Notes From A Warm Climate

I haven’t complained yet, have you?  43C does wonders for the skin.  We’d pay thousands for this in a salon; we’re glistening, not sweating. Some of you on the other hand enjoy sweating profusely.  While I lay like a slug trying to breathe, you take your 2PM jog.  I am fascinated watching you maintain your sanity as you run in 40C; the sun full bore.  What are you thinking?  Martyrs, all of you. Of course, in light of Toronto and Calgary floods, plane crashes, train derailments and Orange Day riots, we can hardly moan about our little bit of inclement weather.  But as I wrote in OLD YEAR/NEW YEAR, writing about our little corner is one way to sustain ourselves.  I began this post three weeks back but the neurons don’t function so well in 90% humidity. 

 

Dinner with the Pater had just wrapped up-London Broils and roast potatoes-delicious.  Forced a couple of White Russians before dinner and followed them with a bottle of rose; recommending the Pelee Island. I'll be posting the avocado courses later. Took coffee and pastry on the patio and watched the pre-Canada Day fireworks.  Where were the neighbours?  Watching the big blue screen?  Comfortable temps and no mosquitoes; we could breath and our buttocks didn’t stick to the chair.  Second slice of meringue?  Why not?  Feel very strongly about giving in to the urge to take that second slice.  Because, Dear Reader, what if something should happen and you never again taste your favourite dessert? Would you not (if you still could) kick yourself?  Give in to it.

Once the night sky lost its crackle and pop, I turned to the usual late night romp through TV Land. PBS had a doc on Harlem undertakers.  Thinking a parade through town in horse drawn carriage would be a fine thing.  Perhaps while I’m still alive, though. I must say, I’m missing The Box when it comes to Wimbledon and Tour de France.  The 7^th was the perfect day for tennis. Temps soared and a leisurely afternoon court side would have been good.  Of course the last time I watched tennis with any regularity, Connors and Cash were out on the clay. Oh, I’m not that old and yes, I know it’s 2013.  Wondering how many cyclists are doping. Very impassioned stance from The Widget Maker on the Armstrong debacle.  He claimed a large heart was the only thing responsible for the race results.  I was redeemed in the end. 

Took my leave and soaked up the remainder of the Stat holiday.  A four day week is a fine thing but you’ll be pleased to know I won’t be going down that particular rant today.  Think we’re all in agreement that the less time spent cubicalized, the better.

Tried to nurse an injured bird, but, it soon became clear that we had a dying bird on our hands. The right leg seemed to be growing out of the back of its body.  Scooped it out of the bottom of a rubble pile and it escaped only to fall into a watering can. I was distraught. Then, with what strength it had left, the bird bit me; my life flashed before my eyes.  The bird was determined to die in dignity and made its way down to the sunny patio where it took comfort in the sun.  I was worried about the heat and tried to create shade.  The bird turned to me as if to say, “Get out of my space, now.”  By eight o’clock, instinct took over and it dragged itself into the plants for the night, only to drag itself out again at sunrise, when it died.  I buried the animal in the top garden and let nature take its course.  The fireworks continued.  Someone offered up a hot dog salute to the long weekend-deep fried/bacon wrapped/dressed in mac & cheese and drizzled with fried onions.  Who could resist?  Finished off the evening with Annie Hall.  What can I say about this movie?  Do I need to say anything?  Finally noticed the photo of Allen holding the lobsters!

Thanks to those who opened their property up for Hamilton Open Gardens.  Apparently we are the only community that has managed to sustain this.  What’s blooming in the garden this week? 

 

TICKSEED...

 

SHASTA DAISY...

 

NASTURTIUM...

 

HOLLYHOCK ...

LAVENDER...

 

CHIVE...

 

 

 

 

 

 

Try to incorporate scratch and sniff into your garden.  Fragrant herbs, soft Lamb’s Ear and so on.   Don’t be afraid to mix and match; there are no rules in gardening.

Reading frenzy at the moment.  Picked up three rapid reads and I recommend them all.  Julian Barnes’ A Sense of An Ending and Staring At the Sun. Just finished Pat Barker’s Blow Your House Down where every chapter is dripping in misery but the sections end in such a way as to make you stop squirming and just be taken in by the images. You’ll probably want to read it through as soon as you’ve finished because you’ve been introduced to everyone and for obvious reasons you’ll see things from a different perspective. Wasn’t expecting chapter ten to wander off where it did; I was ill prepared. Of course, I’m still wading through Trollope.  Like Mr. Fry wrote, you have to treat books of this nature like dips and tortilla chips.

The Ice Cream Man has become a regular fixture in the neighbourhood.  Everyone wants one but nobody wants to show themselves up by actually running after him.  Happy memories of ordering a “99” back in the day.  A 99, for those of you who don’t know, consists of a cone, soft ice cream and a Flake. Delicious.  I may or may not have managed some ice cream this week.

Michael Kaeshammer graced Hamilton with his presence last Friday and Saturday as part of the BROTT FEST.  It was an impulse purchase, but so glad I did. Great show.  And we were not sat on pews as expected.  Of course I first took a wander through the graveyard, as is my wont.  As with most Brott concerts, you have to get to the venue early because it’s open seating.  I chose wisely and got sat next to some fine people.  The general rule at shows like this is that no one talks to anyone.  Fortunately the tide had turned and we had a fine conversation.  How refreshing!  Kaeshammer brought his bassist and drummer with him and I can’t say enough about the show.  Refreshing also to have such an enthusiastic performer and everyone offered up a solo.  Do like upright bass.  Drummer and bassist hanging about after the show and I made a Bee-line to thank them for the performance.  Unfortunately, they had asked someone to take their picture. There was great technical difficulty and things got a little awkward.  So I quietly took my leave because to remain would have turned me into some kind of gawker.  Hope we’ll see Mr. K. in these parts again.  I think the Proms concert, next.  Quick drive through town.  Where is the new cheese shop?  Drove past the Indian restaurant and was very tempted to pick up samosa and butter chicken.  Next time.

Sunday.  30C by early AM.  John Major interview on The Sunday Edition about his book, My Old Man.  Major's father had been a performer in early Music Halls and was sixty five by the time little John came along but Major managed to extract from him reminiscences about his early life.  Unfortunate news on the new stadium front-we are to scrub the name Ivor Wynne in favour of Tim Hortons dollars.  I detest naming rights.  We’ve been through this at the Henderson hospital.  The Juravinski’s should have done the right thing and acknowledged that they already have several buildings named after them (including the adjacent cancer hospital)and that it would be wrong to rechristen this hospital.  I digress.

Sought refuge from the heat at the Art Gallery of Hamilton.  I was in my element-19^th century French painting and photography.  Lots of it. The photographs are of the painters themselves in their studios or portrait sitting.  Enjoyed the Arthur Crisp’s,  Lavergne’s David with the Head of Goliath, Steinman’s Roulette and the film I’ll call, The Chess Player of Sarajevo. (Have you read The Cellist of Sarajevo?) Basically, the movie cuts between two men playing chess and a ballet where the chess pieces have come to life.  Something you’ll have to see for yourself.  Finished up having a wander through the new grocery store, Nations Fresh Foods.  Wondering how this will affect the Farmers’ Market?  The downtown needed a seven day a week store. Sliced pig feet and ears available along with deep fried chicken feet.  It’s carrying a bit of everything-fresh veg to deli and cheese to Thai, dim sum and Chinese takeout to bagels and coffee.  Have a wander ‘round and pick up something you haven’t tried before.

Drove past Gage Park.  The flower beds are looking well but couldn’t get a parking spot on account of the Jazz concert at the band shell.  It was rather hot to be wandering around, though.  Here is something from last year, OUR OWN KEW GARDENS, until the new one’s come along. 

Now if you'll excuse me, I have to cool off with another in a series of icy showers.

More people watching to come.  I think I hear Stratford calling. 

Old Year/New Year

Good New Year to you.

Abstained from the blog for the holidays. Some are trying to go gadget-free one night a week at AA type affairs and having to go through deep therapy to cope. You're not reading this in the WC, are you?

Like to take my Xmas season right through the Orthodox holidays. And why not? In fact why stop at Xmas? I like the idea of borrowing from the many traditions out there and creating your own eclectic experience. Apply it to Easter, Thanksgiving and so on.

The cards are still up(missing about four this year-you know who you are), the tree is still up-naturally artificial, however I did hear rumour of a man with a twenty year old vrai chose. I’m with Stewart Maclean who also keeps his tree up through Winter. These are dark mornings and a little glow of tree light with breakfast is just the thing.

 

After a frenzy of shopping, baking mince tarts (labour intensive but pleased with the outcome), fruit cake and almond bark (amongst others) and prepping for the big day, I went into hibernation mode.

Was housebound with the Boxing Day storm, coming up for air on Jan 2. It was a time of gross indulgence-Ceasars, Rusty Nails, red, white, ice and port wines, the 10PM caffeine consumption, plum pudding, triple crème Brie, Stilton, chocolate, Eggs Benedict and The Full Monty breakfasts. Tried on a skirt yesterday and caught sight of my thighs-the horror. Did I move at all from Xmas Eve to the afternoon of the 2^nd? Does moving from the dining room table to the Family Room count as exercise? There were stairs involved. I did exercise the old grey cells deciding on which of the two hundred and fifty channels to watch.

You see the whole culture in an evening. Caught up with Absolutely Fabulous, Yes, Minister(this does age well), Die Hard I, II, III (I hear we’re about to be treated to IV), Martin Clunes(seems like such a genuinely all round nice guy), The Queen’s Palaces, Craig Ferguson of the Late Late Show on location in Scotland (pick up the movie Born Romantic-he plays a guy with a Dean Martin obsession), Corner Gas, Reality TV-Storage Wars-love Barry, and Come Dine With Me-took all my effort to stay with this one. Fascinating peak at the world. Learned that Britain is churning out a very nice sparkling wine. South Downs-champagne capital of England. It’s all in the chalk.

Back to the device thing. On the pre midnight recap of New Year’s celebrations in China and Australia, was anyone actually looking at the fireworks or were they only recording it? I saw only cell phones. It’s important to participate in events not just document, same goes for blogging. Are you participating in the moment or merely logging the events? Interview on Spark this week with a woman who has to actively set aside a day where she is not emailing or tweeting. I would never survive in a Twitter-only world. I find it staggering what people put out there. Recent interview in The Spec asking interviewee what her latest tweet was-“craving croissant and coffee”. I will say, though, that after a recent browse through Indigo, anything and everything is on the market. So if you want to blog or tweet about it, go ahead. Goodness knows, I’m doing it. I recently came across Breathing Treatment Here’s a guy giving weather updates (amongst many other things) from California. Really enjoyed going through the archive-he’s got a bit of everything.

Finished off the AGH Napoleon exhibit. Fancied himself as a bit of a Julius Ceasar type. Thanks to the Xmas TVO watching, learned that the silverware at this time was laid face down. Why? All those frilly cuffs. They would get caught up in the tines of the fork. The AGH displayed forks and spoons face down. No need to ask why. Silverware was a big deal during this time. Today we may display wealth with a car or boat, back then it was silverware. Apparently Joseph Bonaparte lived in New Jersey for some time. I think crime lords not French ex-pats when I think of Jersey.

Have you finished at the AGH and it’s Shawarma you’re after?  North side of King West and Caroline, sandwiched between two Japanese restaurants is a very rustic looking purveyor of kebab and rice. Excellent Shawarma; fresh dressings and a very tidy sandwich which is critical when you're jamming a pita with a dozen items.

So January arrived and with it the sun. England had been under a deluge of eternal rain and we remarked that cold and sun are a much better combination than cold, cloud and damp. After a fry up of The Full Monty and a pot of tea, emerged from the house on January 2 to prepare for the coming Work Day. Things to do-mainly clearing the cobwebs. Donned about three layers of clothing and set off into Farm Country. Pit stop at the Stoney Creek cemetery; I like the way the sun was coming through the trees with the late PM sun.  Older graves including a War of 1812. Primarily births from late 1800’s.

Up into Tapleytown and found a crumbling barn. What a difference snow makes to the landscape. 

Tour of the Catholic cemetery-fairly recent cookie cutter headstones. A golden Mary greets you at the gate.

Next door are two older churchyards-St. Georges and Tapleytown United. Wanted to take a tour of the little one room school house down the road but as a police cruiser was parked up, thought better of it. Home and collapsed by 7PM.

 

 

 

Work days a blur and just as well. Ah, the two day work week. If only it were a permanent thing.

Finally made it to the AGO and the Frida and Diego exhibit. Time was ticking and one thing you don’t want to do is go on the last day of an exhibit. This runs ‘til the 20^th and I would suggest a weekday if you can. Usual issues with any exhibit like this. People going through life with blinders on. There’s always someone going to stand in front of you no matter what.

The Calla Lily Vendor...

It’s exhausting dealing with humans. It’s my own fault. I did not read the fine print for the 28^thtelling me that I had to book in advance. Could have taken a much quieter tour but perhaps next time when the Renaissance comes to town. Xmas week is the ideal time to be in Toronto. Most of it’s shut down and it’s quiet and calm on the streets. Walked from the Esplanade & Front to McCaul & Dundas. Far enough in a cold climate. Interesting how the AGO operates versus the AGH. Here I show my little paper membership card and I’m given an entrance sticker. End of story. There, I have to present my heavy duty membership card, photo ID and specify what exhibits I want to see. At the exhibit, I’m asked for my ticket, membership and depending on the mood, id. Is this an Art Gallery or Putin’s Inner Circle?

Detail from The Feast of Santa Anita...

I’ve always appreciated Frida Kahlo’s paintings, but didn’t know very much about Rivera. Enjoyed his self portraits, landscapes, Woman With Flowers, Feast of Santa Anita, Dance of the Sun and Calla Lily Vendor. There were a lot of photographs of the two artists, my favourite being by Mary Lou Packard. Favourite Kahlo painting is Love Embrace of the World (below).

Viva the uni-brow and moustache!!

 

Emerged from the chaos into a virtually empty, calm, cool, green room of African art. Ahh. Advice for this gallery? Get a membership and take it one exhibit at a time.

Once again, the muffins were dynamite.

Dundas West is a great stretch of road for restaurants. Side by side Caribbean, Middle Eastern, Japanese, Korean, Chinese and Thai. Try a moveable feast-a little nibble of everything. Start with some soup in one place, then sushi at another and finish with falafel somewhere else. Went with hot and sour soup. Delicious. Would like to see “real” chicken in Asian dishes. I’m told it’s injected with water to plump it up and tenderize it but it’s not a good mouth feel. Indian restaurants have the real thing. You can tell the difference. Someone from the street wandered in and made a B-Line for the kitchen. She was quietly escorted out.

Meandered back through the mall. Can someone explain the appeal of a Coach bag? Why is it that the higher the price tag, the uglier the bag? I spied a messenger bag in men’s wear. I couldn’t resist looking at the tag-$400 for a bit of leather. The Men’s section is definitely more stylish than the women’s, though and should it have fit my budget, it would make an ideal carry-all for a day like Saturday.

Finished up the day with a spiced latte. A Starbucks? Yes, I know I said I wouldn’t go chain on this trip. Church pews for seats and Diana Krall in the background. People on first name terms here and it was the only spot (apart from my attempt at humour on Queen Street, which generated one smile from a fellow pedestrian) that anyone spoke. The Urban Experience. I remember meeting a friend in town some years ago. She’s from Farm Country and was doing a few semesters in TO. She’d gone Urban overnight. “You don’t make eye contact,” she said. We were on the Subway at the time. I like to stop and look around. Staring at the pavement gets boring, fast.

I defiantly asked for a MEDIUM. “You mean a GRANDE?”  he asked.  Try this link.
Letter to Starbucks Great piece on making sense, if you can, of the sizing system at Starbucks. A server was giving away the stale scones. Even she wouldn’t eat them. What did I spy amongst the laptops and cellphones? A person writing with paper and pen. Could it be? So I am not alone here. I'm never without my little notebook.

Had sat down to pen something before now, but, with the announcement of the death of the young Indian woman, it hardly seemed the time for my sarcasm and flippancy. The reality is there is never a good time. Death, torture and suffering are a daily occurrence. This will not change. Mother and child found dead in the trunk of a vehicle, four dead in Kabul due to book burnings, gay man beaten to death by man on one hour pass from psychiatric hospital, 200 elephants slaughtered for ivory, Mitt Romney running for president (alright, that’s not quite in the same league, but imagine, Dear Reader, if he had got in). We complain about our little lot in life, seemingly oblivious to the “bad” things out there. But we do acknowledge these things, we do what we can to try to change a situation-be it domestic or otherwise and we get on with our lives because, as it states above, we need a pressure valve for the brain. Writing about excessive self indulgence is OK. Instagrams of your child eating broccoli, Tweeting about the movie you’re watching and sharing milestones is OK. It is how we sustain ourselves amidst the chaos around us.

And what has sustained me these last twelve months? "New Year reflection? Thought you didn’t believe in that sort of thing," I hear you saying. Apart from Letterman, saw only one published “Best Of” list for 2012. Much improvement; clearly everyone got my memo.

Until next time.

Like a Drowned Rat-Culture and Recreation

"In The Bleak Midwinter... "

The song will have to wait for another time.  As most Ontarians take an extra dose of Happy Pills, I say, embrace the weather.  It's just a matter of layering and not resigning yourself to complaining about it.  (But we do it anyway.)

Took some pictures of the Niagara Escarpment.  Like the contrast of the dark tree trunks and the yellow branches in the rain.




 

Breathing and vision fully restored by late Friday  evening. Stocked the larder against the coming storm and took a few moments of R & R.  And it was mere moments.  Declined the beer in favour of the martini but ultimately went with a Horlicks.  Comfort food.  As I didn't have a vat of macaroni and cheese waiting for me when I got home, Horlicks was just the thing.  Malt & Barley-very fortifying; like a beer, only no alcohol.  Has a very soporific effect. 

9AM Saturday.  No light in the house and staggered from one room to the next trying to find something suitable to sweat in. Enthusiasm not running high for the workout, but, I went.  Six of us in total.  What were the other ten doing?  Nestled under their respective duvet? Dreaming of the big breakfast fry-up?  The instructor may as well have stayed home.  After two hours sleep she had dragged herself in after a night at the casino.  Self-motivation was key here.

13:00  Opera bound.  The most excruciating drive into town.  Had forgotten that the Ti-Cat game was on. Ticket holders clad in yellow longshoremen slickers and pants.   It's raining so of course everyone is doing 40kmh.  Why? 

The debacle that is the Tiger Cats.    What more can be said about this team? Pages have been devoted to it. The 2013 season is an unknown quantity at this stage.  The old stadium is coming down and they have nowhere to play.  The proposed stadium is smaller than this one, seating is reduced, parking is reduced.  Full exposure to the elements for the fans.  Going to be in the same spot as the existing venue which has proven to not work for the neighbourhood, the fans and the city at large.  One only has to look at the stadium time line of events to see that it is in fact clown suits Council wears and not the traditional shirt and tie.  (Ti-Cat management have been playing dress up also.)

Had the choice to join the Zombie Walk down at Bayfront Park.  Very tempting, but, went with the hunchback in the three piece suit.

Parked up and joined the queue to feed the meter.  There is no consensus on parking fees.  Think the meter is free on a Saturday.  The lots, no.  No one really knows.  Time was a little man in the green booth took a flat rate fee but now it's all automated.  No one dare risk not feeding the meter.  Fines being what they are.

14:00  Theatre facade under reconstruction and things didn't look good.  Pink rinse set in the seats.  Lots of canes and a poor women who had both feet in therapy boots.  I kept waiting for her to tip sideways and go over the aisle.  A few under 50's.   My seat mate was a "purse rummager"  and in distress.  Her friend was nowhere to be found and she was not pleased that another woman was sitting in her friend's spot.  Friend located at intermission.  This meant that the caned rummager made two round trips to the lobby.  I feared she too would go over the aisle.  Unfortunately, she slept through two thirds of the production, waking only when the soloists hit the high notes.  Do you jab strangers in the ribs to wake them up?  They've paid good money and it's an expensive nap.

Hamilton Place this is not, but Theatre Aquarius has turned into a good venue for Opera Hamilton.  The acoustics do not compare and the pit is hidden.  Traditionally first violin walks on followed by the conductor.  You just can't see anyone in this pit.  Speers did manage to poke his head above the stage, but, I think a step stool would go a long way here.  After all, you want to give the orchestra due credit and they did do a fine job.

This was a modern day Rigoletto set in penthouse boardrooms and karaoke bars.  Great voices.  I had two very chatty seatmates.  If you've lost track of the plot, don't confer with each other; read the program notes.  These two probably talk through movies-you know the type.  I had to shush them.  Someone had to take a stand.  You know everyone wants to take a stand, but, they're paralyzed with fear.  It's only a 'shush'.  I left the theatre a conquering hero.

18:00  The Pater was cooking dinner.  Excruciating drive East.  Who's familiar with The Green Wave?  If you hit the traffic lights right, you can get out of town in about fifteen minutes.  Just maintain 50kmh and you'll hit them just right.  BUT, you're up the proverbial if your timing's off.

Sunday roast beef on a Saturday night.  Mash, roast spuds, sprouts, winner of the World's Biggest Squash award, Yorkshire Pudding, gravy, cheese and biscuits, chocolate pastry.  Just the right elements on such a night.  I'd like to see more restaurants do a cheese and biscuit(crackers, to the uninitiated) course, but, it's still very much an Anglo thing.  Finishes the meal off.

Oblivious to the rain. The Merlot had worked its magic.

Sunday Afternoon.  Rain.  Decide to press on.

13:00  Final day of the Emily Carr exhibit at the AGH.  Here's a picture of the front door to the AGH.  Just want to make it absolutely clear.  There was a time when there wasn't a front door and getting in proved challenging for any visitors.  A front door was probably uppermost on the key players' minds when renovating.

And, the AGH letters are still in place.  One fell off in high wind and had to be re engineered. We'll see what happens with the coming storm.

Enjoyed the Carr exhibit. 

 

Adjacent to this was the Zinedine Zidane exhibit. Seventeen cameras filmed the footballer, exclusively, during a 2005 Real Madrid match. It’s a very intense ninety minutes of video. Close-ups of his head, feet, sweat. Runs ‘til April 28.

Caught the green wave out of town and headed to Walmart.  Mistake.  Hoards of parents looking for last minute Hallowe’en costumes.    Hoards of shoppers.  Can people think of nothing else on a rainy day but shop?  I grabbed my items and waited patiently in the queue.  Got to the car looking like a drowned rat.

15:00 Mohammed Hanif interview on Writers & Company.  Very eloquent man who felt very strongly that we should not be making heroes out of 14 year old Pakistani girls.  They should be doing what every other fourteen year old is doing, not trying to change policy and getting shot in the head for doing so.  Putting “A Case of Exploding Mangoes” on the reading list.

Home to the soothing sounds of Bach's Violin Concerto in A Minor.  Ahhhh.

18:00  Watching junior league (six year olds) hockey.  As their coach puts it, cat herding.  This was their second game, ever, and yes, there were some comic moments.  I give full credit to parents for getting their kids involved and spending every Friday, Saturday and Sunday at practise and games.  It was tough to concentrate on the game at times as three rather (I’ll be polite here) rambunctious children ran amok in the stands.  Whither parental control?? 

I do hope those of you out there who have decided to support OHL and local hockey during this silly business with Gary and his pals, will continue to do so if and when the strike comes to an end.  You say you will, but, why is it a challenge getting more than 3,000 of you in the stands during any given game?  The Big Boys can take care of themselves; give the OHL a chance.  You don’t really want to reward the NHL with your instant patronage.  Let us have our own strike.  Enough said about hockey.   

21:00  The Strombo Show and a recommendation for Hallowe’en.  The Devils, directed by Ken Russell.  Took an X-rating back in '71.  Oliver Reed and Vanessa Redgrave star.  Not for the faint of heart.  Enjoy!