Find'em, Drill'em, Fill'em, Bill'em

Back in the not-so-kinder, but definitely younger days when I was married to a student dentist,  this (see title) was the Toothy Tune that the soon to be drillers, fillers and billers would hum.  At the time, it seemed harmless, silly and, well, yes, thoughtless. But like, who cared, eh?

Then along came the Karma concept, and all was revealed. You should be nicer, and maybe give a little bit. No, not the large burr, it's too expensive, but the little bit- because, like,  if you were not nice, then FATE would come along and bite you in the ass. And Harry Chrishna to ya too! It was definitely don't see, don't tell and inhale if you want, but keep it to yourself  time.

Then real life got in the way.

Three decades, two divorces, and kids later, and whaddya know?

It's find'em, drill'em, fill'em and bill'em time...all over again,  and with a cosmic, karmic twist...

And to the victims, go the oils.

What. Have. We. Done?

These pictures were taken two months ago, on the then clean beach in the Gulf of Mexico.

Make a wish...

At the time, we were busy complaining about the unseasonably cold weather.

while the gulls and terns flocked together for warmth and protection.

I wonder what they're doing now?

The Farmer in the Dell

And in the spring, a young man's fancy turns to dust, and dirt, and the urge to plant seeds so he can then reap what he sows at a later date. It's a hard, thankless task pretty much, and threatening to become a lost art as North American farming and food production becomes ruled by large corporations, and the disconnect between what the employee (aka farmer) is told to plant,

and what is right for the land grows ever larger.

The ubiquitous corn crop - a curse, not a cure.

So, today is an ode to the farm, the farmer, and his field of dreams.

This is what milk looks like before it's packaged into cartons and jugs and bags. These are jersey cows, prized for their rich milk and the dairy products like cheese that are made from it.

Here's a AAA Black Angus steak on the hoof.

Really raw hamburger looks like this...

This is what a scrambled egg looks like, before it hits the pan. It is also what your chicken wings look like before they hit McDonalds.

And seriously? There's really only one question to ask here...

WHY?

Hi ho the dairio, the farmer's in the dell!

Canadian singer/songwriter Murray McLaughlin's The Farmer's Song

is an eloquent tribute to farmers...enjoy!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a1eoOI6gi24

Just Another Manic Monday.

I was late getting to work this morning. I left with plenty of time to pick up a Tim Horton's coffee, and have a leisurely drive to put the day, and the week, into perspective. I headed out the driveway, admiring the bright yellow daffodils that look so perky and cheerful, and feeling pretty proud of myself for actually remembering to plant them last fall!

As I came to the first bend in our driveway, I also noticed a bunch of little pinecones sitting straight up on the edge of the road? That's weird - so of course, I pulled over for a closer look, and Eureka!! Not pinecones at all, but a whole little herd of morels! We have spent many hours to little or no avail, combing the meadows of our area looking for what is  thought (by many gourmands) to be the best edible mushroom that grows wild in eastern Ontario and western Quebec.  And here!! Right here in my own backyard, there's a flock of them!

 

They're pretty easily identified. They look like little conehead brains and are hollow on the inside.

There are blonde, brown, and grey versions (just like my own personal hair stages). It's antithesis, the False Morel  is poisonous, doesn't have a fully attached cap, is black and slimy, and has white frothy stuff inside the stem. Everything about the False Morel says, "don't eat me".

I was pretty excited and called John to come with a bag and help pick them - which he did. So, guess what's for dinner tonight?  It made for a memorable morning. 

And it made me late.  Thus, when I pulled into the parking lot of the arena where my office is located,

I had completely forgotten that we have visitors in town today.

Not everyday an elephant takes my parking space - but she's 38 years old, and gentle, and she can have it for as long as she wants. She is sharing it with a few of her friends too.

Awww. They're very cute, and while I don't generally advocate for live animal circuses, I do know that these animals are well cared for and loved by their trainers and keepers. Our Animal By Law Enforcement Officer checks to make sure they are being properly tended - as does every other ABEO in Canada, wherever the Circus visits.

The big questions, of course, always revolve around the poop - as in "Who's going to scoop the poop?" and "What do you do with elephant poop, or pony poop?"   and  "Can I purchase the poop?", and of course that favourite question that inquisitive minds just need to know, "How big is  elephant poop?"

Imagine! All this, and it's not even noon yet.

Fair Day and No Fare for the Ferry

This little ferry that we're on crosses from Plaisance, Quebec to Hawkesbury, Ontario. It can hold about six cars, but on this trip, there were just two, plus four motorcycles who were making the interprovincial crossing of the Ottawa River. Once on board, the song "Ferry Cross the Mersey" came immediately to mind, and hasn't left yet! Perhaps by writing it I will finally expunge it!

The day trip that we took last Sunday was appropos of nothing other than the need to see something different than the usual places we tend to visit. So with no direction other than east in mind, we headed along the Quebec side of the Ottawa River. Once past Ottawa it became less familiar and therefore, more interesting as we visited small towns and villages that we established 150 years ago to help manage all the logs that were being cut and sent to sawmills along the river. Of course, the first building to receive more than the old loggers (and our) cursory attention was the church.

The exterior of this lovely old Catholic church in Papineauville could use a little TLC, but

my guess is that paint isn't high on the Brothers' priority list these days.

The interior of the church was soft and lovely.

Not to mention rather high and mighty.

We love to visit these old churches found throughout eastern Canada. Most are spectacular architectural statements  and a testament to the power and strength of the Church  in Canada during the mid to late 1800's, as well as the early to mid 1900's.

That's definitely changed.

Our Sunday drive took us past many small little cheese shops, where we purchased several different types of soft, unripened artisanal cheese, a lovely mustard~maple vinaigrette, a gorgeous loaf of gruyere and basil bread and some micro brewery lager beer.

So then of course, we needed to stop for a  wee rest break at a small municipal park.

In Quebec it should be noted that the women are revered, and treated to the best of everything.

Including outhouses.

The men, however, are expected to tough it up, and to be manly men.

And if they stop to use this facility, perhaps they should also bring a pee shooter.

This is one use for a funnel I have never seen before!

The contrast between Church and State is sometimes described as a hit and a miss.

for other interesting scenes visit http://skyley.blogspot.com/

Question for Sarah Palin: How's that Oily Drilly Thing Workin' For Ya Now?

A few months ago, Sarah Palin  posed a question to the people who didn't support her views on anything, by asking, "So how's that hopey changey thing workin' fer ya now?" She supports  many things that many Canadians don't.  While recognizing that our southern neighbours have substantially more investment  and say in all things global,  I still think it's okay to say, "It's now right back atcha, Sarah," and I just have to ask,  "How's your oily, drilly thing workin' fer ya now, honey?"

                                             Since the explosion of the British Petroleum oil rig in the Gulf of Mexico, off the shoreline of Louisiana, I have had trouble sleeping. I hear about  all of the plausible scenarios that may, and probably will, take place; I see pictures of dead sea turtles - with headlines over their bodies like, " Scientists explore if there's a link between the number of washed up sea turtles and the recent oil rig explosion." One has to wonder if these are scientists who may, or may not, be smarter than a  fifth grader.    I was raised with a few basic assumptions in life. The sun rises. The sun sets. The seasons come. The seasons go. The tide comes in. The tide goes out. Humans share the earth will all kinds of species...we are just one of many. Because we have opposable thumbs that can do tricks, we think we're the winners of the Who's on Top game called Life As We Know It.

The operative word here is "think". And for several decades now, there doesn't seem to be a whole lot of that going on, unless of course the motivation is money, driven by greed, and consumed by power.              
Well - here's the thing. I think that it's time to stop drilling for oil in environmentally sensitive areas. I think that it's time to rethink the North American obsession with the car.  We can no longer afford Henry Ford's dream - which has become the cause of our current nightmare. I think that for every dollar spent on cleaning up this devastating mess, there should be a dollar spent on research and development of sustainable energy, sustainable development,  sustainable governance models.         

I never thought as a teenager, young adult,  or parent about any of the above - I trusted that common sense would prevail, and that all would be all right. Well, sucks to be me, because all is not all right!  I trusted, and I assumed that the duly elected representatives would make sure that all was right with the world. Hah!

Well, as the saying goes, "Fool  me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me." And it won't be right with the world until you, you, and you decide that this current environmental disaster (and many others around this little green planet, third from the sun) is OUR  collective problem.           

I think that haranguing politicians and their ilk is not the answer. Although, letting them know what you think is definitely something that needs to be done. Ask questions, and show them what you think of their answers.  That's also called voting.

There are also literally hundreds of clubs, groups, organizations  - Green Peace, Sierra Club, Nature Canada, World Wildlife Fund, Audubon Society to name just a few who do great work...you choose who best speaks for you. Support them however you can. Just do it.

Get off the couch of complacency, and tell the world what you think.

I never thought that I would. But I just did.

Printemps, Poutine and Le Pont Rouge

We live on the Quebec side of the Ottawa River, where the national dish is poutine. Poutine is an ungodly mixture of french fries, topped with cheese curds and smothered in gravy. And it is delicious! I know! I know! Sounds disgusting, but trust me on this...it's the perfect food for a Sunday afternoon drive, sitting at a picnic table with a checkered table cloth, and looking at all things springy.

This aptly named little Chipping Sparrow was right above my head, watching me closely, and calculating how long it would take to dip and dive and return with a chip for him. Forget it! I'm not sharing today!

The picnic table was just outside the chip truck - a converted school bus that's now a fully functioning kitchen on wheels. Only this one had a lovely plastic porch attached so it wasn't actually mobile anymore - not that anyone was asking for their vendor's permit - we were all too busy eating poutine and enjoying the spectacular view...

This beautiful covered bridge sits over the Ottawa River, and enables traffic from the mainland to Calumet Island.

It is the largest covered bridge in Quebec. Built in 1898 it spans 497 feet, for single lane traffic  only.

Fortunately, you can see clearly if anyone else is on the bridge before you commit yourself to its wooden roadway.

Leaves everyone feeling very chipper once they've made the  passage safely. And landed right in front of the chip truck and then it's time for some celebratory poutine!

French lesson for the day:

Printemps = springtime

Le Pont Rouge = The Red Bridge

Poutine = french fries with curds and gravy

Enjoy more scenery at http://skyley.blogspot.com/

Fiddleheads

The Ottawa Valley, and especially Pembroke, is renowned for its fiddlers and step dancers. There's a huge annual Old Time Fiddling and Step Dancing Competition held every Labour Day Weekend that attracts musicians and dancers from all over North America to our little city to raise a little hell and have fun while they're at it. People gather at Fiddle Park, and well over 2000 RV's are filled with lovers of  a waltz, a jig and a reel. Anything fiddle goes. But what you won't be able to find is a fiddle head. Because that 's a spring thing, and it's here right now.

If ever you want to know what spring tastes like, this is it. It's fresh, it's green with a slightly bitter after taste, and it goes exceptionally well with butter.

While there are hundreds of different kinds of ferns that grow throughout the woods of eastern Ontario, there is only one fiddlehead, and at maturity it looks like this...

They grow to about 2 feet high, they like damp, shady areas, and you often see them as transplants -up against a house foundation -don't eat those ones though, the homeowners might get a little testy if you're caught lurking around the back porch. If they're this size, you're too late...

You need to pluck them when they're just up out of the ground, still tightly furled,

just like the head of a fiddle.

Rinse them really well to get rid of the brown papery covering, in fact, I rinse them and then par boil really quickly -no more than 2 minutes. Discard that water, then toss into a pan, cover with a bit of salted water, bring to a boil for about 3 minutes (same time  as you would give asparagus) so that they're still slightly crunchy. Serve hot with butter, salt and pepper to taste - and it's music time for your mouth while your taste buds do the two step! And the very best part?? It's free food -  and it can be yours for the picking.

Bon Appetit!

Risky Business.

.

Today was so gorgeous that after my rivetting meeting on Risk Management,  

I decided to throw caution to the wind, and take the back roads home. The meeting was in Arnprior, a lovely little town about an hour's drive away and between here and there are many, many beautiful back roads less travelled.
So, off I went!
Almost immediately, it became apparent that I needed to mitigate the risk a tad, and start pulling over when something caught my eye  (instead of slowing down to a crawl with my head out of the window).

I've noticed that weaving all over the road is a fairly common  problem on these  nature appreciation expeditions, and I think it could be easily solved by a little neon bumper sticker that says,

 "Caution: Birder on Board. This vehicle makes sudden stops and swerves. So you may want to take a different route."

What caught my eye in this particular case of weaving down the road was a splash of bright yellow. Closer examination revealed the first wildflowers

I'd seen in several months!

 Trout Lilies were everywhere along the roadway, and right

beside them bobbed Blood Root and Downy Yellow Violets...

These beautiful harbingers of spring were everywhere, and so of course I turned off the ignition, and wobbled up the and down the ditch on either side of the road. "Wobbled?", you say. "Yes," says I, because in my haste to manage my self into the car this morning, I quickly threw in the camera and binoculars for the you never knows, and forgot to slip in a pair of ditch walking shoes.

As I was climbing up to the Blood Root, it dawned on me that I was rather nattily shod for smelling the ditch. The farmer who may have to pick me up after I roll down it might like the shiny patent 4" heels, but it's far more likely

that he'll consider me a complete  idiot!

Ah well. All that worry for naught...as in nothing happened. I made it back home and discovered in my own driveway that the Hepatica

had also blossomed overnight.

And I found some Red Trilliums!

This trip was not without its little challenges, and risks that needed to be managed.  But I think an adrenalin rush every now and again is necessary - it wakes us up and makes us appreciate the world around us!

I took a chance making a u-turn on a bit of a hill (just a little one) so that I could get  a closer look at this exquisitely dressed little fellow, singing his heart out and inviting all others to take a chance on him. I'm glad I did!

Sign here.Please. Thank You.

Today I went searching for a specific photo of a beautiful painted Kashub barn in Wilno, Ontario because I had taken it, and thought it would be appropriate to do a blog on the first  Polish settlement in Canada, given the recent tragic death of Poland's president.
I couldn't find that particular file. Not on this netbook, not on the laptop, and definitely not on the antiquated monster that lurks downstairs! God only knows what part of the universe that file now inhabits and He's not telling.
So, I'm sorry and I do extend my sincere condolances to any Polish readers. I will take another trip to Wilno and take some more pictures and share them soon.
BUT! In my search, I did come across a file called Signage. And so I will share some of its contents with you, gentle reader.
We Canadians have earned our reputation for being polite and rather retiring. Perhaps it's the United Empire Loyalist legacy, or the cultural mosaic model of the 60's Trudeau era.(Place for everyone, everyone in his place). Whatever the reason, we really do say "Sorry!" when someone bumps into us, causing us to trip and fall. We apologize when we disagree, as in, " I'm sorry, Mr. Bell Telephone, but I really don't think my bill should be $3 trillion dollars, because I've been very ill, and my phone has been turned off this past month. Would it be possible, pretty please, for you, or someone to check on that and let me know sometime? Of course, I'll pay the bill, but if you would just, well, look into it, that would be really nice!"

"What's that? It's not Bell's fault? Oh. Oh. Well then. Ok, sorry to bother you! And, uh, please, yes, do put me on the I Accept Telemarketing Calls list! "
As a nation, we could use a course in assertiveness training.
Which is why, when these signs were noticed on a recent trip south, I truly found them shocking!! I've travelled many times to the States, and I'm a huge fan, but this was the first time I became aware of some of the signs, and
the guts, the gall, the oh gawd of these signs...

The American constitution guarantees the right to bear arms. The Canadian constitution guarantees the right to peace and good government. 

That's a significant difference in upbringing methinks.

When I first saw this sign, I thought it was a college student, jokey sign...for about 30 seconds, and then I realized it wasn't a joke at all!

Holy Gunsmoke, Roy! Take your finger offa Trigger! 

Not long after this shot (sic) was taken, we were in a grocery store and the man in the cashier's line ahead of me had a gun -in a holster, on a belt.

That was an absolute first for me, outside of the movies.

I was stunned, and started giggling, because it felt  so scary. That "Oh My God, I don't know what to do, I'm so out of my league, I can't  do anything but laugh", laugh. Perhaps some of you are used to scenes like this.

I definitely am not.

The next sign isn't as frightening...quite...

It's politely asking the reader to keep his or her clothes on, refrain from having sex in public, and for goodness sake, don't swear. Alrighty then. I don't plan to do any of those things today, in front of this sign...but I do have to wonder just what rabbit hole have I fallen down??

Oh. Sorry.

 Are there like, a lot of people who like, swear  a lot?

Naked, under this sign? In front of the hotel? 

You know, I swear quite a lot. I know, I know, potty mouths are not that nice, and women of a certain age definitely shouldn't let loose with the 'F' bomb!

Sorry! Sorry!

But I do, on occaision, swear when I'm pissed off about something! 

This sign, more than the no gun sign, scared me into

re-thinking the day's plans...

Ticks have not yet made their way north to our region of eastern Ontario in any significant numbers. But I do know that Lyme's Disease is terrible..and I don't want to turn a leisurely stroll through the woods into a catastrophic event...like getting shot by a crazy guy with a gun

who didn't read the first sign!

Oh. Sorry.

Getting a little carried away here! As a matter of fact, if I had a horse, I would get carried away from the tick zone, and I'd park myself here...

This is what I love, love, LOVE about travelling in general and the States in particular! It's the complete about-turn, give your head a shake, parallel universe that exists! Just when I thought it was too dangerous to go outside, or for a simple little walk, I find that I can not only do both, but I can have a tin bucket to give ol' Stewball a few oats and a drinka water!

Wow.

Just like back home. Shucks.

Lose the car altogether and just hit the road.

Okie dokie then.

Happy trails to you.

And you, and you and you and you!