Danica's First Post

There was a funny incident at the kids' house over the weekend. I told Danica, if she wrote about it, I would publish it on my blog. She wrote what is below all on her own. She will be going into grade three in September.

======================

THE STORY OF THE CAT AND THE ALIVE CHIPMUNK

Written by John's Granddaughter Danica

So, it all started off on a bright, sunny day in August. We had three people over, Callum, Brenna, and their mom, Erin. Erin came out of the bathroom and said: "Uh there's a situation with your cat." Our cat Abby was carrying not a toy, BUT AN ALIVE CHIPMUNK! In the room was my dad: Trying to knock out the chipmunk. The Chipmunk: Speeding around my dad's room. And lastly, Abby: Chasing the chipmunk. The chipmunk and Abby bumped into each other. And Abby then acted like, Eh you go get it dad. I don't care. So, Erin, Callum and Brenna left. Abby is now out of the room. Me, JJ, and my dad teamed up. After a few minutes of directing directions, and trying to catch and knock the chipmunk out, JJ caught it with a green bucket. Then, when we got on the floor wondering what to do with it. We heard a weird noise. It was the chipmunk trying to make a hole to get out! Then, my dad said, "Can you put some pressure on this?'' (That wasn't all he said. But what ever.) Then, I said ''What kind of pressure?'' My dad said ''Put your hands on it". After one to two mins., my brother had to go to the washroom. So it was only me. A little bit later, my dad and brother came in with a piece of card board. We put it under the bucket. My dad opened his window and put the screen out and put it on his bed. He dumped the chipmunk out of the window on to our grass in our backyard. Then we celebrated our team work.

THE END!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

========================

Summer Camp Days 3 and 4

We made it to the library. JJ sat and read this book to me, with just a little help on the new, big words. I was surprised and pleased by how well he did. I thinks he's ready for grade one.

Still on the library grounds. JJ always likes to play on the big guns. He's always interested in the little details.

Looking down the barrel.

Meanwhile ... Danica did a little performing on the ledge by the library.

The dismount.

Danica confiscated my camera, and took a few pictures, including this and the next two.

A Danica pic of the cenotaph and the church across the street.

The back of my bald head and Sue's dyed head.

Then Sue commandeered the camera and took this photo. I do love this kid.

Next day at the chip truck, she is using my ancient Digital Rebel (from 2004, I think). I got it out for her and also Sue who is preferring it to iPads and compact cameras at the moment. I need to keep it light for both of them, so the original kit lens is attached even though there are better ones that I could give them.

Danica shot this. I think she might have a good eye, framing the house like that.

After the chip truck, we went to Dairy Queen for dessert. I suppose it is plain to all now that we are not exactly health food fanatics. Sorry to say.

Next week, we have two more days in town with them. Then we'll take them to the cottage where we will meet up with extended family.

Meanwhile, Sue has resumed blogging, and it is pretty well all about the kids. Hopefully, our posts won't overlap too much for those who read both. I am trying to post in a such a way as to avoid too much overlap. But I really shouldn't worry about it, I suppose.

Amma's and Buppa's Summer Camp: Day 1 and 2

Amma and Buppa's summer camp — the 2015 version — has begun. Except Buppa is not feeling too great this week, so it has not been as exciting as some previous summer camps. Nevertheless, we have managed to have a bit of fun with the kiddies.

Danica is being very girly girl and loving shopping. She is old enough to have a bit of her own money, which pretty well burns a hole in her little purse.

We have managed to get to the park a few times, where we tried a little bit of kite flying.

However, the wind never lasted very long, and I look a little peeved rewinding the string one more time.

Maybe I'll blow some bubbles instead.

JJ loves to climb, which greatly impressed some of the younger kids. He was the big boy hero, and I think it shocked him greatly when he drew a crowd of admiring youngsters.

Since we have an election looming, I had a little tutorial with Danica, explaining political parties, ridings, candidates and how prime ministers are determined. I was really pleased with how this 8-year-old listened, asked pertinent questions, absorbed and understood the information, and then explained it very well in her own way.

By the end of day 2, I was fading fast, but managed to play a little street hockey with the boy before an almost total collapse. How Canadian. Eh? The game, I mean: not the collapse. :)

Bridge Street Bazaar

I didn't take too many pictures at the Bridge Street Bazaar last Saturday. There was much light and shadow which cameras don't like too much, but I did take a few. plus it was crowded and a bit overwhelming.

Sue met a friend. In fact, she met several, but this is the only photo that I am posting.

This guy was preoccupied with his drums.

Tattoo Queen

This was the first photo that I processed. He was under a red tent, and there was such a
colour shift that I decided to go black and white. As you can see from the rest of the photos,
I continued with the theme.

Living in the shadow cast by the American giant next door to us, I had certainly heard of the American Sniper although I have no interest in seeing the film. I didn't know we had a Canadian Sniper, but this display proved otherwise.

Jody Mitic lost both of his legs in Afghanistan but became something of a celebrity when he came close to winning Amazing Race Canada. Having never watched Amazing Race from anywhere, I was unfamiliar with Mr Mitic.

I have since discovered that he stood for municipal election in Ottawa last autumn and won his ward. He has written his memoirs to be soon published, apparently with the framed picture being the cover.

For more information go to the following links, particularly the newspaper article.

• Newspaper Article
• Wikipedia
• Pre-order book from Amazon Canada
• Pre-order bool from amazon.com

Rural Roads

I have to wonder how one can seem to go to bed healthy and wake up with Shingles, but that happened to me last week. With my doctor being off, I got to the ER on day 2, had some expensive medicine prescribed, and am not too badly off as a result.

And although I've still been getting some decent sleep, by about 5 I am getting a tad uncomfortable, and so I have taken myself out and about. These are some photos from my second early morning of the week. I drove around some of the nearby rural roads (you get out of town and into country quickly around here) and was treated to a thin layer of fog not too high off the ground.

This ↑ was not my favourite photo when I first downloaded them, but after awhile it grew on me and might be my favourite now because of the natural frame plus the really bright patch of fog. However, the next two photos ↓ show the fog layer (or layers in the second) better.

Since some of you folk are pretty taken with fences (and who doesn't like a nice fence?), following are two photos showing the split rail fences that are fairly common around here.

The first photo also shows a common type of local, rural architecture. I have seen any number of houses in that style. Of course, I am talking about the original, front half of the house. This one has a large modern addition.

One treat of the morning was finding this horse reclining and catching a little bit of backlight. It's hardly a winner in that bare ground, but at least he gave me his attention.

The Kids Visit the Cemetery

We left Sarnia for the Ottawa Valley 10 years ago, so my parents grave had not been visited for a long time. Shauna took the kids back to Sarnia for a little vacation time last week, and Danica, being the sweetheart that she is, wanted to visit the grave site, and so they did.

It's a pleasant site, and I am pleased to see it again and pleased to know that Danica wanted to visit ... and JJ and Mom too of course, but I understand that Danica was the primary driver on this occasion.

I wrote a post all those years ago after my last visit, a few days before we departed for this area, way across province. I titled it, They Were Enough.

We are entering the final countdown before Monday's big move. Fortunately, we have lately been treated to a number of farewell dinners, rather a good thing considering the dearth of edibles in the fridge and our incredible disinclination of having anything that might be considered remotely intimate to do with the stove. I had put a visit to the cemetery on my mental todo list and finally got around to paying my respects this morning.

I'm have not been an avid visitor of cemeteries since I deem that nobody is really there. In fact, my dad's remains have rested there for six and a half years, and I have not really visited. I did take mum there for a quick visit once so that she could reassure herself that those responsible had dutifully added the year of dad's death on the flat and tasteful headstone. She was not a terribly trusting soul, my mother wasn't. Me? I am perhaps too trusting, too willing to assume that all will work out. It turns out, of course, that it usually does, so I was not surprised to find that mum's death date had been duly added, probably two years ago, shortly after she died.

Although I have confessed to not being an avid visitor, I must now admit to spending a very pleasant time at the graveside today. It was a wonderful summer morning; gentle cooling breezes caressed me in the shade. I sat on the grass and let my mind wander. Preferring to enjoy the quietude, I didn't try too very hard to stir up memories but let my mind wander wherever it would.

Memories that did pass across my mind were just that, memories from a long time ago: mostly from over forty years ago when I was young and my parents were much younger than I am now. I remembered walking with the folks one day and my mother bemoaning the fact that she was about to turn forty. Dad reminded her of the old saw that life begins at forty. I also remembered my mum and I once laughing hysterically at my hearing-impaired father when he responded incredulously to some comment or other that he has misheard: "You want me to weed the carpet?" Why this next memory came unbidden to my mind I don't know, but for a while we went to a very small church that was short on talent. My mother once tried to sing a solo, and her voice cracked on the high notes, but she did okay. And I remembered dad preaching a sermon from Philemon when the pastor was on holidays, and I had been proud to realize that he was quite a good preacher.

Then I thought how the wheel of time ever turns. About twenty years ago mom and dad moved here to be nearer family in their declining years. Now, I am the one moving to be nearer my kids. I am not going there to die but to live, but, of course, death comes ever closer, and one can't help but think about it. I don't think it's gruesome or macabre to ponder my death; it's just the wheel turning, always grinding relentlessly onward.

I sat there on the ground in the shade of the trees for quite some time. It was pleasant, so pleasant that I wondered about changing my own plans. I have thought to have a tree planted over my remains in some unmarked spot, but now I wonder. Perhaps I should give my kids the opportunity of visiting such a peaceful spot, a place where they can think and, perhaps, remember. We are not there, where we are buried, but it marks a spot where there is nothing for the visitor to do but rest and remember, and that is not such a bad thing. But in the end, I'll probably still opt for for an isolated unmarked site and ask for tree to be planted over me. It pleases me to think that some of my remains might be absorbed into a mighty oak or a shady maple or a staunch jack pine.

Soon enough, it was time to leave, time to say goodbye, a sort of goodbye anyway although my memories go with me and will endure for as long as I endure. Someday, that's all I shall be, a shadow in someone else's memories, and then those memories too shall fade, and I shall finally fade with them. Perhaps that is as immortal as we shall ever be. I couldn't help but think that today, that this one brief and flickering candle that we call life is all that we have to live and that we might as well live it fully, whatever that means to each person. I am not dogmatic about this, and I am not being theological in this respect; it was simply an impression that I had.

Soon, too soon, the best part of an hour had flown by, and it was time to depart. I patted the headstone and spoke out loud. I told mum and dad or the ground or the air around them that they had done a fine job, that they had done their best and that their best was enough.

That's not so bad is it: to do your best and for you best to be enough?

An Accidental Blue Moon

With this photo, I join the throngs posting Blue Moon photos, except I didn't mean to. Really.

When I went out early that morning, it was with the hope of catching a sunrise. Well then it was just as well that I serendipitously espied the blue moon between the trees, next to this barn off the Beckwith Trail because the sunrise, or what I saw of it from my vantage point, was not zackly to die for. This ↓ was about my best shot, and well, it's okay ... barely ... (These kinds of photos always seem to show up darker here on blogger. I should maybe see if I could adjust for that.)

Anyway, here are some things that I have learned about blue moons.

1. The expression was first used the way we usually use it now: to note that an event is extremely rare. It wasn't an astrological thang.
2. It then got some sort of complicated designation which nobody understood.
3. To some, it is probably still technically when a fourth full moon occurs in a three month period.
4. However, to the great unwashed masses such as mine own self, it had come to refer to a second full month within one calendar month.

I muse that I shall never again see a blue moon where I saw this one, for there are only 7 in 19 years, and the chances that I would walk by this location, camera in hand, when the moon happens to be in that exact location, are extremely remote.

I did take a few other shots that morning, which I like better than the one above.

I squeezed the aperture to get the burst effect ↑. I don't love it, but it's fun to get that effect every now and then.

I caught some backlight on grasses ↓. Backlight is great for portraits and flowers etc.

Meanwhile, here is a short video about blue moons from people who know what they are talking about — as opposed to this lowly and humble blogger. Sorry that I can't embed it, but the smart people who made the video are being not-so-smart about letting others embed it.

http://www.theweathernetwork.com/news/articles/hope-you-didnt-miss-it-blue-moon-shines-in-these-photos/55130/