Coloured Marbles

Stop. Hammer Time

2011-11-29T17:55:00.000-08:00

It made me laugh to see this sign, but it seems it is not an original graffiti.

Yarn Bombing Bazaar

2011-11-28T04:19:00.000-08:00

I am tickled and delighted to see,

that the yarn bombing continues at Good Companions.

Just like they did to keep the tree warm, and others did to make Ottawa pretty.

It would seem that the elders are guerrilla marketing their bazaar!

How lovely are these lace doilies above?

Is this a wool apron for BBQing?

Pot holders made from rags like my Grandmaman taught me to make when I was a wee one.

I will be there on Saturday at 9:30 on the dot. Be there too!

This is all happening at 670 Albert Street at the the Good Companions Senior's Centre.

Leaving Something

2011-11-22T18:01:00.000-08:00

Someone left something to remember Elmaks...

Laser Pencil

2011-11-21T17:03:00.000-08:00

I unintentionally came up with another use for binder clips while fiddling during a long meeting.

I can now,

easily pick up my pencil (great for anyone with arthritis),
prevent the pencil from rolling off the meeting table,
prevent chewing my pencil (see the bite marks?), and
subtly aim it at speakers that are boring me and pretend it is a silencing laser!

Ottawa Has Skateboarding Lanes!

2011-11-20T17:04:00.000-08:00

Ta! Elmaks

2011-10-02T16:49:00.000-07:00

I saw something in my swap box by Elmaks tonight that I'd never really paid attention to.

I figured Elmaks had started to outline the letters of the word Take, and stopped after outlining only the T and the a.

Tonight I saw it differently, and I whispered, ta! back at you Elmaks ... we will miss you.

Ottawa Vampires Beware!

2011-09-20T17:12:00.000-07:00

Morning Moon

2011-09-19T18:37:00.000-07:00

A howl out to Coyote at Singing Moon

Baby it's Cold Outside

2011-09-17T07:16:00.000-07:00

It's getting cold, and the super empathic knitters are hitting the town, and making sure that all stays warm in Ottawa:

X Marks the G-Spots

2011-06-10T18:48:00.000-07:00

It seems that someone was inspired to carve a representation of my fashion tip.*

You can see this wooden beauty in front of Wicked Wanda's Adult Emporium on Bank Street.

* But, I do not recommend the use of nails or staples...

Enclosed

2011-03-27T15:13:00.000-07:00

I love marbles.

And so, Keir MacDonald, up and coming brilliant young artist, has touched my heart with the photo below and also with the blurb that accompanies it.

Through the lens of a camera; the world around it is compressed into a tiny space. The same phenomenon is taking place in this photograph of a falling marble. I noticed images visible in hanging water droplets, and was fascinated by how much of the world around them appeared to be contained in such a tiny space. This optical occurrence evoked feelings of entrapment and crowding. An entire world, and community existing in a small space. A self contained entity filled with people and their emotions, problems, joys, successes and failures. This kind of an environment is how I have always seen school. A large amount of lives in a tiny space, mostly accepting it as the entirety of their reality. This is an image of a student in front of her high school. The marble, which is falling through frame in the foreground, reveals it as her enclosed world.

Please help get his photo into the National Art Gallery by voting for him - follow this link and click Like next to his photo (you have to be signed in to Facebook).

If you have a blog, I encourage you to ask your followers to vote (pretty please) as the lovely Zoom did on Facebook, and the wonderful David Scrimshaw has done on his blog.

But hurry, the contest closes this Thursday, March 31st.

Love is a Mystery

2011-01-13T16:43:00.000-08:00

I used to work with the editor, Richard Garlick, who is an inspiration to me.

I read all the texts that he edited hoping to learn to become a better writer.

Even when he was busy and working on deadlines, he had time to answer my questions, whether work or life related. He loved to share a story or a laugh with anyone who came into his office.

I could hear him from my office, talking with others, and I would listen in. He is a marvelous raconteur. His laugh is musical, and his eyes are kind and encouraging.

He edited one of my texts once, and changed very little in it, and it gave me the courage to consider writing stories.

I don't work with him anymore, but thanks to Facebook I keep in touch.

Did I mention that he is also a wonderful singer and musician?

Here, take a moment to listen to him and his friend sing a tribute they wrote to Buddy Holly:

"Love Is A Mystery - a Buddy Holly song if there ever was one! Written and performed by Richard Garlick and Ian Hammond as a tribute to the man, lost to us 50 years ago, but whose music lives on."

Warm Posts, Warm Heart

2010-12-06T17:16:00.000-08:00

I must not be the only one that feels sad for the little stumps left behind after the meters are given the Cool Hand Luke treatment, while waiting to be transformed into bicycle racks*.

As I strolled down Booth Street, my heart was warmed to see a family of mittens adorning the posts. There was Papa Mitten,

Mama Mitten,

Big Sister Mitten,

And, of course, Baby Mitten...

*Below is what the meters are being transformed into - bicycle racks. They even come with instructions inscribed on them, Lock Bicycle to Post. And, In case you are lost and do not know where you are, it also reads, City of Ottawa.

Street Woolies

2010-12-01T17:07:00.000-08:00

Oh, I hope that I too get an invitation from Lily at Knithacker to post my photos of street woolies (as I like to call them).

See Lili, I captured on photo all these beautiful knittings just before they were removed. I don't understand why anyone would take them down, but it seems that they are gone within twenty four hours.

There are indecisive woolies,

no parking on either side sign enhancing woolies,

corset woolies (in honour of Nursemyra),

retro mod woolies,

and fuzzy wuzzy googly eyed woolies.

Yellow Brick House

2010-10-13T18:23:00.000-07:00

Going...

Going...

Gone!

Dragon Protected by Dog

2010-10-07T17:58:00.000-07:00

Where else have I seen a gate with a dragon protected by a dog, I asked myself when I saw this...

Oh, right! Here...

Punch Buggy Solitaire

2010-10-06T18:13:00.000-07:00

I have come up with a new game - Punch Buggy Solitaire!

It is the perfect way to avoid getting that all-alone punchbuggy emotion, and to hone your punch buggy playing skills.

Playing is simple. When you are alone, if you see a Volkwagen bug, simply give yourself a gentle discreet tap (act nonchalant), and then silently say to yourself, Punch buggy, [colour], no punch back.

When next you play the game with a date or with friends, you will notice a marked improvement in the speed of your punching skills.

Hearts & Love on the Streets of Ottawa

2010-10-04T17:24:00.000-07:00

Who are these people who display their love so unabashedly?

I admire them...

Police Line Up

2010-09-19T18:38:00.000-07:00

Zoom, I see your 6 cars at a donut shop, and I raise you 9 bikes and one car at a pub.

Oh, Shiny!*

2010-08-26T15:50:00.000-07:00

Oh, shiny!, I gasped in silent admiration as I noticed the guilding** on the Arch.

I had not intended to blog about the Arch. Coyote , Robin and this blog are covering that event.

But, then I came around to the other side, and caught the eye of one of the artists - he leaned over and viewed me through an opening below the green mesh.

As he stared and took a puff of his fag, I smiled and motioned, Can I take your picture?

He motioned back, Yes.

I wanted to gesticulate, Can I please come up and get a closer look at the beautiful work that you are doing? But, instead, I yelled, Beautiful!

One last smile was exchanged, my camera clicked and captured a moment, and off I went towards home where Chinese greens and pork dumplings with a special dipping sauce were being lovingly prepared for me.

*Dedicated to the Word Wizard
**I spell it with a "u" Wikipedia spells it without a "u". I did not feel like finding out why.

Red and Black - The Colour of Romance

2010-08-02T20:00:00.000-07:00

A girl and a boy are walking hand in hand ahead of me on Bank Street. They are damned cute even from the back.

I quickly pass them, whip myself around, smile at them, point to their shoes, and say, "That is so cute and romantic."

"Do you think so?" The girl inquires, "I was worried it might be dorky."

The boy just smiles shyly.

"Are you kidding? It's romantic as hell," I tell them.

They are a friggin' cute couple from the front too.

With their enthusiastic permission, I take a picture of their feet and continue on my way.

Sigh... ♥

Bathing Beauty

2010-07-21T17:00:00.000-07:00

Magi is grateful that the weather has cooled down again. But, she did find creative ways of staying cool during the heat wave...

Yellow Lady Bug*

2010-07-13T18:43:00.000-07:00

Groovy exterior above, and funky interior below

I love playing Punch Buggy, and I feel that there should be room for creativity and embellishment as you play the game.

Here are some spontaneous creative moves that have been dismissed by friends that I believe should count:

if you spot a Volkswagen bug on TV, you should be able to punch the person who is cuddling next to you,
if you have a picture of a Volkswagen bug on your camera, during a a long drive you should be able to look at the picture on your viewer, punch the driver and yell, "Punch Buggy, [colour], no punch back", over and over again until they clue in as to where you are seeing a Volkswagen bug,
if you see a groovy Volkswagen bug, as the one in the picture above, you should be able to punch twice (hard!), and
if you are walking around with someone who claims, "I don't play that game," you should still be able to punch them if you see a Volkswagen bug and declare, "Well, you are playing now."

I am hoping that Zoom and David Scrimshaw, will give me their support on this matter, since they appear to be well informed players. So far, I have not been able to convince my trusted friend that my rules are valid.

*En français c'est une Coccinelle (a lady bug).

Between the Lines

2010-06-24T16:18:00.000-07:00

How can I love you when you did not hold me?
You gave me life
How can I love you when you left me to wander?
You brushed my hair one hundred times at night
How can I love you when you did not protect me?
You had supper on the table every night
How can I love you when you did not support me?
You gave up your dreams to raise me
How can I love you when you did not wipe my tears?
You told me that my father adored me and admired me
How can I love you when you destroyed my art?
You have thanked me for teaching you how to be happy
How can I love you when you mocked my dreams?
You are proud of the woman I have become
How can I love you when you betrayed my secrets?
You love my children unconditionally
How can I love you when you told me I did not matter?
You told me I was an exceptional mother
How can I love you when you still don’t listen to me?
You are happy that I have a good life

I can love you because I can read between the lines.

I have been...

2010-06-23T18:55:00.000-07:00

I have been…
So nice
A cunt
Lovely
A bitch
Beautiful
A raving tyrannical bitch
Like the Virgin Mary
A sweetie
Stupid
Brilliant
Stupid
Kind
Your soul-mate
Too skinny
Tall
Too tall
Cold hearted
An angel
Crass
Your Principessa
A bitch in heat
One tough bitch
Cruel
The most beautiful woman who loves nature
Fucked up
Mommy dog
Just like Jesus
Wise
Mommy big woman
Mommy cat
Annoying
Yes, and an amazing woman

Puppy Love (on the Fringe)

2010-06-16T18:45:00.000-07:00

I brought Coyote along as my date to the Ottawa Fringe Festival Media Launch, and I was soon abandoned by him when he sniffed out this beauty. Click!, went his camera.

I am not sure if it was her colourful flowery bodice, or the high pitched sounds that she emitted when she performed that tickled his doggy fancy.

Miss Shoshinz, (who told Coyote her name was Yanome*) will be performing at the Ottawa Fringe Festival all week.

*Was the admiration mutual?

Time Traveler Caught in 2010 Picture

2010-04-24T14:53:00.000-07:00

Did you read about the time traveler caught in a 1940 picture?

Imagine my delight when I caught this time traveler in my 2010 picture.

Good Grief Too

2010-04-20T17:55:00.000-07:00

I suspect that this will be the most photographed wall by Ottawa bloggers in the next few hours.

My picture did not turn out, but Robin's did.

You see the person in the picture? We struck up a conversation.

I found out that he is new to Ottawa, and he has a blog. I welcomed him to the Ottawa blog scene, and asked where he is from.

He's from a small northern town. And, well, it turns out he knows my brother and grew up with my step-nephew.

Good grief, it's a small world.

Des Clips

2010-04-08T16:40:00.000-07:00

When I was a single parent, Papa, who was a practical man, showed his concern and love by giving me useful gifts.

Sometimes it was tools, other times groceries, or cleaning supplies.

One time he brought me an old cedar picnic table that we'd had when I was growing up.

"It's funny," I said to him after setting it up in the yard, "I remember the table and seats as much wider."

He tilted his head to one side, his eyes narrowed slightly, "Well, it was. Damned thing wouldn't fit in the car, so I trimmed off the ends."

One of my favorite gifts was a plain, dark beige metal box that he gave me at arms length while smiling mischievously, "Guess what's in the box?"

"Clips?" I suggested.

"Yes! Open it." He never questioned how I knew he'd brought me (binder) clips. We called them by their french name, "Des clips."

Of course I still have them. I was pleasantly surprised to discover, when I started blogging, that I am not the only one out there who likes, uses, or creates with clips.

My favourite use for binder clips will always be the bed sheet forts that the boys and I would build using clips to secure the half dozen or more sheets to tables and chairs - hours of fun.

Mural, Mural on the Wall

2010-02-12T18:21:00.000-08:00

I took this picture in November of 2008

And this one on the same wall in October of 2009

I can't wait to see what next year will bring.

Friendly Trickster

2010-02-08T17:37:00.000-08:00

I do a double take and re-read his sign.

At first I did what I am sure he expects most people to do. I read, Help fight homophobia.

"I love your sign," I tell him, and he uncovers his face for a better picture.

He has friendly trickster eyes, and his smile is engaging.

"Did you know that there is a $55 fine for panhandling?" He asks.

No, I didn't.

"Yup, there is. But, the cops were nice to me one night. They told me to go across the River to panhandle - they don't fine you there."

He pauses and then he laughs, "Ya, but they forgot to mention that they put you in jail."

Mystery of Life

2010-01-22T19:05:00.000-08:00

I've been carrying this little blue sphere (see photo) in my pocket for three days.

Every once in a while I pluck it out, marvel at its shininess, and then gently bounce it in my hand to feel its weight.

Someone left it where I was sure to find it. I don't know who - it's a mystery of life. I like mysteries of life.

But, it's not just any shiny blue sphere. It's a bearing ball.* I love bearing balls as much as I love marbles - well maybe a bit more.

*I usually call them ball-bearings, but Wikipedia corrected me.

GRRRRRuesome Couple

2009-10-26T18:47:00.000-07:00

In a recent email Zoom asked me, "By the way, the zombie walk was lovely. Was Erratic Genius there this year?"

Last year Zoom walked right up to Erratic Genius and took his picture without recognizing him. Not even when he growled at her, "Brains, brains, brains!"

Yes, Zoom, he was there again this year.

Warning! Picture of pestilent face ahead.

Erratic Genius

Pin-Up Girl

GRRRRruesome Couple

Can you guess what kind of zombies they were?

Corny Jack-O'-Lanterns

2009-10-25T19:04:00.000-07:00

Remember this stalk of corn? Well, it grew jack-o'-lanterns.

I can't wait to see what it grows in December ...

Sugar Pie

2009-10-18T19:09:00.000-07:00

Isn't that the most beautiful pie you have ever seen?

It's a sugar pie - une tarte au sucre. I made it according to my maman's instructions with my great-grandmother's rolling pin. Oh, it was sweet heaven delicious.

Musicians of New Brunswick

2009-10-09T19:37:00.000-07:00

I was rushing home, when I came across a group of friendly musicians.

They came as separate pairs to visit friends in Ottawa, connected and decided to play together. They are not a band, but rather two separate musical duos.

I didn't want to chat too long, since they had an audience and people seemed to be in a generous mood.

Their bluegrass music and sweet harmonies, and their hip grungy look sent me off in a happy humming mood.

Boys Don't Knit

2009-10-06T17:14:00.001-07:00

I approach the gentleman sitting at a local café, and I ask him what he is knitting. He flashes me a kind smile, and as he shows me his knitting, he explains that he is working on his first sweater.

"I imagine that this must impress the women," I say hoping that he is not offended by my sexist comment. I quickly add that my understanding is that knitting used to be a male only occupation.

"Yes that is what I hear too. You know the expression quoted by feminists, take back the night? I like to say, that I am taking back the knit."

A Tail of a Whale

2009-10-05T10:00:00.000-07:00

Leviathan: Watercolors of Whales from William Jardine’s The Naturalist’s Library

I get on the elevator, and I sigh. I am not smiling in my usual happy way.

I look at my elevator companion, and I see a elderly impish man. Plastered on his face is a shit eating grin.*

He has come down on the elevator, but he does not exit and he now goes up with me. Instantly he turns to me, "So, why is your hair long?"

I look at him, and my grumpiness fades, and I am smiling. "Because I love my hair long."

"And why do you have blue eyes?" His own black eyes reflect a tease.

"I don't have blue eyes, " I break out into a sincere laugh, and I feel happiness, "but my father had blue eyes."

I look down at his hands - he is holding an unfinished soapstone carving. He follows my gaze, "I carve things. This one is going to be a whale. Do you see the tail?"

"Yes. Can I take a picture?"

"It'll cost you five dollars."

"Ha! I'm not giving you money." He seems well off.

"A picture of my art is worth five dollars." His face is serious, but his eyes are laughing out loud.

I reach my floor, and I am in a fabulous mood now.

"See ya," I say as I leave the elevator.

"I'm rich you know!" And he laughs, as I watch him push the down button.

*Slang - a sly, knowing, or self-satisfied grin: somewhat vulgar
Webster's New World College Dictionary Copyright © 2005 by Wiley Publishing, Inc., Cleveland, Ohio.

Corny

2009-09-22T18:10:00.000-07:00

I would expect to find a stone in a field of corn, but . . .

Well, you get the picture.

STELLAaaaaaaah!

2009-09-13T10:52:00.000-07:00

Stella has a breakfast dilemma, so I prepared my favourite breakfast and took pictures to respond to her request for breakfast ideas.

The night before, I place in a pot:

1 cup of old fashioned oats,
a few spoonfuls of nuts or seeds,
a dash of cinnamon (optional), and
water to cover everything to about a quarter inch past the dry ingredients.

I let the mix soak overnight. This cuts the cooking time from 20 minutes to 1 minute. (I also leave a bowl of frozen berries on the counter to thaw overnight.)

In the morning, I heat the mix of soaked oats and seeds on the stove. Once heated, I place the oatmeal, a splash of milk (cow, soy, rice, or other kind of your choice) in a bowl, and top it all with the thawed berries and a sprinkle of brown sugar or maple syrup.

I wash it all down with a cup of hot black Assam tea, and I am sorrensified until noon.

Fashion Tip: X Hides the Spots

2009-08-28T17:13:00.000-07:00

Pin-Up Girl and Flower Child run up to the bathroom to get ready to go out. They're both so pretty, I find it confusing that they say they will need an hour and a half to get ready.

The bathroom door is open and I hear happy chatter and girlie giggles - I enjoy listening to them.

Pin-Up Girl comes over to my desk where I am sitting and procrastinating at blogging,"Woodsy, do you have medical tape?"

"Yes, I do. But why do you need it?" I worry that maybe one of them has poked themselves in the eye with the mascara brush (as I might do).

"Oh," sighs Pin-Up Girl, "I can't wear a bra with my new dress, so I need the tape in case of a wardrobe malfunction."

I give her the tape and continue to efficiently put off writing.

Then, I realize that I don't understand what she is going to do with the tape. Tape her dress to her bosom?

"Hey, Pin-Up Girl, why the tape?" I yell out.

"Oh, you know," she purrs back innocently, "gotta make little x's".

Darwin Salutes You

2009-08-06T18:56:00.000-07:00

I watched as the fellow at the top of the ladder used a shovel to remove the metal siding from the house. He would pry, then pull, then awkwardly juggle the shovel and the large piece of loose siding, and then finally drop the siding below to the left of the ladder and almost on top of the fellow at the bottom of the ladder.

I cringed and wondered if I should say something Hey, guys, someone is going to get seriously hurt. But I knew I would have no influence, so I watched silently pondering what to do while I took pictures.

Then, to my relief, along came a city inspector in shining aviator glasses riding in a white car to rescue them from certain inclusion into the Darwin Awards.

Ice Cream Kisses

2009-07-31T16:32:00.000-07:00

Pin-up Girl, the Erratic Genius and I demonstrate

Ice-cream kisses is a concept that the Word Wizard, the Erratic Genius and I came up with when they were little.

Instead of taking a bite out of each others ice-cream and risking cries of Hey, he took a huge bite or Gross he licked mine we would tap each ice-cream against the other to share a taste.

We still do it.

Erratic Genius Art

2009-07-09T16:44:00.000-07:00

Lynn, over at TurtleHead, asked in a comment if the Erratic Genius was still creating art since his sweet Window Garden days.

Yes he is, but it has evolved dramatically...

Window Garden

2009-06-29T18:53:00.000-07:00

When I had to stop being a stay-at-home mom, and had to go work in an office, I mentioned to the Erratic Genius that I missed the hours of gardening that I used to indulge in while he and the Word Wizard dug for dinosaur bones, ran through the sprinkler, made mud messes, and entertained me endlessly with stories, laughter, and made-up songs.

Soon after he created a faux stained glass window garden for my office (see picture) - he was only 8 years old.

(Sadly, when my office was relocated to another building, I had to leave the garden behind - the sun had baked it to the glass. Notice the four leaf clover.)

Serenity

2009-06-18T18:28:00.000-07:00

I came across this bird drawing a year ago on Papa's birthday

After my papa died, not long after, I had a dream about him.

I stood inside an ancient church at the very back. Everything was dark, and everything was cold.

I looked down at the stone floor, at the dust on the stone floor, and at my bare feet in the dust on the stone floor.

I looked up and ahead, and I saw light and I felt warmth emanating from the front of the church. And there stood mon beau Papa. He smiled, and his smile was beatific. He lifted and cupped his hands and motioned me to come forward and see the secret that he held in his cupped hands.

I cautiously moved towards him, and when I reached him, I finally also smiled. He did not speak, but gently nodded at his hands. I looked into his blue eyes and then down to his hands. Inside, within a soft warm glow he held a little bird.

The next day I called La Sorcière, ma maman, and told her about the dream.

She barely let me finish. "Your Papa always worried about you, and what he wanted more than anything was for you to find serenity... the little bird is serenity."

10, 000 Pieces of Lego

2009-06-09T18:17:00.000-07:00

What I find the most difficult to get used to, now that my boys are not constantly in my hair; competing vocally in volume for my attention; tangled up in my arms; being read to; tickling, teasing, hugging and kissing me; crying, whining, angering at too much homework; asking repeatedly if supper is ready; practising their swearing skills; dumping 10,000 pieces of Lego on the floor and rustling through them for hours for the right pieces; dragging friends through the front door and out the back door over and over again; slamming the front door, leaving the back door open wide; shouting and running from room to room; gathering weapons, armour, and provisions for the dragon adventure they are plotting; yelling to each other while one is on the toilet and the other is keeping a running commentary on the TV show that they are watching, "What's happening now", "Fuck, you just missed the best part", "Oh, shit, I just need to finish wiping my ass. What's happening now?"; singing dirty nasty Scottish drinking songs; playing Alice Cooper records at maximum volume; and practicing Shakespeare lines loud enough to wake the dead, is the silence.

Dirt Pirate

2009-06-03T10:11:00.000-07:00

I was commenting to a friend that one of the differences between gardening in the country and gardening in the city, is the kind of treasures that are found in the process of digging.

In the country I regularly found miniature shells, broken pottery and glass, antique glass bottles and glass stoppers, ancient blunt headed nails, and even rusted old tools.

In the city, so far, I have found a used condom (not pictured), an unused condom, pop bottles, beer cans, a lipstick, and a new spoon.

That is, until last Sunday...

I found what appears to be an old broken bottle neck and a newer piece of a china cup.

Did my friend hide those in my city garden to surprise me?

Cosmic Cosmos

2009-05-31T10:32:00.000-07:00

Years ago, when I lived in the country, in a small log cabin, I was given a package of mixed wildflower seeds. This was the start of my love of gardening.

Amongst the many beautiful flowers that grew from those seeds, all in a tangle of erratic brilliant colours, one in particular caught my fancy - the cosmos*. When fall came, just before the first frost, I collected, segregated, and dried the seeds from my wildflower bed.

Come spring, I purposefully planted all the seeds of my favoured flower, the cosmos, at the entrance to my cabin to create a wide frenzied patch of soft varied pinks and deep brilliant magenta. They flowered from early spring until late fall. They were stunning and they were admired by all who visited.

One day when Papa was over, he stood in front of the flowers staring at them for a while before commenting, "Did you know that those were your grandmother's favourite flower?" I had not known that.

Years later when I traveled to the small island that my paternal ancestors had first settled on and cleared for farming, I was pleasantly surprised to find that everywhere I walked cosmos grew in abundance. They bordered yards and driveways, were interspersed into tamed gardens, and were scattered wildly in fields.

Then, not so long ago when I lived in the suburbs, a dear friend painted cosmos on a watering can for me (see picture). Needless to say, I was thrilled. I had never told her about my love of cosmos. Amongst the dozens of varieties of flowers in my garden, she had picked the cosmos to paint because she felt they reminded her of me.

It has been a while since I grew comsos, but yesterday I planted eighteen cosmos plants in my garden. I can't wait until fall to collect the seeds, so that next spring I can grow a huge crazy patch of them.

*"The word Cosmos is derived from the Greek, which means a balanced universe."

Downtown Air Service - Part II

2009-04-30T17:53:00.000-07:00

Remember the airplane seat? Well, yesterday I came across the whole crew!

Heart... broken

2009-02-21T10:05:00.000-08:00

On my way to work, I spotted something in a public garbage can that looked familiar. It was half of a swap box by elmaks!. Without hesitation I carefully reached in and halted its trip to the dump. I looked at the surrounding poles and walls hoping to spot the other piece.

"There, on the ground," muttered my trusted companion pointing next to the garbage can. I grabbed it and placed both pieces delicately into my great big black bag. My rescue was not as heroic and brave as Zoom's, but it was as heartfelt.

I would like to fix the box, and install it on the inside entrance of my home, so that all who cross my threshold have the opportunity to take part in a swap. But I feel that I require the artist's blessings...

What do you say, elMaks!, may I fix it and install the swap box indoors?

Nods and Smiles

2009-02-07T14:41:00.000-08:00

I was stepping off the sidewalk to cross the road, and I heard the great roaring purr of its motor.

"Hallelujah, the buses are back!" I rejoiced silently.

I looked up at the bus driver, flashed her a smile, she responded with a friendly nod*, and we both raised our hand and waved at each other at the same time.

*There was little ill-will toward the strikers, who received nods and smiles from their customers. "And nods and smiles were returned," the Citizen said. "A very different strike in 1919"

Morning Treat

2009-02-02T18:16:00.000-08:00

I saw a cowboy on my way to work this morning.

Oh, what is it about cowboys that makes a woman's heart skip a beat?

Keeping Tabs on Fashion

2009-01-23T10:00:00.000-08:00

I stopped her because I was awed by her coat. As we chatted, she shared with me that her boyfriend had made it. The pull-tabs on the shoulders were hand-sewn and reminded me of chainmaille. She wandered off, and I continued to gaze at her, intrigued by how her gentle voice and sweet demeanor contrasted with the armour-like coat.

A Picture of Still No Busses

2009-01-20T14:00:00.000-08:00

I know how to end the bus strike...

Deny everyone who is part of the negotiations the use of their car until they reach a settlement.

Drunk Angry Beaver

2009-01-19T19:18:00.000-08:00

According to the friendly young man on the left, I really pissed off his buddy on the right by taking his picture. That beaver was a mean drunk, and he startled the hell out of me when I first saw him.

Higher Powers

2009-01-12T19:46:00.000-08:00

A few days ago, I was focused on a deep conversation with Coyote.

Magi, my cat, walked in, and with that mysterious power that cats have, directed me to stand up, fill a tea-cup with cold water and place it on the floor in front of her, all while I continued talking and listening to Coyote.

Without missing a beat, and certainly not to be outdone, Coyote's camera made him stand up, point the lens at Magi and take a perfectly sweet picture of her.

Chic Geek

2009-01-11T08:32:00.000-08:00

J., from Please Pick-up Your Socks, identified the hat worn by the snow bunny as a Pook Toque. She suggested that I go to YouTube to learn more about it.

I found the video below, which is worth watching for the adorably smart and funny comments by Siân about how to wear the toque. She makes a geeky hat sound cool⁶.

Pook Toque - by Siân

Snow Bunny

2009-01-07T19:13:00.000-08:00

Imagine what might have ensued if Coyote had been walking behind this young man...

Happy Christmas and Merry New Year to All

2008-12-24T07:15:00.000-08:00

This is my first Christmas without my two sweet monsters, Word Wizard and Erratic Genius. I miss them, but I raised them to be free and independent, so I am proud and at peace with their choice to be away from home and travel Europe during the Holidays.

Above is a picture of Magi in 2004 when she was six months old. She thought we had put up the tree for her amusement. Every year since then, she gets very frisky when the tree comes out. I hope that she forgives me if I don't put up the tree this year. I have decorated a giant hibiscus instead.

Joyeux Noël et Bonne Année à tous!

My Lady

2008-12-16T19:56:00.000-08:00

Robin, at Watawa Life, took a picture of Our Lady's head in Winter, and I took one of her feet this past Autumn.

Of Pigeons and Feathers

2008-12-13T10:08:00.000-08:00

Last August, I came upon this insightful gentle man. I was intrigued by the feathers protruding from his backpack, and his slow interaction with the birds surrounding him.

He was picking at something in the garbage and feeding it to a pigeon perched on the garbage can. I missed the shot of the pigeon calmly eating out of this hand.

I leaned over to see what he was picking at, and I saw a dismembered pigeon - only wings and head remained. (I hope that he was feeding the live pigeon cheese that was next to the partial pigeon)

We chatted and he informed me that he knew why the pigeon had been mutilated. According to him, there are people who love pigeon meat. They scatter rice and grains for the pigeons to feed on, which when ingested expands and ruptures their stomach and kills them. The pigeon meat aficionados then come along and collect the carcasses, leaving behind heads and wings. Could it be that this explanation resolves the murder mystery?

Before parting ways, he asked that I take time to look at pigeons as they take flight, so that I might be astonished at the colour of the feathers under their wings. He also urged me to hold a feather up to the sun and look at the sparkling light produced by the sun filtering through it.

I encourage you to do the same.

Crazy for Snow

2008-12-09T18:27:00.000-08:00

I asked these committed bikers if they were enjoying the snow.

They saw my exuberant happy smile, my frost pinched cheeks, my wild sparkling eyes and the accumulated snow on my hat and coat, and they knew I was one of them.

"Yes, we love this snow. Don't worry, you're not the only crazy one."

The Amazing Technicolour Dream Treat

2008-12-06T14:34:00.000-08:00

If you want to make me happy - don't bother with flowers, diamonds, or French cuisine - just leave small, colourful, artsy-craftsy things on my desk.

Pencil Angst

2008-11-27T14:00:00.000-08:00

"Has anyone seen my pencil? I just had it!" I say feeling a tad annoyed.

Marijuana Girl looks at me, laughs and points to the back of my head.

I sigh.

Labanne c'est pas banale

2008-11-21T17:00:00.000-08:00

I have a weakness for boys

with red hair.

My first fiancé had red hair and freckles.

We were nine.

UMI Café

2008-11-18T19:50:00.000-08:00

OM
a strong cappuccino gently served
on a cold day

We Clicked

2008-11-13T20:31:00.000-08:00

She wouldn't stop staring at me, so I took her picture!

Making Pies and Rememberance

2008-11-10T07:41:00.000-08:00

On Sunday I volunteered to make pies at St. Luke's Anglican Church for their Lunch Club and Drop-In Centre.

There, I met a young woman whose sweetheart is on a peace-keeping mission in Afghanistan, and it made me think to remember the sacrifice our present soldiers and their loved ones are making in the name of peace.

As I was rolling out pastry tops, I remembered my elderly friend, May, who lived through the bombings in London during WWII. Her father would insist that they make tea, eat biscuits, and sing happy tunes while the bombs fell all around them. "If we die tonight, we will die happy," her father would tell his family. They survived, and May recounted those terrifying times with a tenderness in her heart for her father's brave attempt at keeping them sane.

I was using my maternal great-grandmother's rolling pin to roll out the pastry, which made me remember my grandmother's cousin who survived a grenade blast in World War II. He was saved by his best friend who threw himself on the grenade. My grandmother would get misty eyed whenever she told me this story. I always wondered if she had been sweet on the boy who died so bravely.

We made the pastry,

peeled, cored, and cut up apples,

peeked,

decorated,

laughed,

taught,

guided,

beamed,

filled,

and we produced over one hundred pies!

Morning Heartbreak

2008-11-08T17:00:00.000-08:00

"He's covered in some kind of sticky resin. He's screwed."

The pigeon was calm and seemed at peace in this young man's caring hands.

"I am going to have to do him in."

Who or what did this to this poor creature?

Downtown Air Service

2008-11-06T18:45:00.000-08:00

Zoom is so lucky, I mumbled to myself today during a stroll, she always sees the coolest things during her walkabouts.

And then, I saw the woman sitting in the airplane seat on the sidewalk!

She seemed unscathed, and she was agreeable to chat.

"I am waiting for my husband to pick me up," is all the explanation she offered.

Capturing Woodsy

2008-11-04T17:49:00.001-08:00

While our mayor is busy shopping for street furniture to make our city swellegant and in sync with the nature of its good citizens, Lise (pictured above) is working hard at trying to earn an honest living. Lise is a talented pixie-like young woman who for $5 will draw almost anything you request.

It is her goal to complete her high school diploma, and she is aspiring to apprentice in a tattoo parlor.

I liked Lise immediately – she was amiable and talented.

I asked if she could draw me. "Of course," she responded with unblinking confidence.

I am delighted with the way she captured my astral presence.

Hallowe'en Costume Contest Winners

2008-10-31T19:43:00.000-07:00

Scariest Costume - M Girl as Sarah Palin

Sexiest Young Men Costume - Last Minute Men with One Woman

Cutest Witch Costume - Good Witch from the North

Spookiest for a Good Cause Costume - Guys Against Hunger

Most Clever Pet Costume - Magi as a Vampire

Best Cat Toy Costume - Jen G

Happy Hallowe'en to all!

I Survived a Zombie Invasion

2008-10-21T18:29:00.000-07:00

On Sunday I heard strange noises in my little bathroom. When I looked in I found five zombies all admiring themselves and each other in the mirror.

What sweet monsters, I thought.

It seems that if you clap your hands in glee and smile with approval, and then offer to take their picture, you have a 100% chance of surviving a zombie invasion.

Blog Action Day - Poverty

2008-10-15T18:00:00.000-07:00

...it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair... Charles Dickens

Merivale Mall Maverick

2008-10-06T18:33:00.000-07:00

"Maverick, MAVERICK! MAVERICK, are you disobeying me?"

The Erratic Genius and I look at each other and start laughing, and I quip, "Well, if you give a kid such a name you, what do you expect?"

Three Intellectuals

2008-10-01T19:42:00.000-07:00

I was trying to get a shot of a church spire on Somerset West last Friday, when these three fellows addressed me.

"Hey, take our picture," they teased. I was initially a tad intimidated, but the vibes were friendly. I took a photo of them and asked, "Can I put you on the Internet?"

The young lad in the middle responded with hip hop moves and, "Ya, sure - and say that we are three intellectuals who like to have their pictures taken!"

The fellow on the left, is sincerely hoping to be a model some day.

Yellow Rose of Elmdale

2008-09-28T18:28:00.000-07:00

About a year ago, my trusted friend dropped by one night, and invited me to the Elmdale Tavern.

"Oh, but I'm not a fan of country music," I apologized.

"Don't worry, it's Ball and Chain. You'll like them, I promise you!"

I have been back six times since, and not just because I keep missing Jody Benjamin flashing us her frilly underwear!

The Bus Tickets

2008-09-24T18:53:00.000-07:00

He is a young lad - he is maybe fourteen. He walks up to me and quietly asks if I would be kind enough to trade his two bus tickets for a loonie, "They are worth two dollars, you know."
Yes, I know.

I let him down for a second when I tell him that I don't need the tickets. "But wait," I say and encourage him with a smile. "I think I have a loonie that you can have." I search my wallet well aware that he can see that I have a couple of bills. I find three quarters, a dime and a penny. I place them in his slender hand.

"Here, you should have the tickets," he repeats.

"No, I really don't need them. What are you up to?" I ask cautiously, "Do you have a home to go to?"

"I'm just wandering around killing time before my curfew."

"Can't you go home before your curfew?"

"No, it's a shelter. I can't get in before ten."

As I write this, I've been home safe and comfortable for over two hours. He has just been allowed into the shelter.

He's about to walk away and I say, "Wait", and I give him five dollars. It seems such a pittance, but then I remember when five dollars was a fortune to me - it wasn't that that long ago.

We look at each other for a few seconds - he has gentle intelligent eyes shaded by a lock of blond hair.

He tries to give me the tickets a third time.

"I'll make you a deal," I tell him. He looks at me suspiciously. "Keep the tickets, and instead, one day when you are doing well, and I have a good feeling you will do well one day, I want you to pass on the favour to someone else, OK?"

He hesitates only a second, "I will."

I think that he believes me that I believe in him. And, I do.

As he walks away he shares his faith with me, "God Bless."

(In memory of Steven (Cactus) Beriault)

I Get a Kick Out of You

2008-09-18T18:50:00.000-07:00

I get a kick out of walking behind these guys. Sometimes I imagine that they are holding hands and strolling along singing a little love duet.

I stopped a pair of them recently, and commented on my appreciation of their presence in the downtown core.

One of the two laughed, and responded by repeating my words teasingly, "Ya, we think it's cool too."

Darn, I hadn't noticed that I had used hippie talk to address them.

Is it Art?

2008-09-11T17:30:00.000-07:00

My instant reaction when I saw the black ink splash on the orange newspaper box and grey sidewalk was, "Oh, cool, guerrilla art!"

Well, maybe it was just someone having a klutzy day, but as my favorite band, Astronaut Love Triangle, would certainly say, "If you see it as art, then it is art!"

Coyotes' Viewpoint

2008-09-08T10:27:00.000-07:00

When I become familiar with the sights on my walking route and there are no people to strike up a conversation with, I look up.

It is interesting to see what I pass by every day and don't notice because I am looking at life at street level.

It has come to my attention that Coyotes also have a fondness for gazing upwards.

Recently, while looking up I saw sky high gardens,

a romantic looking balcony,

a cool tin cat on a roof,

swanky wonky reflections,

and a coyote's breakfast - pigeons!

Duty Calls

2008-09-01T08:00:00.000-07:00

So, what do you call a congregation of bicycle policemen other then the obvious, "sexy"?

In Full Bloom

2008-08-30T16:18:00.000-07:00

I met Michelle at the Folk Festival. Isn't she lovely? She is also as sweet and genuine as she is pretty. We chatted amicably for a few minutes as she explained her wares which she mostly makes from re-used materials. (mouse over Michelle's picture)

She had pins, barrettes, necklaces, fridge magnets and earrings made from scrap material, poker chips and/or buttons.

She also had jigsaw puzzle piece earrings made from one puzzle. The pieces had been divided up and were being sold around the world. Michelle hopes that it will make people feel "part of the big picture".

I was amused by one of her little boxes of magnetic poetry for creating naughty poems - she cut out all of the words from National Geographic magazines.

"Can you believe that I found the word boobies in National Geographic?" she chirped proudly and then quickly added, "You know that it is actually the name of a bird, right?"

My favourite item at her table were her button frames.

For many years I have held on to a tin of my grandmaman's black buttons which she collected from her discarded dresses, my grandpapa's worn out suits, and her eight children's outgrown clothes.

Michelle's black button frame has inspired me to make my own frame with my grandmaman's buttons. Inside the frame I will place a sweet picture of my grandmaman when she was a little girl.

The Watcher

2008-08-25T16:35:00.000-07:00

23
I was pleased when Fourth Dwarf dropped by my downtown tree-top abode today with plans to shop at the Ottawa Parkdale Market and then to stroll to the Cube Gallery to see the Futurists show.

I played my usual game of looking at a painting, then reading the title of the painting, and then looking back at the painting to see what influence reading the title might have had on my perception of the painting.

"You know Dwarfie," I said to my trusted friend, "I often find that I can look at a painting and like it, but then if I read the title I suddenly love it."

One painting in particular intrigued me (picture 1). The title made my heart jump and love the painting (picture 3).

"Hi Andrew," I said cautiously approaching the artist, Andrew King. "I am curious about the meaning of the title of this painting, Kanata Watch."

"Do you live in Kanata?" he asked flashing me a sweet inviting smile.

"Well, I lived in Kanata for years, and a month ago I sold everything and moved to downtown Ottawa. I relate to the little people in your painting. They've opened up their umbrellas and a benevolent wind is carrying them off to freedom. They are escaping... (picture 3). Well, that's just my interpretation according to my experience," I mumbled blushing.

I suddenly felt ridiculous and embarrassed remembering that some artists don't like people analyzing their work.

"Well, you understand the painting then," he admitted graciously and with sincerity.

Grandchildren of Punk

2008-08-21T16:38:00.000-07:00

I got a kick out of these guys.

I stopped to listen to the end of a song, and then I chatted with them for a bit. They were friendly, funny and engaging.

Tyler, the young man in the middle with the guitar, was particularly charming. I can't tell you if his singing was in tune or if he had perfect pitch, but I can say that he had a strong pleasant voice that gave me goose-bumps on my little nymph arms.

They were playing their music and singing in the middle of the chaos and destruction that is part of Bank Street these days.

"So, are you guys part of a band?" I asked.

"No, we're just playing for the fun of it," responded Tyler.

"You guys are like at the Blue Skies of Punk," I said not too cleverly in reference to their surroundings.

"Sure, country's cool too!" responded Tyler.

Maybe he thought I said Blue Grass.

Mellow Folk at the Ottawa Folk Fesitval

2008-08-19T18:00:00.000-07:00

I spent Sunday evening at the Folk Festival. Once again, I enjoyed finding people to speak to. Mostly though, because I was feeling sleepy, I watched to see what folks do to pass time while listening to great music. I saw people

sun tanning,

nursing their babies,

drinking coffee and reading,

possibly sitting on their laurels,

and knitting.

Blue Skies - “Only great minds can afford a simple style.”*

2008-08-14T17:00:00.000-07:00

Pandora and I walked around Blue Skies spotting people with style. We had fun approaching people, complimenting them on their look, and then engaging in a conversation. Everyone was friendly and happy to share a moment and a few words with us. Mouse over the picture to read more!

Cocktail Party

Blue Skies Friends

Happy Reunion

Dancing Soul Mates

Always Fantasize

Line Dancing While Waiting for Corn on the Cob

We are Corny Boys (is that what they said?)

Muddy Bliss

Corn Angel

Harmonica Fella

Tollar Family

X-tra Sweet & Tender

Ain't That the Truth

LiPS - Live Poets Society

Sparkling Love

Romantic Guy

Just Met

Super Family

Bob & The Happy Hippie

Pandora and Woodsy Skins

* Stendhal - One of the most original and complex French writers of the 19th century, 1783-1842.

Loving Welcome - Elder to Youngster

2008-08-12T18:00:00.000-07:00

I was recently introduced to an elder. I have not known her for very long, but she is already someone I love dearly. She is fiery but sweetly honest about her feelings and her opinions. She invited me to visit her at her country home last week-end,

"Come and have a tour of my garden, and then I'll feed you supper."

The minute I walked in the door she ran to hug me, and dragged me across her entrance into the kitchen to show me something on her counter. "Look," she said enthusiastically, "look how pretty these Johnny Jump-ups look in the container you gave me at Christmas." (picture 1)

We sat down in the living room and started conversing, but before long she jumped up and again dragged me off to her kitchen.

"Here is a basket for you, here's one for me, now come along - we are going to go harvest some herbs and vegetables for you to bring home." She commanded. (picture 2)

All while chatting and walking, she picked herbs, peas, rhubarb, zucchinis, onions, hot peppers, and asparagus, and she encouraged me to pick along. We crushed herbs between our fingers and inhaled deeply, we nibbled on bits of this and that, and she pointed out flowers and trees. I was in heaven!

I am always in awe when someone I barely know makes me feel so loved and welcome into their home and heart.

Blue Skies - Hoots and Hellmouth - Part II

2008-08-10T18:00:00.000-07:00

I was so taken by the energy that these boys put out during the workshop that I knew I had to see them on the main stage that evening and dance to them.

I urged my little sister, Gerbil Queen, to join me. Ever the trusting soul she agreed to meet me later at the front of the main stage. Well, within seconds of their powerful music and clever lyrics starting we were dancing as hard as they were rocking us with their big sound! We even revived our talent at doing the bump to dance to This Hand is a Mighty Hand, a gospel song on amphetamines.

We were glowing and exhilarated after their encore, wishing they would play the whole night. Gerbil Queen turned to me, her gentle eyes sparkling with energy, and proclaimed, "Ils sont sauvages!".

The next day, I went looking for the fellas hoping to get them to autograph my CD of their wicked music. I saw three of the band members coming towards me, and I headed up to them with a big smile on my face.

"Hi guys," I said confidently, "I hear that you are friendly and happy to sign autographs".

"What? Who said that? Fuck off!"responded handsome Andrew "Hellmouth" Gray.

"Ya, get lost," chimed in Sean Hoots (whose gorgeous red curly hair I desperately resisted touching).

"Grrrr-grumble-fffff-mmm" added the sweet looking base player (whose name I don't know).

I got a little closer to Andrew, stood my ground and called him a bitch at which point we all burst out laughing and they proceeded to sign my CD.

I love these guys.

It seems that we Canadians find them very funny unlike their American countrymen.

Below are their autographs - remember how my little sister called them savages? I told them about that, and they seemed to like it. (picture 1)

Oh, can anyone decipher what the base player was saying to me with those musical notes? (picture 3)

Blue Skies - Hoots and Hellmouth - Part I

2008-08-08T18:06:00.000-07:00

Megan Butcher seems to love giant squids. And when I saw this fella and his squid shirt, I felt that both, the shirt and the cutie, would appeal to her.

His name is Rob, he looks a girl in the eyes when he speaks, he has a fabulous singing voice, plays the Mandolin (now that's a sexy instrument), and shakes hands firmly but with an extra gentle squeeze - Woodsy was smitten! He's part of my new favourite band, Hoots and Hellmouth.

"Hi, can I get a picture of your shirt for a friend of mine? She loves giant squids." I said to him after attending the workshop he participated in on the magic of the trio for songwriting.

"Sure," he responded with a gigantic smile, and without hesitation he posed for me. "But what about the teeth?" He asked... "What about the teeth?" he repeated.

Megan? What about the teeth?

Blue Skies - The Tao of Toes

2008-08-05T17:01:00.001-07:00

I have just spent the last four days at Blue Skies Music Festival - it is the hippest hippie festival imaginable!

Shortly after my arrival, Pandora was suddenly and mysteriously at my side.

"Pandora! What are you doing here?" I asked nervously but excitedly.

"Lovely Woodsy, as you know, I have mastered the dark art of astral projection, which has allowed me to visit Blue Skies this year perfectly coiffed, wearing my most beautiful high-heels despite the mud."

As she leaned over to greet me with a bise, she added, "The only unfortunate aspect of transcending the physical is the way it limits me to air kisses rather than the real thing!"

Pandora's kisses in real life are soft and warm and leave a little tingle of pleasure fluttering on your cheek indefinetly - air kisses simply don't match up. But, even in her ethereal astral state, Pandora is such a delight!

She then asked, "How would you like to interview Blue Skies-ers for the style edition of your blog?"

"That would be fun! Let's do it,"I responded happily.

Today I will report on the toe fashions...

(Give the toes in the pictures a little tickle by hovering over them, and they will provide you with comments!

Loving Welcome - Stranger to Stranger

2008-07-30T18:50:00.000-07:00

A few mornings ago I was walking down James Street, and I noticed a man bending over a person sleeping on the the the walkway leading to the side entrance to the Church of St. Barnabas. I stopped, concerned that the sleeping person might need someone to defend his right to sleep there. I did not need to concern myself.

"Good morning sir. I am sorry to wake you up, but we have people coming to the service in a few minutes and they will need access to this door. You don't have to leave - if you could just move over to the side. You are most welcome to stay."

It is impossible for me to transcribe the gentle kindness and sincerity in the voice that spoke those words. It sent a shiver all through me.

I walked on.

Brillante Award - Part II

2008-07-27T19:59:00.000-07:00

I met Fourth Dwarf for tea at a café on Elgin Street, and told him about being nominated for a Brillante Award by Coyote.

"Do you want me to nominate you for one?"I asked him innocently.

"Do you want me to put salt in your mint tea?" he snapped back.

My ~~seven~~ six nominations are:

Brillante Award - Part I

2008-07-23T19:29:00.000-07:00

Coyote: Hi, Woodsy. I've nominated you for a Brillante Award....

I Stuck my head out of boxes long enough to see that Coyote had nominated me for an award. When he's not eating up all the dark chocolate out of my purse, he's a pretty sweet puppy.

The Burglar

2008-07-07T15:38:00.000-07:00

"Ahh!" I scream in horror, "Erratic Genius, you scared me! Why are you wearing a stocking over your head?"

"I'm pretending I'm a burglar. I figure it will help me pack faster!"

You know, if you look at him from just the right angle, he's almost as cute as Megan's cat in the banana box.

So, yes, the E Genius and I are packing, packing, packing! All that packing has not been conducive to much writing, but soon I will be settled again and posting regularly.

We are leaving our little house in the Woods. It is the beginning of a fabulous adventure - onwards march!

Unfortunately

2008-07-02T06:15:00.000-07:00

"What's your in bed fortune Erratic Genius?" I ask as I crack open my fortune cookie. The cookies are served warm at this restaurant. We can't help but wonder if it is because they are stale.

"Don't say in bed, Woodsy, it's just not funny," responds the Erratic Genius chiding me for my ignorance as he lets out a quiet sigh. "Say, except in bed - try it."

Tricksters at the Ottawa Fringe Festival

2008-06-28T19:06:00.000-07:00

"Coyote, good morning!", I say pleased to see him twice within 12 hours. He is sitting at a local coffee shop with a group of our mutual friends. I notice that he is licking his chops, but I don't have the courage to ask, "So, what have you been nibbling?"

"Well, hello Woodsy," he responds smiling and looking as mischievous as always. "Last time I saw you was last night and we were in a room with a naked guy!" he says for all to hear, and then he howls with laughter, "Ha, Ha, Ha, Ha!".

The lovely Audrey is there, and she responds nervously, "Oh, I don't want to know about this!"

Little hottie, Harmony, agrees with her and tells us firmly, "We don't need to know about this!"

"You will be reading about it soon enough Audrey and Harmony," I say with a conspiratorial wink for Coyote.

It all started when Coyote escorted me to the Fringe Festival Friday night, and we decided to go see Old Growth.

Before the play I had the opportunity to speak briefly with the lead actor, award-winning playwright/composer, Alex Eddington.

"Come see our play, Old Growth," calls out Alex, who is standing outside Academic Hall, inviting the passing crowd with a charming smile." Since I rarely miss an opportunity to speak with a cute lad, I responded to his invitation.

"I am planning to see the play," I tell him. "I traveled to Haida Gwaii years ago and saw the Golden Spruce before it was cut down."

"You were there? You saw it? You are so fortunate. I have not been to Haida Gwaii, but I read the book, The Golden Spruce, and it inspired me to write this play about it. I hope to get there someday," he responds genuinely impressed that I have seen this ancient sacred tree that was felled in 1997.

This is definitely not a feel good play, and if you are not offended by nudity, violence, and honest, intelligent narrative, I highly recommend that you go see Old Growth.

Alex if you read this, thank you for also taking time after the play to chat with Woodsy - apologies for not revealing my true nature!

Bravo!

2008-06-26T10:00:00.000-07:00

I am sitting on the bus next to a lanky youth. His head is covered in soft looking golden blond curls, and he has Angelina Jolie lips. His ethereal sweetness must certainly attract the attention of both, girls and boys.

I hear humming. Could it be my young bus mate? I hear more humming. It sounds angelic. Do I ask him about it? Before I can decide, he points to the outside and calmly says, "Well, it is about time!"

"What?" I say eager to engage in a conversation. "I didn't see what you were pointing at."

"That stretch of road - they have finally paved it."

"Oh, I see - that's great." I say humouring him. I continue by asking, "Were you humming just now?"

"I am sorry. I was. Sometimes I don't even realize it. I am so, sorry." He says, sighing lightly.

His voice is mesmerizing as his velvety lips pronounce every word, every syllable, and every sound clearly and precisely with a gentleness that is enchanting to the ear.

"No, no. It was lovely," I reassure him. "Are you in a band?" I inquire further.

"No, I am studying opera in Toronto," he tells me proudly. "I also volunteer with an opera company... I hope to perform in an Opera next year... I love singing! Sometimes, I am certain that I am singing in my head, and then I realize that people are looking at me, and then I realize that I am singing out loud... Oh, I really hope my singing was not bothering you..."

In the second that he takes to catch his breath, I chime in, "Your singing was not bothersome at all - it was heavenly. I love opera. I also enjoy connecting with people..."

"Oh, that is wonderful!" he interjects. "People should be more free to do and say what makes them happy, and to be more open with each other..." I listen enraptured by his musical voice as he continues.

Miner Wisdom

2008-06-24T18:04:00.000-07:00

My Papa passed away 8 years ago. We did not converse much, and yet he has left me with a heart full of dialog. I am guided daily by the advice and opinions he imparted on me - wisdom which I obstinately chose to ignore or argue while he was alive.

Tonight as I was awkwardly struggling with a drill, a hammer and a hacksaw, bloodying my knuckles, and straining muscles in an attempt to dismantle a broken sofa bed, I remembered a funny moment between us.

I was recently separated, and Papa was over to help me fix things around my new home. As we accomplished task after task (with him doing most of the hard labour and me assisting), I repeatedly and proudly exclaimed, "Ha! Who needs a man - see I can do all this myself!"

Abruptly, Papa grabbed me by the shoulders, held my attention with his calm blue eyes, and said, "Hey, you can ask Maman if you need proof, but I do happen to be a man... and here you are... needing me!"