Bridges and harbours and ships, oh my !

Halifax is a marvellous city. It's located on a peninsula that dips down into the world's second largest natural harbour.  Two bridges link Halifax with Dartmouth to the east.  Ferries ply the waters bringing commuters to the downtown terminal.

Driving over the southern bridge from Dartmouth,  I glance to the right (north) and there are three old black submarines parked in the water near the shore.  I think they've just been dragged there to die.  Farther up to my right I can see a container ship being loaded in the Halifax Shipyard.  Pier 6 was ground-zero, for the devastating Halifax explosion of December 6, 1917.  During WWI a fully loaded munitions ship "The Mont- Blanc" and an empty provisions ship "The Imo" collided.  The ensuing fire brought many curious school children and others to the dock to watch.  Few knew that the burning ship was fully loaded with explosives as it did not display a warning flag.  The blast was terrifying.  There was great loss of life and many were blinded by flying glass because they'd gone to windows to watch the fire. Perhaps you have seen the "Heritage Moment" commercial about the courageous telegraph operator, Vince Coleman,  who remained at his post to successfully warn an approaching train to stop.  The blast zone was so large that even if he had left his post, he most assuredly would have perished.

To my left lies the naval shipyards with war ships moored and a submarine in dry dock.  Further south are wharfs where double-masted schooners tie up in summer and Theodore the Tugboat lives year-round.  In the summer a two hour tour of the harbour on the "Bluenose II" can be had for a mere $20.

Farther down are docks touring cruise ships moor in succession from May to October spilling tourists onto the boardwalk where they can choose from tours of the Alexander Keith's museum, the Maritime Museum of the Atlantic, the public gardens or the Old Burying Ground which mysteriously contains 12,000 bodies but only has 1,200 markers. Or perhaps they'll just pop into a wharf-side pub for a pint.                                               

This is a very kewl place.  Full of history and new things for me to explore. 

And I didn't even mention the Citadel or the three islands in the harbour with three more forts between them.  

 * Yes.  I do know how to spell "cool".

                                      

Just for Laughs

Last night I went with Kait and her bf to Casino Nova Scotia to the opening night "Gala"of the Halifax 2010 "Just for Laughs" hosted by Shaun Majumder.

It was general seating so we lined up just before 7 as the doors were opening at 7:15.    Once in, we saw the layout was a combination of small tables with chairs near the front and then rows of chairs.  The tables were all reserved for guests of the company that produces the festival but the rest of the place was fair game.  Amazingly enough we got front row centre !  I think some folk shy away from the front row knowing they might get picked on.  That experience was largely reserved for the closer folk at the tables, though Kait was spoken to provocatively by one of the comedians.

Marc Critch warmed up the crowd and explained that the whole affair was being filmed for CBC.  We practiced laughing wildly and clapping as he introduced the show.  We practiced three times.  Cameras were everywhere.  The most impressive was on a huge boom that swung out over the audience and then would zoom in tight on the comedian.  It reminded me of some one-eyed alien monster from a creepy movie.   You sense it's behind you, but you can't turn around.  It's over your shoulder.  It's moving slowly.  DON'T TURN AROUND !   And whatever you do don't look into it's one glowing eye.   We were also told not to stand up as we might be decapitated.  I thought that a pretty stern punishment for having a weak bladder. 

Another camera was a hand-held in the wings behind the comedian looking out toward the audience.

It was a great evening and the nine comedians were all good, though some tickled my funny bone more than others.  I felt a great deal of pressure to laugh more than I naturally might and I valiantly resisted yawning or picking my nose for fear of ruining a shot.  If I wasn't laughing I was certainly ALWAYS smiling.  Smiling very big..  By the end of the evening my cheeks hurt.  I feared I'd permanently look like Jack Nicholson as the Joker.  I was a bit worried that when I woke up this morning this I'd still have that silly laughing-smile pasted on my face.  I don't.   Do I ?

Wendy's turn ...

Out of our pack, errr I mean, our drapery of dogs, two are mine.  Chandler, the overly self-important mini Schnauzer, star of a recent Blog, and Wendy a pretty, easy-going lab/whippit cross.

 As Chandler is a year older than her, Wendy has always accepted his domination with good humour and resignation.  They make a nice couple and are great company on camping trips, never making-strange with strangers and sitting quietly at our campsite watching the world go by.

Wendy isn't really fond of dogs and is only one herself by virtue of the fact she had no choice in the matter. 

When Trey (Kait's pitbull cross) came on the scene last fall , Wendy was less than thrilled. Not being a dog herself, she doesn't know how to play with other dogs and in 5 years has rarely played with Chandler, despite his repeated efforts to initiate games. Instead she'll lie, with her head on her paws and slyly bare her pearly white teeth at who ever is making playful advances.  But 6 month old Trey did not get the hint and would keep trying to play, and sometimes, just sometimes, Wendy would roll over and a silly game would ensue. When Sooki, Kait's tiny red-nosed pitbull pup came along a couple of months later, Wendy would succumb more easily to the constant puppy pestering and actually engage in play. Wendy has lightened up a bit.  Apparently old dogs CAN learn new tricks !

Wendy lives for chasing the ball and swimming and hanging out with her fellow humans.

I try to get to the beach every day.  Because of their mutual love of ball chasing, Wendy and Trey are easy dogs to hang out with there.  While Chandler is problematic because of this desire for adventure, Wendy and Trey are happy to endlessly run after the ball.  Again.   And again.   And again.  

                                      

Wendy is pretty low-key with one very irritating exception.  She is very excited about greeting the other people who live in our house.  She doesn't greet them coming in the front door.  No.  She gets all excited when she hears them get up in the morning.  She parks herself at the top of the stairs with a ball or some other beloved object in her mouth, wags her bum and cries pittifully.  Right now she is lying on the couch. She has heard sounds from downstairs.  Is someone up ?  Her tail thumps LOUDLY against the back of the couch.  She looks at me and whines.  She's stationing herself near the top of the stairs, ready to welcome whoever comes upstairs as if they'd be gone for weeks.   I never get this sort of greeting !   But hey  I'm just the human who feeds her, walks her and pays the vet bills !

     

Like I said.  She's a pretty easy-going dog.

A drapery of dogs ...

The term "pack of dogs" doesn't convey the warmest of images.  Perhaps at one time it was a more benign term but now when you hear about a pack of dogs, it brings to mind a slathering, on-the-hunt, agressive group.  How come lions get to be in a "pride"?  How threatening is the term a "colony" of bacteria ?   A "clutter" of cats is lovely but does not hint at the killers of mice and song birds that they are.  What are a bunch of crocodiles called ?  A "nest" !   A frikkin' NEST of sweet and fluffy CROCODILES !

I think it is time we change the collective term for a group of dogs from pack.

May I respectfully submit to you that I think a group of dogs should be changed to a "drapery" of dogs in recognition of the way they drape themselves over furniture, each other and us.

In support of same, I humbly present to you the following images.

I rest my case.

P.S.  Were you worried that this Blog would be about making draperies from dogs ?

There'll be some changes made (Chandler got quilled -- follow up)

That Chandler took off and got quilled yesterday is my fault.

I'd been warned about porcupines in the area, especially in the evening.  Still I ventured into the woods and allowed him to romp off.

Kait had warned me that his roving ways would catch up with him.  Her biggest fear was that he'd get lost.  She repeatedly suggested I keep him on a harness and long rope when walking him.  I didn't want to curtail his "freedom". 

Now Chandler and I are both paying for my foolishness.  He, because he had to endure having 33 quills yanked from his face and me because I'm going to have to pay the vet bill that will result from the extraction today of the one quill that was fully embedded under his skin.  Estimate:  $175-$250.

To which Chandler and I both respond:  "OUCH" !

So there'll be some changes made.

No more solo expeditions into the woods for Chandler.  

I hope he'll understand.

A foolish little dog

Oh dear Chandler has done it now.

It's evening and he's in on my bed resting, aching and feeling sorry for himself.

Earlier I'd taken him, Trey and Wendy for a walk to the unused road through the woods near Flandrum Hill.  It's a 1 km road that was created for a development that hasn't happened. 

As usual Wendy and Trey chased the ball while Chandler followed his nose reading mesages in the grass.

At some point we followed a path downhill into the woods. The path started wide and clear but ended up in a tangle of undergrowth.  Clearly it wasn't a path made by humans.  I threw the ball into the undergrowth a few times and the dogs rooted around for it. 

Chandler had followed his nose yet again and was nowhere in sight.  I called.  Off in the distance I heard his excited bark.  He sounded far off.  He barked again.  Was he moving farther away from me ?  I went back up to the road and continued calling and whistling.  The barking suddenly stopped.

 I was fearful that he'd finally gotten lost and had run the wrong direction.   It was ages before he appeared.  I wondered what he'd been barking at.  I bent down and sniffed him.  Not skunk.  Well that was a relief. 

But what was that under his chin ?

Yep.  If you look closely you can see porcupine quills.  It's not like I hadn't been warned.  Chandler is too adventurous for his own good and a friend had recently told me to watch out for porcupines in the area.

I checked and there were no quills in his mouth so I brought him back home and while Kait held him down on the couch, I took pliers and pulled the quills out one by one.  It was an awful process.  Making sure I just has the quill and no hairs in the pliars grip and then -- pulling -- FAST !  As I pulled, Kait would let out a gasp as if she was feeling poor Chandler's pain.  He was really good.  Didn't make even a whimper till we were down to the last five or so.   Then he growled and briefly showed his teeth and became silent again.  When we were all done we'd removed 33 quills.  BUT Kait found one that was fully under his skin so I'll need to take him to the vet tomorrow to have thaat looked aat.

I'm not sure if his free spirit days might be over.  I may have to keep him on a long leash on future walks there if he's going to tear off into the woods.

Chandler is not  dog who learns from experience.  My guess is that he'd have revenge on his mind if he ever encountered a porcupine again. 

Introducing the pack.

I'm always talking about "the pack" so I thought I'd introduce them to you.

At six years of age Chandler aka "Little Man", the mini Schnauzer, is the eldest.  He and Wendy, the lab / whippit cross are my dogs.  The other two, Trey and Sooki, belong to Kait.

But today is all about Chandler.  Chandler would like that because he does feel that it IS all about him.  

Chandler is bossy and dominant.  He's going to get himself killed one day by running up to a Rottweiler, standing on his hind legs, reaching up as high as he can (which isn't very high) and growling.  He's saying "this is my beach and  I AM THE BOSS".  Now if a dog turns and growls back, Chandler romps off quickly going "just kidding, just kidding".  He's a cowardly bully.

Wendy grew up with Chandler's "attitude" and generally just goes with it but both of them know she could thump him if she wanted.  But she doesn't want. 

Kait's dogs are both pit bulls.   Guess who's boss ?  Chandler of course.

We have several cats.  I have three and Kait's friend, who lives with us, has two.  Guess who finds the cats exciting but in an entirely inappropriate way ?  I've walked in to find a cat trying to walk across the floor, meowing pathetically while Chandler "humps" it. 

Chandler is the one who plays most with the cats.  Particularly Roswell.  Here's a link to a video of them playing.  

When I'm calling the dogs to go outside, Chandler is always the last to go out.  He waits till I've sat back down and then asks to go out with the others so I have to get back up and let him out. When it's time to come in he's never in sight.  I let the others in.  I call and call him to no avail.  As soon as I sit back down he's woofing at the door.  The dork.

When we go to the beach or park he does his own thing.  His own thing involves hunting mice or other little critters.  He never catches them but he sure enjoys roving around looking.   Sometimes he digs at an animal hole.  And digs.  And digs. 

It's still cold in the salt marsh behind the beach.  That doesn't stop Chandler from chasing ducks.  We're not talking about on land here.  No, he sees ducks in the water and has the misguided idea that he's a retriever and not the round-bodied, skinny-legged Schnauzer that he is.  So he runs full tilt into the frigid water happily watching the ducks scuttle off. 

Meanwhile I'm walking with the other dogs and throwing the ball.  Occassionally I forget that Chandler is even with us.  He vanishes for several minutes and then re-appears briefly and tears off again to have new adventures.

Chnadler's party trick is his howl.  He'll sit in your lap, put his paws on your shoulders and howl in your face.  To get him started I just have to quietly say "woooo" and he's off.  His head arches back and his nose turns to the sky.  The hard part is getting him to stop and ensuring that the howlathon doesn't spread to the rest of the pack.

Chandler is a very in-your-face sort of dog.  He never got the memo about respecting personal space.  He'll stare at you intently nose to nose.  I have no idea WHAT he's thinking.

He's a bit of a dork.  But he's MY dork and I love him.

Can't believe I'm here.

Some days I can't believe I'm here.  I'm really, really living in Nova Scotia. 

Initially I had some doubts about the big move from Ontario to Nova Scotia.  Heck some of those doubts happened as I was buying my house here.

But now ?  Now I am so glad that I am here.  It is a lovely place with a slower pace of life. 

Combining two mjaor changes, retirement and moving, was a big risk.  A lot to adapt to.  During the winter I struggled with the move and trying to create a new life for myself.  I took a Tai Chi class and joined Curves.
I was fortunate to find a friend via her Blog which I'd been reading back in Ontario.  The biggest find was the "Sunday Brunch" group through which I met some more nice people, a couple of whom I'm  currently auditioning as friends.  I also learned about a "pick up" choir in Halifax from a member of the Sunday Brunch group and have joined it. 

I keep in contact with family and friends back in Ontario by phone and email and this Blog. But this Blog has morphed into more than that.  It helps me distill, examine and share my adventures as I explore this new home.

I look down and the world  around my feet is new and different.  In the sky above me I have seen eagles. 

I am 60 and the world is a new and wonderous place.

It feels so right to be here.

Even in the rain...

A great day.

Friday was one of those marvellous days.  A lovely day spent outside.

The weather was mild and I spent ages digging in the garden.  I love digging in the garden.  A couple of weeks ago I'd dug a site and set up a pond.  I'd put a bit of water in it to ensure it was level.   If I'd put in too much then it would have been too heavy to adjust.  Trouble is when I came back from my visit to Ontario it had rained.  Water had flowed into the hole under the pond and the basically, well, ummmm, the pond was floating.  I had to lift it out.  Bail the water.  Reshape the hole and reset the pond.  Only this time I filled it right away. I worked on diging new gardens.  The garden doesn't drain well on one side so I'll be getting topsoil delivered so I can raise the level on one side.  I'll also enjoy using the topsoil to fix up a vegetable garden.

  

After lunch a chum came over and we went to explore the very dense woods at the end of my street.  I'd hoped that I'd be able to go far into the woods as far as a meadow I'd seen on Google Earth.  But it was far too tangled and overgrown to get very far.  But we did to see some lovely lush moss.  I'm zany for moss, fungii and lichen.  They look like magical little worlds within our bigger world.  (click on the images and see what I mean)

 

After she left I returned to the garden.

All the time I was draining holes and filling holes Trey kept bringing his ball and dropping it in the hole.  At one point I had to lift the pond to get the damn just-dropped ball out.

Guess that was his way of reminding me that he and the others wanted to go to the beach.

So off to Rainbow Haven we went. 

Boy did I learn a lesson.  Just because it's lovely a warm in our sheltered back garden, the beach is on the Atlantic Ocean !  It's cooler by the ocean.  I was at the beach for two hours and had a terrific walk but my hands froze.  A hazy mist or is it fog ?  blanketed the area.  It's so pretty the way it softens the edges of the world.  Looking down the beach the horizon line is not clear.  Reality just sorta fades out. 

 

Yesterday the forecast bore listening to.  "Highs of 20-25 INLAND and 9-16 in coastal areas".  Guess who lives in a coastal area ?  So if you're coming for a visit, bear that in mind.

Now I'll just make sure I've got those mini-gloves handy for the next month or so.  Just in case.

I feel so lucky to be here.