarettes will soon be responsible for one-third of all premature deaths among Chinese men.

Little wonder that Western tobacco companies are hungrily circling the Chinese market, lobbying eagerly for entry into this lucrative market of 360 million smokers, the biggest market in the world.

So far, 99 per cent of the market is controlled by the Chinese monopoly, but Western tobacco companies are convinced they will soon crack it, especially now that China is a member of the World Trade Organization and is obliged to reduce its tariffs on foreign cigarettes.

For the anti-smoking movement, China is the ultimate challenge. Nonetheless, this week, a group of Canadian experts arrived in southwestern China in a bid to convince Chinese smokers that cigarettes might not be quite as beneficial as they believe.

They distributed anti-smoking posters, visited cancer patients, showed the graphic warnings on Canadian cigarette packs, and lectured on how the anti-smoking campaign has reduced Canada's lung-cancer rate. But they admitted that they face an uphill struggle in a country where the tobacco industry provides 60 million jobs and 10 per cent of national tax revenue.

“The magnitude of the problem is overwhelming,” said Jean Couture, a Quebec surgeon who has been travelling to China since 1990 to work on cancer-education programs.

“In China today, the economy comes first and everything else is secondary, including health care,” Dr. Couture said. “You wonder if anyone in the government is conscious of how great the smoking problem is. There's no public education program. The Chinese anti-smoking association is very weak and has almost no money. Within 20 years, China could have the majority of all smoking deaths in the world.”

Chinese doctors have called Dr. Couture a “second Norman Bethune” — a reference to the Canadian surgeon who became a Chinese hero after dying while giving care to Chinese Communist soldiers in 1939. The Quebec doctor, who has helped create an 80-bed cancer unit at a hospital in northeastern China, is now leading an anti-smoking campaign in four Chinese provinces.

When the Canadians arrived this week in Guizhou province in southwestern China, they were worried about the power of the local tobacco industry. The province is filled with tobacco farms and cigarette factories. As they distributed posters at a hospital in one of Guizhou's biggest cities yesterday, the Canadians saw a number of people smoking in the hospital. A hospital shop was openly selling cigarettes.

“The tobacco industry is so huge and the anti-tobacco movement is so weak,” said Mark Rowswell, a Canadian television personality and Chinese celebrity (under the name Da Shan), who helps promote the anti-smoking campaign. “What we're doing is just a drop in the ocean.”

While smoking rates have fallen sharply in Canada in the past two decades, the rate in China is still rising.

“Ten years ago, when we first came to China, it was unheard of for young women to smoke,” said Nicole Magnan, executive director of the Quebec division of the Canadian Cancer Society, who was in the Canadian delegation this week. “Now there are more and more of them.”

While China has proclaimed that the 2008 Beijing Olympics will be a smoke-free Olympics, it has done little to discourage smoking. The number of Chinese smokers is growing by three million a year, despite an estimated 1.3 million tobacco-related deaths annually.

Chinese cigarettes are cheap — as little as 30 cents a pack — and the health warnings are hidden in small print on the sides of the packages. Though cigarette advertising is technically illegal, tobacco companies are allowed to promote their corporate names. When sprinter Liu Xiang won a gold medal for China at the Athens Olympics last summer, he promptly went out and filmed a television commercial for China's biggest cigarette company.

Children can easily buy cigarettes at Chinese shops, despite an official ban on sales to those under the age of 18. “Shop owners never refuse to sell us cigarettes,” said one 16-year-old boy who was smoking as he played pool near a Guizhou school this week.

“They only care about money.”

Che Chuangao, a construction worker, started smoking when he was 20. “More than 90 per cent of my friends smoked, so I couldn't be different,” he said. “And it's helpful for my work. Offering a cigarette is a social greeting, whenever you meet a friend or a stranger. I know that smoking isn't good. Once I stopped smoking for a month or two. But my friends persuaded me to smoke again.”

While their task is daunting, the Canadians are scoring some small successes. After listening to a speech by the Canadians this week, 27-year-old medical student Li Dongbo said he was inspired to work on anti-smoking projects.

The student's uncle, who had smoked for 30 years, died of lung cancer in February. To spare his feelings, his family had never told him the truth about his illness.

“I was shocked,” Mr. Li said. “The government should be doing more. We need promotion campaigns to tell people about it.”

book reading

I went to a book reading tonight by Chris Binkowski. I made the mistake of sitting. The first few minutes were fine -- but then the back pain became sciatica, and went up to 9 out of 10. I squirmed. I pinched the skin on my arms. I tried to find a comfortable position: but the more I moved, the worse it became. I couldn't concentrate on the author's silent, breathy words. The institutional sound of the respirator became louder in my head, driving up my anxiety. The room was packed, and I didn't want to interrupt by standing and weaving my way to the back of the crowds. Politeness overcomes pain.

After dull, mumbled questions, finally everyone clapped and we could stand. I went over to introduce myself to Chris. "You know me from Freenet," I said, shyly. "We've corresponded a lot." I could see the light of recognition flicker in his eyes. He gestured to the copy of his book I had in my hands -- I had picked up a copy of the special collector's issue (one of 25) that was printed in colour. He mumbled something. "What's that?" I asked, leaning closer. "Did you pay for that already?" he asked. I was taken aback.

"Uh no, not yet. But I am going to pay for it before I leave," I said in reply. After a few more words, I said: "See you later!"

Nik and I pushed our way through the crowd. The regular edition is $5; the special, all colour edition is $26.75. We then walked home in the twilight. I limped all the way, eager to do some stretches and exercises in the privacy of home.

hot hot hot

(The air conditioner shelf/support I designed, built and installed myself on Sunday.)

With temperatures in the high 30s (with the humidex), it's been hot and sticky for the past few days. Sunburns, frizzy hair, and an undertone of grumpiness have haunted us. I shouldn't complain -- I nearly froze to death last winter. The only saving graces have been the water sprinkler, cold showers, and home made iced tea (with lots of ice cubes).

Michelle's Iced Tea Recipe

Boil a kettle of water.
Add four green tea bags (President's Choice Organics brand is nice) to a pitcher.
When water is boiling, poor into the pitcher.
Let the tea steep for a bit. (I usually wander away and forget about it for a good 10 to 15 minutes.)
Remove the tea bags from the pitcher. If it isn't too too hot outside, you can put the tea bags in the compost bin.
Fill a glass full of ice cubes.
Slowly pour the hot water into the glass.
Serve with a straw. Yummy.
(Put the pitcher into the fridge, so it can cool for the next glass.)

Hey... now it's raining!

internet telephone

Visit Skype.com to get a neat little program that turns your computer into a telephone. You do need speakers or headset, and a computer-microphone. If your friends are Skype users, then you can talk to them on the Skype-phone for free.

However, if you want to call someone's phone, you need to buy some Skype time. It turns out to be fairly economical: about $15 Canadian for 10 HOURS worth of telephone time.

I now have Skype -- I have a Mac computer which comes with speakers AND an in-built microphone. (Nyah nyah.) If you sign up and want to chat with me, leave me a comment and I'll send you my Skype name.

[For some weird reason, everytime I try to type "microphone" my fingers automatically type "microchip". ]

back pain

Update:

My back pain is pretty bad since the trip to NB -- I'm actually going to physio therapy. I haven't been sleeping well, and I can tell that my own job production has gone downhill. I would just like to be able to sit in a chair for an hour without feeling pain. I can't go to restaurants or pubs or coffeeshops without making a scene by doing 3 repetitions of 10 back stretches to alliviate some of the pain. I can't feel creative with this going on. FYI.

i should have studied chemistry in high school

Then this would have been exciting.



(Click to see it big.)

Woodstock Warriors - RAH RAH RAH!

from: http://nb.cbc.ca/regional/servlet/View?filename=nb-warriors20050606

FREDERICTON – A high school principal in Woodstock says the school's sports teams will no longer be called the Warriors because the name is disrespectful to people of the First Nations.

John MacKay said the Warrior name and the team mascot, complete with a feathered headdress, were an inappropriate use of native cultural symbols.

"The expression of feathers, what do they mean in the native culture? Those are sacred, symbolic … they have meaning. They have a place in their culture and we would not be representing their culture properly by using it as a symbol in the way we do," MacKay said Monday.

The sports teams at Woodstock High have been called the Warriors for about 30 years. At big games, a student would dress up as the team mascot, wearing a Hollywood version of native warrior apparel.

MacKay said people never gave much thought to the fact that the name and the mascot were demeaning to the First Nations, including the Woodstock First Nation, where some of his students live.

He said the decision to change the name was made after some long discussions with First Nations people, some of whom had complained about the Warriors name in the past.

The principal said the students are putting forward suggestions for a new team name – one that's agreeable to everyone.

"Hopefully by the time we finish this school year we'll have that name and symbol ready to go and begin the process of making adjustments."

MacKay said one of the names under consideration was the Wildcats.

I suggest the Woodstock Jesus Squad, but Sarah thinks it's a little too over the top -- she suggests the Woodstock Worshippers. (The cool kids at Woodstock High are on the sports teams AND are Baptist religious freaks, just in case you haven't figured that out.)

My goodness, I have a lot of issues with my hometown.

hot day

Today is another hot day -- so I plugged in the "mister" and enjoyed the water and the sunshine.



After returning from the dog park, Nik exclaimed: "I have an inch worm on me!" He tried to feed it to Cake -- he would have nothing to do with it. Then the dogs got interested. I was walking by, so I thought I'd take a peek at it.

It was a tent caterpillar. So I completely freaked.

"GET IT OUTSIDE!" I squealed like a girly-girl. "TAKE IT OUT AND KILL IT!"

New Brunswick was infested with these caterpillars in 1980 and 1981. They were everywhere. Half the trees had no leaves. They marched en masse across roads, across lawns. They dropped from the trees unexpectedly. Argh, they were everywhere and they were GROSS. I suspect I'm a bit traumatized.

Nik, the dear he is, took the thing outside and squished it. "Are its guts yellow?" I called from the kitchen. "Yeah," he said. I shivered. I remember all too well how yellow their guts are.

missing

While in NB, my mother showed me this link:

Brantford Police: Missing Person

This is my aunt, Mary Hammond.



Posting this, there are lots of things I'd like to say. That I vaguely remember her being so grown-up, but she was only 25 when she disappeared. That I keep thinking about her, in the back of my mind, as I watch TV shows like Cold Case and CSI. That I can see part of myself in her face and her smile. If she died, did she suffer?

I post this to keep a candle flickering for her. I mourn her lost possibilities.

he's MINE!

Muah ha ha!



I've inherited the plastic 1970s Santa Claus! In your face, Sarah!

Now if I could just get Mom to give me the cedar chest....

driving

When I was a kid living with the parents, where ever we went as a family group, Dad almost always drove. It wasn't a sexist thing -- my mother just preferred to read in the car. I am very familiar with the back of my father's head.

(My mother used to be a pretty frightful driver -- while no one ever admits it out loud, my sister's reckless genes came from mitochondrial DNA. Andrew Bird once told her she was the coolest driver he'd ever met, the way she went 130km/h on the twisty 70km/h back roads. I'm very surprised that I'm still alive.)

summertime!

Well, technically it's late spring, but the weather suggests it's summer, and I plan to enjoy it!

I planned to comment on the weather, the heat, and avoiding taking pictures of tulips (like all you other Ottawans!) - but now I'm not (see below). In the meantime, here is a picture of apple blossoms. Mmm, I miss their perfume already.

Instead I am going to comment that Nik is hating me right now. I resisted for as long as I could all evening (I'm hogging the big computer and listening to the music I haven't transferred to the laptop), but I'm on my second Radiohead song. I love Radiohead. I always will. Nik is tired of listening to them.

"Plastic, patented, middle-class, polyethylene!"

My top five Radiohead songs (in no particular order):

- Polyethylene (Parts 1 & 2)
- Killer Cars
- Pop is Dead
- Palo Alto
- Subterranean Homesick Alien

a portrait of friendship

Clearing up the unwanted photos on iPhoto (accursed program), I stumbled on this. Look how cold we are! Look at the snow-flakes! Thank goodness it's now summer and I don't have to wear a dorky hat.