From Nat's Brain

Happy Independence Day!

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Originally uploaded by From Nat's Lens

This is the bunker, a.k.a the U.S. embassy in Ottawa. (Friendly looking place.)

They are having a party. We are not invited. I know you would invite me to your party, because you wouldn't want me to feel left out.

In your honour, I might have to break the diet and have some Apple pie. (I'd go to McDonalds and buy a Ford but there is only so much damage I'm willing to inflict on myself.) I'd drag the fam. out to the drive-in but it closed...

Oh well, I'll celebrate with a run to Springsteen and Pearl Jam.

Wordless Wednesday -- Happy Poutine Day

Happy Canada Day!

 

(The one day a year, I have one too.)

Sirius Vedder

The Boy is on a Harry Potter kick. I would complain about his obsessive tendencies but, as you know, I am prone to bits of idée fixe myself.

Harry Potter has become bedtime reading. In that, we read it to him. (Bloody long chapters too.) At 8 and a half, the child is quite capable of reading to himself (he really enjoyed the Diary of a Wimpy kid series, and he's started one of a long series called Lightning Thief: Percy Jackson and  The  Olympians -- about the gods not the athletes.) But not reading Harry Potter. I think it started during last year's road trip to Newfoundland when we played the audiobooks (for 1,2 and 3) for him in the car. It's not that he can't read it, it's just no how it's been done in the pas and so it shall be...  however, he did see the movies. He has seen the movies a lot.

Which is how during our last bout with the sickness, that he ended up sitting on the couch watching HP and the Prisoner of Azkaban for the 3,586th time¹ .  The Boy wanted to discuss some of the finer points of Harry Potter (I think before I had children I'd envisioned are literary conversation to be more ... well, illuminating):

1. Who is my favourite character is: Professor Snape. (Rickman was made for this role.)  The Boy picked Potter and with the Weasely Twins as a close second.

2. What did I think about hippogriffs? Must admit I haven't given the beasts much though. Personally, I would like an Owl or two to do my bidding though. Although really Draco needs a good time out, he's a bit of a beast isn't he?

3. Favourite scene: any time Snape says "Potter"

4. Favourite spell: I don't have a favourite spell... although I'd like the whole dishwashing/house cleaning set-up Mrs. Weasley had.

5. Don't I think that Eddie Vedder looks a heck of a lot like Sirius Black?

 

Although I did protest. A lot. Upon reflection ... I see that the child might have a point.

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1. I would criticize him for this but I may have seen Pearl Jam's  At the Garden 3, 587 times.

Do you need help crossing the street?

The City of Ottawa thinks we're stupid.

First there was swift kick in the gonad that is the $750 tax increase this year. Now given, we live in an up and coming 'hood, and well, the house is worth more.. bla bla bla... but from this end, it looks strangely like it's costing me $750 for nothing. We're doing ok, but an extra $60+ bucks a month isn't not making my heart sing.

So, earlier this month, they did something. In a room with low oxygen, they looked at all the things they keep track of -- and they came to the stellar conclusion that pedestrian were not safe.

The numbers are as follows. In their words: Between 2004 and 2008 (FOUR YEARS) there were:

• Pedestrian-related fatalities: 32
• Pedestrian-related injuries: 1,487 (181 of those were "life-altering"). 

With a bit of digging, I discovered this:

• Population of Ottawa: 812,000 (per 2006 Census)
• Number of motor vehicle collisions according to the 2008 report: 15,638
• Number of fatalities in 2008 (including pedestrians, cyclists): 30. (10 pedestrians)
• Number of injuries (in total) in 2008: 4,115 (333 pedestrians)

And they came to the only rational conclusion, that pedestrians were the problem and need to be more careful. So they launch Walk as if your dumb enough to pay property tax in Ottawa. Big old bus ads, and TV ads and wowee... zowee... look both ways before you cross the street.

Yes, it's awful awful awful that any gets hurt on the roads. But looking at these numbers, it's not standing out to be that the pedestrians are the issue. No, missy smoking a cigarette, while yelling at here kids and texting her best friends while driving... she's a problem. People driving to quickly, people being rude, inconsiderate and lacking compassion behind the wheel of a car. Obsessed with it all... that's a problem. 

You know what the hell else is a problem? CYCLISTS ON THE SIDEWALK. Now if you're over the age of 12, and you have your bicycle on the sidewalk you are a menace.  (If the road is too scary you should walk your bike.)

But pedestrians... well, they know what they're doing. They are minding their own business they know cyclists and motorists can be a touch mental. They don't need the City to them that...

Wordless Wednesday: School's Out for Summer

 

For blogging out loud...

It's Sunday, I must be blogging.

A bit of housekeeping.

Well, it's official, I'll be reading at: Blog Out Loud Ottawa on July 23 at the Raw Sugar Cafe on Somerset West.  Lynn from Turtlehead is organizing the event, if you're in and about town and would like to come read drop her a line. I am still unsure about this whole thing, however, it's time to get out of my shell and get out and do those things that scare me.  

The much-better-blogger than me XUP is also reading and she's asked her readers to pick their favourite posts. She narrowed it down for them. I've dropped Lynn a few suggestions, but, truth be told. I'm kind of stumped as to what to read. (If I have enough Ova, I'll read this. Not sure though.) I am open to suggestions.

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And since I have your attention! I'm still desperately seeking volunteers to be course marshalls for the Hintonburg Centennial 5K. (No running experience necessary.)  Leave me a comment if you'll give me Sunday afternoon to watch our runners.

Mighty Neighbourly!

Earworm: Corb Lund's Truck Got Stuck

You will remember my going on (as I do, music all the time) about Horse Solider, Horse Soldier. That Corb Lund. Not sure how Truck Got Stuck flew onto The Man's song radar, except that well, it's been stuck on continuous repeat ever since. I must say it is better than the whole Aqua phase he went through. But  I am walking around going "The Chev got stuck, then the ford got stuck..."

Admit it we all know guys like this. In fact, I can see my uncle Gilles telling this story. In fact, it makes me think of him. Damn Gilles can spin a good yarn.

There is also a song that goes something like "Don't leave your hat on the bed son..." which goes to show that my knowledge of folkore is, well, taken entirely from Supernatural and songs about bad luck.

So there it.
Yes. It's bluegrass, country type stuff. I'm sorry. If it makes you feel better, Corb Lund used to be in a punk band. He's gone back to his roots... then his truck got stuck.

Wordless Wednesday -- I don't know either

Little people

The lovely and talented Jewel, after a rather rough c-section, welcomed little Ivy to the world almost two weeks. After The Mysterious Sickness left our household, I decided it was probably safe to go out and meet the little trouble maker.

She's adorable and tiny and all in all a very good baby. (Although I think today's cluster feeding was making Jewel slightly nuts.) I'm always a bit hesitant to hold other people's children, but Ivy is pretty darn cute (in that old man with no teeth kind of way) and I got my snuggle in.

And... well... nothing. At all. I mean I think she's sweet and cute. And I can't wait to see who she turns out to be. But there was no fluttering of the ovaries, no longing to have a baby. None. Just a feeling that I am so incredibly happy for Jewel and that family but at the same, I am relieved that stage of my life is over. She talked about a good night's sleep being six hours. And the mystery, of, man what does the baby want now... and I can honestly say. I just couldn't cope with it.

The Man and I made the decision not to have more kids a few years back. He's had the big Vee. The Boy's delivery is one of the textbook cases on what can go wrong. The Man thought I was going to die, and I reckon a number of other people (including the medical professionals) were more than a little concerned. Combined with a strong dislike for the entire first two years of life thing, he really didn't want to do it again. (Specially not with the risk of having to do it alone.) Me, well, I was ambivalent.

But from time to time, I'd hold a little one and feel a tingle. This time nothing. It's back to where we were before I had kids... babies .. not so much my thing any more.

Margaret Laurence and Death Omens

When we were in Grade 10 or 11, we had to read A Bird in the House by Margaret Laurence. (She's most known for the Stone Angel, which is what the other schools got to read.) I remember two things about this book: (1) that a bird in the house is a death omen* and (2) of all the book I read in high school this is the one I liked the least** and remember the least about. (Wonder if I actually read it or if I gave up, not that I ever EVER would do something like that.) This is also why I will never read the Stone Angel (I am sure it is your favourite book EVER, but I am electing to miss out on its literary perfection.)

Now, when The Boy saw fit to rescue the injured bird a few weeks ago, the first thing that popped into my head after  "birds are cesspool of disease and are going to kill us all" was holy fuck a bird in the house means death. And there was most definitely a bird in my house. Then my grandmother died. Coincidence? More than likely but I am still blaming the bird.

But on Saturday as I was looking up why brown eggs are brown.*** I wondered if it was really a superstition, or just something Margaret "bird lady" Laurence divised to torment future generations of 11th graders. Turns out, it is in fact a real superstion.

Evidently, this whole superstition is why many cultures do not keep birds as pets. Very wise cultures might I add. Birds are scary, icky, and probably out to exterminate the human race. (Yes, I realize this is irrational.)

I also learned a bunch of useless things that are sure to stay with me a long time:

• Being buried in black means you will haunt the family. (Note to my family: you may not have a choice.)
• I am worried about my twitchy eye. It's my left one -- somebody is going to die.
• Dropping an umbrella -- also sudden death.

At this rate I'm taking out the block.

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*Death omens... I love that phrase... death omens DEATH OMENS death omens DEATH OMENS
**Second Least like was Bonheur d'Occasion in which, with a nod to Melville perhaps, Gabrielle Roy sees fit to spend 100 pages describing a snow storm, yet, the main characters gets raped and I totally missed it. I reread it... subtle... 100 pages on snow. That one I know I didn't finish.

***They are from a species of chickens that are brown-ish red. You can tell the colour of the eggs by the feather over their ears. Yes. Chicken's have ears. My child knew this. Steel trap that kid's brain. Micheline also says that if her chickens lay blue-ish-green eggs -- maybe Dr. Seuss wasn't on THOSE drugs. (If you follow me on Facebook, you know all this already.)