Paddle-to-the-Sea ...

When I was young I was astonished to learn that the ocean did not drain into the rivers and lakes of the world,  but in fact the rivers and lakes flowed to the sea !  It seemed backwards to me.  The oceans are big.  It stands to reason that the bigger thing drains somewhere.  How could those small streams and rivers drain into the oceans of the world without emptying themselves ?

The reality was revealed to me by the Caldicott Medal Winning children's book "Paddle-to-the-Sea".     It is the story of a young indian boy who carves a canoe with a paddle person sitting in it.  On the bottom he put a carved note:

"Please put me back in the water. I am Paddle-to-the-Sea."   

 Paddle begins his journey on a snowy hillside north of Lake Superior.  With the spring melt he is carried to the world's largest lake and through many, many adventures, travels through each of the Great Lakes, up the mighty St. Lawrence and eventually to the sea. 

This wonderful book, explains not only how the melting snow fills the streams, then rivers, then lakes travelling on to the sea, but it is also an entertaining description of the five Great Lakes (Superior, Huron, Michigan, Erie and Ontario) and their importance to the people who live on their shores.

I thought of this childhood book as I stood in my "wellies*" near a soggy cliff at Hartlen Point and watched as the sodden earth spilled water onto a path, filled the path and poured over the cliff edge to the surging ocean.

 

It makes me wonder, which is more amazing, the mighty ocean, or the tiny streams that fill it ? 

* "Wellies" = Wellington boots. i.e. rubber boots

The full story of Paddle-to-the-Sea and the 1966 NFB film can be found here: 
http://nighttrainfilms.net/NTFWEB/NTFPages/PaddleToTheSea/index.htm

The Christmas Tree ...

Shubie park is a popular spot for dog walkers with its wide paths that meander along the shore of a lake and through the woods. 

Families walk together in groups. Parents push toddlers in strollers while a dog jogs alongside. Elderly folk walk slowly with pudgy, greying dogs lagging behind. Young couples urge on timid, overwhemed pups.

But I bet most of them stop to admire the decorations that have recently appeared on a tree near the
lake-side path.

The ornaments are a mixture of store bought and home made. 

   

There are decorations with photos and dated messages that appear to have been added each year since 2007.

What a lovely way of remembering a dearly missed Grand Parent.

I hope that some of those who stop to admire the tree, and read its messages feel prompted to treasure just a little bit more, the loved ones who are still with them.

And the Grinch, with his Grinch-feet ice cold in the snow, stood puzzling and puzzling, how could it be so? It came without ribbons. It came without tags. It came without packages, boxes or bags. And he puzzled and puzzled 'till his puzzler was sore. Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn't before. What if Christmas, he thought, doesn't come from a store?

What if Christmas, perhaps, means a little bit more?

                                                                                                                                    - Dr. Seuss

Winter at PPP ...

This time last year I had not discovered Point Pleasant Park. Since it had snowed last Friday, Saturday I took Wendy, Sooki and Chandler to PPP to rectify the situation. 

It was a sunny brisk morning and many other dog folk were gathered at the early morning doggie meet-up.

I hung out with other doggie folk and we smiled at dog antics. 

Wendy pretty much disappeared.  I found her playing with a child who was throwing a stick for her.  Wendy gets ticked off at me when I don't take a ball or stick, so she goes off to find some human who will do her bidding.  She'd come ack every ten minutes or so to make sure I was still around.  The child didn't have much of an arm and was throwing the stick about five feet each time.  Luckily, Wendy has very low standards.

Sooki would seek out other goofball dogs that liked to run and play hard and didn't mind her "bumping" style of play.  If other dogs were playing a rousing game of "chase, chase", she would happily join in.  "Chase, chase" is an exciting game involving lots of running and chasing.  That's about it.  I have so far not been able to find written rules for this amazing game but the dogs all seem to instinctively know how it's played. 

Chandler stuck pretty close to me, which is a bit unusual for him.  You can see him in the second picture (above) running with a German Shepard.

I would guess that there were 30-40 dogs of varying sizes, from Yorkies to Great Danes.  It's a wonderful experience to be among so many dogs just enjoying each other's company without a hint of conflict.

Just before 10 o'clock the dogs and their companions dispersed as if on command. 

And by the stroke of 10 they were all gone -- leaving not a trace behind.

and getting Curvier all the time ...

Last Saturday I went to a potluck at my local Curves, at Fisherman's Cove.

Potlucks I've been to in the past have had bean dishes, scalloped potatoes, meatballs, salads -- main course stuff.   Besides the vegetarian chilli that I took, there were two bowls of meatballs, a veggie tray and a pasta salad. 

And that was it for the main course.

Everything else was deserts !

Most of the people who go to Curves aren't just there to get fit.  They're trying to lose weight. 

What part of that lofty goal says, "Let's take loads of fattening sweets to the potluck" ?

Just wondrin' ...

Surf's up !

Growing up in Toronto, traffic noise was a constant presence. The din of the Bayview Extension and the Don Valley Parkway carrying thousands of cars, roared like the sound of a distant giant waterfall. Morning or night, the roar was always there.

I noticed this morning a similar sound when I stepped out my front door. There was a split second thought of "traffic?" which my brain answered with "no - waves". I could hear the distant roar of waves.

Lately we've had some pretty windy weather. Yesterday we had wind gusts of up to 100 kph ! Those winds combined with a high tide produce a "storm surge". Water levels that are higher than normal.

This is what the waters around the Cove usually look like.

But today was unusual.

Very, very unusual.



Today were surfers at Fisherman's Cove ! 

People who have lived in the Passage all their lives have never seen waves like this in this location.  Word spread about the waves and crowds gathered.  People parked along the shore road to watch the waves.  Surfers stood by open car doors, pulling on wet suits and phoning their friends to come join them.

Click on the above photo and see how many surfers you can find.  Check the background carefully.

The pictures aren't that great as we were looking directly into the sun.   However, I forgive the sun for ruining my shots, as it was delightfully warm.  Amazingly warm for mid-Decemer.   

My nearby friend, Amy-Lynn also marvelled at today's waves.  Her post for today called "Wicked Waves" can be seen on her Blog here:  http://flandrumhill.wordpress.com/

Thanks to high tides, low tides, waves, surges, wind and rain, the ocean views are different every day here in "The Passage".  

Come visit.  Check it out for yourself.

"22 minutes" ... er ... I mean, "44 Minutes"

Last night we went to the season's final taping of "This Hour has 22 Minutes",  for next Tuesday's one hour Christmas special -- hence 44 rather than 22 minutes.

The tapings are free.  You just call and leave a message.  And then cross your fingers and wait for them to call you back.  When I spoke to the person at CBC I learned she had over 700 voice mail messages, so I consider myself very lucky to have seen three shows this season.

The joy of attending a taping is seeing the performers spontaneous humour and  how they interact with each other.  The live taping is interspersed with pre-recorded segments. While we watched those, the cast watched with us or talked quietly and comfortably with each other.

Left to right (below) they are: Geri Hall, Mark Critch, Cathy Jones and Gavin Crawford.

    

I noticed that Cathy Jones occassionally wiped her nose and her eyes were tearing up.  At one point (between takes) she quietly left the set, followed shortly by Gavin.  I thought she had a bad cold and was just having a tough go of it.  Turns out it was Gavin's last day with the show.

There were monitors everywhere.   In the scene depicted below, Gavin was on one side of the set in front of a green screen and Geri was on the opposite side of the set, facing the opposite direction and interviewing Gavin via a huge monitor where he appeared to be in a large opera house.

I was very surprised when in saying their final good byes at the end of the show, they said they'd see us in the fall.  Fall ?  What happened to spring ? 

Apparently the show's contract has been shortened. 

(insert your own biting, snippy comment about Conservative government here)

Hey, wait.

If Gavin is going, that means they need a new cast member.

I think I know just the right person for the job ...

Missing someone I never met ...

Woke up this morning to the sound of John Lennon singing.

The CBC Martime Morning show was marking the 30th anniversary* of John Lennon's death. 

The songs were wonderful to hear and made me want to haul out a Beatles record to listen to more of John, Paul, George and Ringo who had been so much a part of my life. 

I was 14 in 1964.  Talk about lucky !   I recall seeing them for the first time over the course of three consecutive weeks on "The Ed Sullivan Show".  I screamed myself senseless when I saw them  at Maple Leaf Gardens.   I watched "Hard Day's Night" 12 times !   Each successive record album would be an adventure as their style  and message changed and they brought us along for the the ride. 

And what a ride it was !

The rebellious and cheeky John, challenged our views and made us think. 

Imagine there's no heaven

It's easy if you try

No hell below us

Above us only sky

Imagine all the people

Living for today...

Imagine there's no countries

It isn't hard to do

Nothing to kill or die for

And no religion too

Imagine all the people

Living life in peace...

You may say I'm a dreamer

But I'm not the only one

I hope someday you'll join us

And the world will be as one

Imagine no possessions

I wonder if you can

No need for greed or hunger

A brotherhood of man

Imagine all the people

Sharing all the world...

You may say I'm a dreamer

But I'm not the only one

I hope someday you'll join us

And the world will live as one

 

Thanks John. 

I'm sorry. 

And I miss you.

Peace.

*  The actual date of John's death is December 8. 



The secret at the end of the street.

I know a secret. I know a secret.

I accidentally found something stuck in the trunk of a tree at the end of my street.

It was a carefully camouflaged, waterproof box.  

Can you guess what it was that I had stumbled across ?

It was a  "geocache".

Geocaches are part of a world-wide game of hide and seek.

There are web sites dedicated to listing hidden geocache locations.  You enter your postal code on the site and it will give you a listing of all geocaches within a 50 km radius of your home.  The location is given as latitude and longitude coordinates.  Your job is to find the hidden geocaches using a GPS device.

Sometimes when people find the box they leave a note in the enclosed log recording their find.  They may also take an item from the box, but if they do they must leave another item.  Then the box is returned to its original hiding spot for another person to find.

The final part of this game of hide and seek it to go onto a website and record the find.

There are geocaches hidden EVERYWHERE ! 

I'm keeping an eye out on Kijiji for a cheap, used GPS. 

I  want to get in on the game.


If you are interested in learning more about geocaching  visit    http://www.geocaching.com/

You're not going to believe this ...

No.   It's not another porcupine encounter story.

But ... it is another "ouch" story.

Today I took Wendy and Trey to the parkette at the end of the street.  They just love going there to chase the ball.  I have one of those curved ball throwy thingys.  I hurl the ball.  Trey runs like heck.  Wendy lopes behind.  They bring it back.  I throw it again.  It's a pretty simple system.  Throw, fetch, wag, bark, throw, fetch.  Pant.  Pant.  Fun.  Fun.

Until .. the time I threw the ball high.

Both dogs ran for it and like two outfielders in a baseball game . "I've got it !" Wendy called.  "I'VE GOT IT!" Trey called back.  They both leaped high.  There was a nasty smacking sound and they both tumbled back to earth.  They'd hit each other head on.  I checked Wendy first as she was opening and closing her mouth like someone in the movies who's just been socked in the jaw.  All her teeth were present and accounted for.  She was OK.

Trey meanwhile had the ball and was romping around happily. 

"Okay" I thought, "that was lucky.  They're both fine".

I threw the ball again and when Trey brought it back I saw his tongue had some blood on it.  "Aaahhhh", I thought to myself , "he's bitten his tongue badly".  But that was about it. 

We kept playing.  He kept bringing back the bloody ball.

After playing for another half hour, I  took them home.

In the kitchen I checked his mouth again.  It wasn't his tongue bleeding.  He seemed to have bitten his lip. But boy, it sure kept bleeding.

I called Kait to come look.

The more we looked the more alarmed we became.  His lip wasn't bitten.  It was torn.  And something looked very wrong with his gums.

We called the vet to say we thought we had a pretty urgent problem. 

"Bring him in right away" they responded.

Kait drove him.

Anesthesia.  Artery tear.  Bone exposed.  Gum repair.  Stitches.  Lip repair.  Many stitcthes.  Tooth pulled.

Three hours and $360 later, Kait brought him back home again.  Poor dear Trey was tired, very sore and cranky toward the other pets.   He lay on my bed with his head on his paws.  If a dog or cat approached he curled his lips back and rumbled a deep meaningful growl.  They all gave him the space he needed.  I gently stroked his head.

It's now the next day.  He's feeling more like his old self and searching high and low for toys, balls, chew toys, anything to bite, chew or carry in his mouth.

The vet has ordered that he not play with any toys for two weeks !

Sigh.  It's going to be a long two weeks.