Kenora 2013: Wasting No Time

Our "lodgings" in Kenora

When we woke up Saturday morning there was no trace of the bad weather that had plagued us over the second half of our drive. It was sunny and cool and we knew that we were going to be fishing before the clock hit double digits. Lana made us a pretty fantastic breakfast which we ate in the sun room overlooking the street, then we made a quick check of the weather and winds (sunny and calm, according to our sources) and bundled our gear into the car. I had been a little worried about getting my camera and lenses wet, so Lana came up with a Ziploc bag large enough to hold everything in it at once and still close properly. I tucked this precious cargo into a sports bag and off we all went to pick up the boat and (for Sarah and me) our fishing licences. At Sunset Baits, where we took care of the paperwork (and, of course, picked up our minnows), I bought a pair of FroggToggs waterproof pants—a steal at $18.99—and changed into them from the non-waterproof sweatpants I had been wearing. If I had known, as I discovered later on, that my baseball jacket was not even water resistant, I'd likely have bought the whole set. Live and learn, I guess. (Trust me: that jacket will be waterproofed by us very, very soon.) Once we were done at the bait shop we made a quick stop at the home of Lana's dad, Sam, to pick up the fishing gear and then we headed down to the Rec Centre parking lot to launch.

Georgia's Baptism: A Plog Post

The proud papa and the gorgeous child

Yesterday we attended the baptism of our niece, Georgia Alexandria, at the Franciscan Church of St. Bonaventure, near Edwards Gardens in Toronto. There is very little point in my trying to explain or even tell the story of the actual ceremony; as an atheist I don't really follow the machinations of any church and, in this particular case, I was concentrating so much on capturing the event on film that I really wasn't paying attention to the words and specific events unfolding in front of me. If you are unfamiliar with the procedure as well, there are myriad places to look on the internet to shed some light for you. I say this with neither rancour nor judgment; rather, I offer it as an apology for the incompleteness of this blog post today, which will consist mainly of pictures. The ceremony was certainly lively—we also attended the baptisms of Georgia's brothers Max and Charlie at the same church—and very important to our extended family; we are always honoured when we are asked to attend these sacraments. Yesterday Georgia was the only infant being baptised, which is very unusual in my rather limited experience. As a result, we had the church to ourselves after the Sunday service was completed which gave me ample opportunity to take photos during the proceedings (flashless, after receiving the permission of the friar performing the ceremony).

Being a Stay-at-Home Dad

Hooray for my Full-Time Dad!

A very good friend of mine is about to embark on a totally awesome part of his life that, when he looks back on it many years from now, he will likely remember as the best thing he ever did. He has just begun a six-month paternity leave and, in just a few short days, will become a full-time stay-at-home Dad when his wife returns to her job. He will be writing a blog about his adventures, entitled Daddy? Are You Awake? and I urge you to check it out (I've also linked to it permanently in the side column of my own blog page). He has not attached his own name to his blog; therefore, I will refrain from doing so here but anyone who knows both of us will easily "crack the code". I envy him these next few months, because I was also my own children's Primary Caregiver when they were very young—albeit slightly older than his two are now—and nothing I have ever done in my life since that time can come close to being as satisfying, productive, wondrous or just plain fun as those brief years were. It's been nearly two decades since I embarked on that journey myself; there are days where it seems like forever ago and others where I swear it was just last week. Before I had kids of my own I never thought of myself as someone who had any kind of connection with the little folk—nor, really, any affinity for them—but all of that changed like a switch being flipped "on" the moment my son was born. Actually, I think it really changed the moment my ex and I found out we were expecting.

Max Turns Five!

Max at full speed

Our nephew, Max, turned five years old on Sunday and his parents (Sarah's brother and his wife) booked a birthday party for him at Active Kids Zone near Dufferin between Finch and Steeles. The party was booked to run from 10 a.m. until noon and the folks in charge of the joint sure packed a lot of fun and great activities into the two hours. Sarah and I arrived just before ten (Sarah's job was to hold Georgia, only nine weeks old, if she was awake; otherwise, to watch over Charlie, Max's younger brother) and actually beat all of the other party guests, which is very unusual for us. I popped back out briefly to replace a coffee that Michelle, Max's Mom, had received in error and I was gone no more than ten minutes; when I got back the place was absolutely full of kids and parents. I think every single other family arrived in those ten minutes!

For the first little while, the kids randomly blew off steam kicking a couple of soccer balls around, then the "coach" organized a game of "Octopus" (a variation of Freeze Tag) with Max as "It". That's what he's playing in the picture above, where he looks more like an airplane than a scary sea monster. Then they played a game of "crazy soccer", which consisted of two teams but also two balls, to really keep the action going:

Samantha's got style

Max is ready for anything

Happy Birthday, Jill!

Jill at 21, having a drink with her old man

My beautiful daughter, Gillian, turned twenty-one today, meaning both of my children are now old enough to be recognized as "adults" no matter where they travel. It's a bit of an odd feeling, let me tell you. Also, this fall marks the first time ever that both of them, Jill and Tim, have been in Post-Secondary schools at the same time. After a couple of years dabbling in Science programs at each of McGill and Waterloo (and a year off working and rethinking her future), Jill surprised all of us last winter by announcing that she wanted to do a complete about-face and return to school in a field of study almost diametrically opposed to what she had been immersed in up to that point; as a result, she applied to (and was accepted by) the Ryerson Theatre School, in the Performance Production stream. She is loving her time there, as clearly evidenced by the joy she demonstrates whenever she discusses her long hours of work which she has already put in, and it clearly was the right choice for her to make. I think she was worried about my reaction when she told me of her plans, though; however, I merely had to think back to my own transition from high school to university and how I was talked out of my first love, entering the Music program at the University of Toronto, by my Dad and my Guidance Counselor, among others. I entered the Applied Math program instead and hated it; as a result, I never finished and have been held back by that failing ever since. The best advice I could give Jill this past January was to do what made her happy, but follow it through to completion this time. This year has really been one of the very few "difficult" times in our lives together, though, and it hasn't been all that "difficult".

Striking a Fine Balance

I've been pretty lax in writing blog posts the past little while. I was afraid this might happen when I finally broke my string of consecutive posting days last weekend while we were camping. On the other hand, it's more likely that the effort of trying to get The Grumpy Penguin website off the ground has left little time for much else, creativity-wise. I still hope to have it (my website) live by August 1, the day the article for which I was interviewed comes out in the Sun. Wish me luck, because I feel like it's going to be a very long day tomorrow.


On top of that this past weekend was a whirlwind. In the first place, both of my kids were with us (a rare treat) and I spent as much time with them as possible. On Saturday, Sarah and I went to the 6th birthday party of a wonderful little girl who was adopted into our extended family from China 5 years ago. (I also forgot to bring my camera so there are no pictures from that event; I really must be getting old or something.) On Sunday we put together a "thank you" dinner for my kids as a reward for all their help in looking after Addie the couple of times we've been away this summer. We managed to squeeze in a game of "Settlers of Catan", which is a terrific board game that Tim got for his birthday. Today the kids and I kind of hung out; I probably should have been working on the website, but I'm not sure when we'll next get to do this and I hate to miss these chances. Tim and I saw the absolutely terrible Hobo with a Shotgun this morning before Jill got up; if you get the chance to watch it might I suggest you just drive a tent peg through your hand instead. You will prefer that, trust me. We spent the afternoon playing on the Wii and watching the Olympics.

Sarah's taking some time off from work starting on Wednesday and we hope to get to the Zoo, the Picasso exhibit at the AGO, maybe Canada's Wonderland: just a bunch of day trips as we think of them. She goes back on the 13th and if she's not relaxed by then I think I'm going to be in a fair bit of trouble.

Apropos of nothing - because I'll never need a reason to post these kinds of pictures - here's another really sweet shot of Addie:

Lying in a current of fresh air, waiting for mommy and dinner

That was taken last Thursday evening as Addie waited for "mommy" to come home. She has been super-cute since we got back from camping and was absolutely in her glory this weekend with a house full of people who love her. Lucky girl.

Well, that's it for now. I was going to write something about RoFo's meeting with Will and Zach today but you know...it really would have been nothing new. Maybe something cool will happen at the Olympics tomorrow because I think they've been kind of dull up to now and you know I'm an Olympic Games junkie. Keeping my fingers crossed.

Missing Kenora

A tile wall mosaic at the Kenora Skate Park

A friend of mine is currently on a solo bike trip from Toronto to Vancouver (and blogging about it); sort of a One Week without the health issues. She's in Saskatchewan right now, but the first part of her trip took her along the same route that Sarah and I follow when we drive to Kenora, a place I like to get to as often as possible. I didn't make it there last year for mainly financial reasons; those reasons persist and I won't be there this summer, either. I was dealing with this pretty well until I started following my friend's blog and seeing the pictures that she took between Toronto and Winnipeg. Now I'm sitting in the stinking heat of a Toronto summer that is suffocating in every possible meaning of the word, wishing with all my heart that I could instead be perched on a dock in Northern Ontario on the incomparable Lake of the Woods, watching the float planes take off and land, feeling the cool, clear air off the water and listening to the loons.

Welcome to the World, Jordan Lofthouse

Sarah, Tim and I just got back from a wonderful visit with a family that are among the best people we know. They had a daughter, Zoe, two and a half years ago after quite a few years of trying and were convinced that was going to be it for them. But, of course, Mother Nature had something entirely different in mind for them (as she often does) and they were blessed with a son this past week, whom they named Jordan. He is a real "Yankee Doodle Dandy", born on the fourth of July in the wee small hours of the morning and boy oh boy is he a cutie. We were very lucky to get to see and hold him so early in his life, only a little over ninety hours after he made his appearance. He's a very calm and collected little guy and we could not be happier for our friends, Alex and Julie Lofthouse. They were kind enough to let me use their names on my blog, but - understandably - preferred not to have any photos put up for public consumption, so here is my rendering of the happy family:

The Lofthouses welcome their newest member!

Sarah helped with the hair. Otherwise, she is completely off the hook for this "sketch".

Julie is taking a few months off with Jordan but after New Year's it will be Alex' turn and I hope he has even 10% as much fun being a stay-at-home Dad as I did. We were lucky enough to meet up with them at the Kiwanis pool last Monday and then have them over for a barbecue and a relaxing evening. Just over twenty-four hours after they left us their son was born. Hopefully Alex, Zoe and I will get back to the pool once or twice while he's off work for the next couple of weeks, too. Zoe, by the way, is completely smitten with her new brother; when we went to visit them tonight she couldn't wait to show us her "baby". She is going to be a terrific big sister.

We've only been home an hour or so and already we miss little Jordan. We're thrilled for our friends and are ready for our next round of babysitting duties, whenever they want to take us up on the offer. In the meantime, I plan on sneaking as much Toronto Maple Leaf paraphernalia into Jordan's room as I can, because his Dad is a die-hard Ottawa Senators fan. I guess it really is true that nobody's perfect!

Congratulations to Julie, Alex and Zoe, and thanks for letting us come and see Jordan so quickly!

Nora's Lists

Nora Ephron, 1941-2012

Two days ago the world lost Nora Ephron due to complications from the leukemia she had been battling for several years. I didn't know a great deal about her other than I enjoyed many of the movies she had written and/or directed over the years, but in scanning the myriad tributes to her over the past two days I have come to realize that she was looked up to and admired by women - and men who name themselves as feminists - the world over. I never gave much thought to the strong female leads of her movies, nor to the fact that she was a rare animal, a "woman director" in Hollywood; in my defence, it simply didn't seem "out of the ordinary" to me, not because I have my head in the sand but because when the social order starts to feel "right" to me I have a tendency to be soothed and not shocked by it. These tributes, appearing on such diverse online sites as The Huffington Post, The New York Times and The Christian Science Monitor (Ms. Ephron was Jewish), are remarkable to read now, as fascinating and insightful as the incredible volume of tweets sent out over the same period of time lamenting her loss. She seems to have been a rather quiet hero, neither shrill nor obvious, just a woman who believed that women had been shortchanged forever and set out to subtly change the way of the world.

Another "Pleasant Valley" Sunday (and Friday and Saturday, too!)

Relaxing on the porch with coffee and the Globe and Mail

Yesterday I wrote about the wonderful Art Fayre in Dunvegan over the weekend; now it's time to tell the story of the rest of our road trip to the Ottawa Valley. It began on Friday morning, around 11AM, when we had finally finished packing and Tim's bag (he cat-sit for us) had been picked up and delivered to our apartment. We fueled up at Timmy's first, then we had to make a stop in Leaside to pick up some fireworks for a Solstice party on Saturday night (at the request of Sarah's mom). We swung back down to our neighbourhood to pick up Tim and drove him up to an interview for Co-op placement for this fall (it went very well) and then we were finally on the open road, headed for the Hawkesbury region. We had more time than we needed so we decided to take a more scenic route than simply Highways 401-416-17 to get there. Part of our scenic route included a jog down to the St. Lawrence along the Thousand Islands Parkway.

If I Hadn't Been a Dad

Grumpy P and the chicks, Father's Day, 2006 at Bluffer's Park

"The first time you hear the word 'Daddy', I don't care who you are, your heart just melts."

I blame Three Men and a Baby.

Tim, brand-new. Nice specs, Dad. Good idea with the sticker, too.

There we were, four twenty-something couples out together for a night at the movies in 1987, no distractions, no worries, just one of so many frequent nights out with friends. We could do that, then; we were only responsible for our own happiness and comfort. But near the end of the movie, Mario Joyner as "the cab driver" delivered that fateful line to the three hapless bachelors in his taxi heading to the airport to bring back the little girl they had been raising since her mom dropped her on their doorstep many months earlier. And in that instant, I knew life had changed forever for each and every man in our little group. I stole a glance down our row and saw three other Adam's apples bobbing up and down as quickly as my own as we each pretended that the scene had had no effect on us whatsoever. But the jig was up.

Happy Father's Day!

Grumpy P and Pop, 1965

Yesterday I mentioned that I had a "terrific post planned" for today; I finished it a few minutes ago but I noticed that: a) it said absolutely nothing about my Dad in it; and b) tomorrow is a full day with scant free time to write another blog piece. So I shelved that post until tomorrow and will use today's space to talk a little bit about my Dad and Father's Day. Here is my Dad at 30, horsing around with me (aged 4) at a campground somewhere (my best guess would be Silver Lake Provincial Park near Perth, ON), looking slim and active and impossibly young. We camped a lot when I was a child, first in a heavy, dank old canvas tent which I loved and later (when my Mom got her way) in a pop-up soft-top tent trailer. When we weren't camping we were at my grandparents' cottage in the Laurentians; renting a house for two weeks (or longer) in Old Orchard Beach, ME; taking a month-long cross-country trip to Vancouver Island and back across the northern States; or driving down to Orlando to visit Walt Disney World. We traveled a lot back then and I loved every minute of it. I never got bored on those trips, which I think pleased my Dad no end, no matter how mundane the attraction that we had to stop the car at and visit.

Woozy Weekend

Vertigo!

Click on the picture for cool facts about vertigo!

Late yesterday afternoon I suddenly developed a wicked case of vertigo, pretty much out of nowhere. I figured it was something simple such as pinching a blood vessel in my neck or perhaps just not enough sleep, but then last night my joints were sore as well. I went to bed hoping everything would take care of itself, but really only 50% of it did. My joints don't hurt today but the vertigo is still there and now it's accompanied by a left eye that simply won't stop running. I'm guessing now that it's some kind of a cold virus or perhaps low-grade infection in either my ear canal or (more likely) Eustachian tube on the left side of my head. Since there's no pain involved I'm going to wait on this for a day or so to see if it goes away on its own; I'm loathe to take up a doctor's time unless I think it could be really serious.

A "Cat Got My Tongue" Kind of Day

Cat on a tray, anyone?

Well, not literally...but she could if she wanted to, because she has me smitten. This morning Sarah brought coffees and some finger pastries up to the computer room for us to enjoy. Addie was very interested in the pastries; for some reason, she goes crazy for sweet foods. We gave her a very tiny amount and this seemed to make her crash on the floor for a while. When we were done with our nosh, Sarah put the tray on the day bed so we'd remember to bring it downstairs. Next thing we knew, Addie had roused herself, climbed up onto the tray, licked the remaining few crumbs off it, and then crashed once more right where she was sitting. It's not in the same league as Emily sitting in a pot (from Knatolee's World) but it's the best I have to offer today. Well, for now, at least. You never know where Addie's going to turn up next.

For All My "Mothers"

This is a picture of my mother and me when I was nearly 2 1/2 years old. I have no idea where it was taken; if I had to guess I would say it was at my grandparents' (on my dad's side) cottage near St. Jovite in the Laurentians. I can just make out a figure in a black coat and fedora behind us who is probably one of my grandfathers. I don't remember this wall from my days at the cottage but I suppose it could have been demolished before my memories took hold. It's all conjecture, though; the simple truth is I'll likely never know because I am no longer in contact with my mom.

Music of my Life

December, 1961. My first Christmas. My parents wanted to send out a "photo card" to all their friends and relatives with their new bundle of joy figuring prominently. But there was a hitch: the best my dad could coax out of me was a sort of wry smile....until he hit upon the brilliant idea of plopping me on the carpet in front of his Heathkit (with Wharfedale speakers) and putting some tunes on. Like magic: I start grinning and babbling like a little maniac, resulting in the incredibly minimalistic picture you see here. Frozen in that moment in time, the expression of unbridled joy on my face makes it impossible to overstate the impact music was to have on my life from my very first years. It's the passion that drives me, it's my life's blood and it's never too far away at any given moment.


This week a friend asked me to take part in a survey he was doing on his blog; he wanted people to list their 10 favourite songs of all time. Now, I have owned (and, for the most part, still own) literally thousands of albums in my life on vinyl, CD or cassette. I have a few hundred 45 RPM singles in my collection, too. Add to that the many songs I have purchased on iTunes or...ahem...not purchased through other electronic methods and I think you see my dilemma. It's a lot like asking someone to name the favourite of all of his or her children, or the best 10 breaths he or she has ever drawn. But I promised I would give it a try and it took up a good chunk of my evening last night. Because I spent so much time on it - and because I honestly have nothing else to write about today that doesn't revolve around the Ford brothers (yeesh) - I figured I would make the work do "double duty" and post my choices here on my blog as well.

A Relaxing Weekend

For the first time in quite a while Sarah and I have a weekend "free" so we're going to kind of "go with the flow" and "see what happens" so I can "post about it" tomorrow with even more "unnecessary quotation marks". Last night we went out with her brother, Brian, for some late-evening nosh and pints. There was a rep there from Carling who are doing a promotion in conjunction with the UEFA championships being held this year jointly in Poland and the Ukraine. The grand prize is a trip to Poland which can be entered via their Facebook page. We received PINs to enter this contest at the bar last night but you can get them sent to you from the FB site as well. But what you can't get from that site is the free beer that Sarah, Brian and I were given last night. That's my favourite flavour of beer: free.

We also were given these funky hats that make you look like you have "troll hair":

I rubbed Sarah's Trolly head for good luck and it worked! I didn't get any more free beer but I did get to go home with the best-looking and smartest gal in the whole place. Oh, don't groan. You'd have said the same thing in my position. Yes, you would have. Don't even pretend.

The Role of Family

I am going to get a little personal here today and as I begin this post even I have no real concept of where it will end up. I guess we'll have to see when we get there.

I posted a link on my Facebook page this past Sunday to a very short video of an Easter basket which I gave to my partner a couple of years ago. (I posted the same link on Sunday's post on this blog if you wish to check it out.) The basket is a lamb which says "Happy Easter! Baaaa... Baaaa..." when you press on its front hoof. As a salutation with that video, I posted...well, I posted exactly what the "lamb" says in the video. Well, my goodness - you'd think I had completely tarnished the entire 2000-year history of Christianity to read the comments from one of my family members.

Happy Non-Secular Chocolate Bunny Day

What do you get when you pour boiling water down a rabbit hole?

Original bunnies can be found at Bella Sofran's Deviant Art gallery

Hot Cross Bunnies.

(Well, somebody had to do it....and Gary Dunford is long retired.)

Whether you celebrate Easter, Passover, Spring Fever, Painted Unfertilized Chicken Embryo Day or absolutely nothing at all, have a great long (if you got Friday off) weekend.

Whew. Those were a lot of conditional statements.