Category: Uncategorized

A Day at the Cottage. Idle Thoughts.

August 28, 2022

The lake was smooth, and I was sipping my first cup of coffee on the deck early in the morning. The grumble of a starting boat engine woke me from my meditation, which is usually to think of nothing. How inconsiderate, waking everybody up at 7 am. The large inboard/outboard ambled out of the bay and slowly coasted down close to the shore in front of me. I was having my second cup when I saw the boat coming back and then turning direction again, with a young male standing at the wheel but not fishing. That was surprising. What was he doing? Then an aluminum boat appeared and circled the other one and the two boaters talked with each other. I thought that was strange, a meeting early morning on the lake. It appeared to me the first boater was waiting for the other and just coasted on the lake until the other one arrived. The Ozark episodes on Netflix came to my mind where drugs were distributed to boats on a lake while a preacher gave a sermon to the anchored boaters. Oh, shut up. Your imagination is running wild. Probably just two friends from Toronto discovered that both have a place on the same lake and arranged to meet.

We came up to the cottage on Birch Island the night before, to relax after family visits and to eat up the leftovers. We did not have anything to carry over to the cottage and did not use the carts at the marina for moving stuff to the boat. But we saw the weekenders had begun to arrive and fill the parking lot. Disturbing was a couple of young people bringing, what looked like a huge sound system. Sound travels far on the lake and we do not cherish late-night parties. A worse scenario is when we see cases of beer carried onto the boats.

But it was a quiet night, and the morning was relaxing on the deck, punctuated by the two motorboats trolling now along the lake in front of me, with the two young people fishing. I decided to go for a walk on the island.

Walking, I came upon one nice cottage and was confronted by its owner standing on the path and bemoaning the loss of shade trees, providing privacy to her cottage.  She told me: “Ontario Hydro cut down my cedars that I planted fifty years ago”. I looked at the cuts that showed tree trunks of over a foot in diameter. Ontario Hydro maintains the right-of-way of the power line paralleling the path by cutting down vegetation along it. I empathized with her but remarked that at least we have electricity here.

With the heat rising by now, the lake beckoned me, and I returned to ponder a swim. My son-in-law brought me a swimming buddy, a red balloon that you tie onto your waist, so the boats can see you in the water. I blew up the swimming buddy, attached it to my waist, and jumped into the water, avoiding the wannabe water skiers.

Life on the water is, to me, the essence of cottage life on a lake. Kathy grew up in Wales on the waterfront close to Porthmadog in Caernarfonshire and I grew up in Hungary, where we spent our summers on the Danube. We both enjoy water-related activities and getting the cottage was a joint venture.

Another favorite activity is dinners with the family on the deck after a day of playing on and in the water. With long daylight and no mosquitoes until sundown, the deck provides the ideal space for freewheeling discussions on career choices for our grandchildren or how much our healthcare system sucks: wait a minute, we discuss both sides of the healthcare challenges we face today.

Tonight, the grandchildren prepared the meal and the third choice was tacos and burritos. It is interesting to me that although I do not cook much, all my children and grandchildren can and some even enjoy cooking. Quite a change from the old days. After the meal, the grandchildren washed the dishes, and under the threat of missing dessert, it is not democratic at the cottage. Sundown and the arrival of mosquitoes pushed us into the cottage. And we heard the loons on our lake providing the background music before the crickets took over.

One needs money and time for a cottage: cottagers are people, in my experience, with an established career and a family. Limited by the seasons and vacation time, people have cottages on our island that stay vacant most of the time. When I survey all this vacant real estate, I think that this is extravagant or perhaps indecent from a societal point of view. I really enjoy it though.

Spring Cleanup in the Yard and Thoughts

June 17, 2022

I was cutting grass on our front lawn for the third time in early June after having fertilized the lawn a few weeks before and even planted clover to cover up bald spots when suddenly I thought about how our seasons affect yard work. And, that thought led me to ask: do I enjoy yard work? Do I do enough of it to get the garden I want? Or, am I getting bored with it or perhaps not being able to maintain it? We have four distinct seasons in Ottawa, each with an impact on the work in our yard.

In the winter, there is snow cover, cold temperatures down to the minus twenties centigrade, and short days with six hours of daylight. There is no reason or wish to spend time in our yard beyond clearing the driveway after snow storms.

 It takes a month for the snow to melt in the spring, during which the yard is slushy and dirty from air pollution and the detritus from the fast-food places a block away from us. The yard is ugly in March; the worst month for many people who choose to travel south to avoid it.

But the snowmelt brings in Spring, with a positive, uplifting feeling to it: nature regenerates itself and I look forward to seeing green grass again. And the days are getting longer with temperature breaking through zero centigrade. By the end of March, I get energized seeing bare spots in the snow and get out to rake up the grass from its horizontal position into which the snow pushed it and gather the garbage settled on the lawn after the winter months.

Snow covers our backyard longer than the front. It is in the shade. By shoveling the snow off the deck and breaking up the ice, I feel I hurry the melting process.

By mid-April, the temperature rises into the teens and I do a thorough clean-up of the yard from the garbage, food wrappers, and bottles thrown or blown onto the lawn. Gray dust settles on the lawn once the snow is melted, from air pollution and the winter snow-clearing operation along the street that throws the snow onto the lawn.

By the end of April, I uncover the garden equipment/furniture and the air-conditioner and put the tarps I used to wrap up the lawnmower and chairs and tables in the backyard into a storage box. My positive feelings are reinforced by firing up the BBQ for the first time in the year. It is always fun to cook burgers outdoors for the first time in the season.

My enthusiasm ebbs when the weeds come up. Especially when I fertilize the lawn and, a few weeks later, notice dandelions growing. It is harder to control weeds now since they did away with DDT.

The perennials come back each year with a vengeance, especially the hostas. The planting of annuals belongs to Kathy, and we have the traditional geraniums each year with the spiky plant in the middle in our large pots. I also bring out the hoses from under the deck where I store them each year in the Fall and attach them to various spigots to water the flowers.

Then we have the special tasks: this year Kathy put a fresh coat of oil on the expansive decks I build decades ago. The pressure washer is used to clean the stone patio from the winter dust. It is amazing how white and clean the patio stones shine after a thorough cleaning.

By the end of May, the weather gets hot and a hard day’s work in the yard has its reward of having a cool beer in hand. When combined with a BBQ, the Spring cleanup of the yard becomes memorable.

The summers can be hot, temperatures rising to the mid-thirties centigrade. The good thing is that the yard needs mostly maintenance, such as grass cutting, weeding, and trimming. We don’t get a lot of rain, so we have to sprinkle to maintain the grass and plants. And the flowers suffer when water rationing is introduced.

In the fall, we enjoy the vivid colors in the yard without the bugs, mosquitoes, or bees to bother us. And the annual rotation of work starts again by raking the falling leaves altho grass grows much more slowly not requiring weekly cuts. We end up storing the outdoor equipment and covering up the garden furniture before the first snowfall.

What caused me to think through the work involved in having a garden or a yard is: are we still enjoying and able to do the work involved in having a yard? Because if it is becoming too much or boring, there are two options: hire people to do the work or move into a condo where the outside work is performed by the condo corporation.

Although you could work every day in the yard, we do not. We have a friend who spends a couple of hours each day tending to his small but beautifully coiffed garden. I like the natural look and our yard looks a bit overgrown and I compare it to a jungle sometimes. But I like it bushy. Our yard work is manageable and extends mostly during the spring and the fall. The summer is maintenance and there is nothing to do during the winter except snow-clearing the driveway. Thinking about it, I have concluded the work is enjoyable even if hard sometimes and the “beer in the hand” after a hard day’s work makes up for the trouble of having the yard.

The Friendly Americans

May 19, 2022  

We were driving along highway 37 in upstate New York when there was a beep and the dashboard in the car flashed a message that our tire pressure was low. A few weeks ago, I had the regular tires installed replacing the winter tires, and thought the mechanics checked tire pressure automatically. Our destination was a thousand miles south, and we had to fix the tires.  

We stopped at the next gas station and looked for an air pump. Not seeing one, I asked a couple of fellows working on a truck if they knew whether the station had an air pump. They pointed to the back of the station but warned that the pump had no pressure gauge built into it and asked whether I had a pressure gauge. I said I did not have one. But I backed up to the pump and thought of putting some air into all the tires anyway. To get the warning light off. 

As I backed my car to the air pump, one fellow I talked with came over and handed me a new pressure gauge, still in a paper package. I opened the package, and, using the gauge, discovered that the right rear tire had less pressure than the other three tires, so I put some air into it.  

When I finished pumping the tire, I went to return the gauge, only to find the two fellows had left. At the gas station, I inquired whether the gauge came from there and if so, I wanted to pay for it. But the clerk said the fellow purchased the gauge costing over five dollars. So, a total stranger bought the gauge for me! What a friendly and helpful gesture that was.  

Why would someone purchase a tire pressure gauge for a total stranger? If he had one, he would have let me use it. But buying one? Perhaps I looked totally inept, and he tried to help me by buying it. But maybe he was just being friendly and trying to help a stranger who needed help? I was totally taken by this friendly gesture. And that friendliness extended to the clerk at the station who chatted with us and went out of her way to check the price of the gauge.  

This was not the first time someone stopped on the highway to help us. We were driving north on I40 a hundred miles south of Durham, North Carolina when I blew a tire and stopped on an off-ramp. Before I finished calling the AAA, a friendly person stopped at our side and in less than ten minutes, changed the tire expertly, loosening the lugs; cranking up the car on the side and putting on the spare.  

Not only on the highways but elsewhere too, helpful experiences await you in the US. At the local grocery chain store in Baton Rouge, Louisiana, comparable to our Loblaws chain in Ontario, store people asked me how they could help find items without prompting. It is often difficult to find a store clerk at Loblaws in Ottawa and I have never been approached by a clerk offering help.  

I found the same walking on the streets of Baton Rouge this morning; people said hello and how are you, meeting you. Back home, people are more reserved and often pass you without even acknowledgment.  

I think that friendliness is baked into the DNA of Americans. It may be a historical, cultural trait, borne out of hardships in occupying the country and building communities. Whatever is the root of this characteristic, it triggers a warm feeling inside of you.  

The Curse of Oak Leaves

May 7, 2022

The Curse of Oak Leaves

It is a beautiful May afternoon. The wind is blowing the oak leaves in my backyard and I am sipping coffee and thinking about how much more raking I need to collect the leaves. The piles of oak leaves cover up my plants. Oak trees lose their leaves slowly through the Fall and Winter. I try to get the leaves collected before the snow covers the plants in the Fall. But, of course, cannot collect the oak leaves which fall over the Winter until snowmelt in the Spring.

Oak leaves come from the neighbor; we do not have any oak trees. We have other trees, the leaves of which had already fallen and been collected before snowfall.

Mind you, the leaves are large and beautiful in attractive hues but feel like leather. And that is why they do not crumple, even in time. They survive as whole leaves and cover the ground, killing the plants and vegetation under. So collecting them is a must if you want to keep your garden.

Now it is May again and lo-and-behold, there are still oak leaves in my yard.

When the neighbor moved in decades ago, they planted some sample trees, many oaks, along the perimeter of their yard. It sounded like a good idea. But trees grow and in decades the trees became mammoth.

For example, the ironwood in the corner next to us is over eighty feet tall. The lower branches were scraping and making a hole in my roof, so I had to hire people to take some branches off, which cost hundreds of dollars.

Before the contractor could prune the ironwood, he had to have the approval of the neighbor. So we marched over to the owner of the house next door and I talked with the woman whom we had known for a long time but never socialized with. Her husband died of cancer a couple of decades ago and she has not maintained her yard, nor pruned the trees. But she agreed to have her tree pruned, seeing the professional-looking t-shirt with a company logo, worn by the tree cutter. At any rate, I paid for the branch removal.

Another year, another cleanup of the oak leaves. Another few dozen bags later, I was getting mad: why do I have to clean up after the neighbor? The wind blows HER leaves into my yard. She should clean up. But she does not even clean up her yard except for a day in the Fall and a day in the Spring, hiring a contractor for the cleanup. Is there some bylaw that would require people to clean up their yard? And could such a bylaw be enforced? Or could there be a bylaw prohibiting the planting of oak trees on regular-sized, quarter-acre city lots?

Now I thought of talking with my neighbor when in a good mood and not upset with raking her leaves and perhaps trying to convince her to get her cleanup earlier and more thoroughly in the Fall and the Spring to minimize her oak leaves arriving in my yard. But I decided that would be useless; I chatted once with her before replacing an aging and ugly cedar hedge between us comprising tall poles denuded of green parts and even offered to pay for it, but she refused.

Another idea I thought of was to just dump the leaves back in her yard; they are her leaves. I thought about it and declined to act. She lives by herself and probably needs help. Who am I to give her more grief?

So I keep raking, bagging, and hoping that gypsy moths will enjoy the oak leaves this Spring and take care of my continuing frustration this year.

From Real to Unreal in One Day

April 29, 2022

My car dealership does not have a van to take clients home when they leave their cars for the day. Instead, they call Uber. I left my car yesterday for maintenance at the dealership and they called Uber. My Uber driver was Syrian. He came to Canada as a refugee escaping Assad’s regime. He has a family and told me he works twelve-hour days. His Hyundai was spotless but explained to me that his next car will be an electric one to save on fuel. His biggest cost today is gas.

When I got home and opened my computer, there was an invitation for me to fill out a survey on “mobility justice”; a concept that transportation services should be equally available in all communities. This was a follow-up to a webinar that I signed up for previously.

The invite said: “We are continuing to explore what mobility justice means for community members on the unceded and unsurrendered territory of the Algonquin Anishinabe People (so-called Ottawa)”. OK. So if people ask me where I am from, what do I say? Am I from Ottawa or am I from the unceded and unsurrendered territory of the Algonquin Anishinabe People?

Come on now! Ottawa, Canada, is known around the world as the capital city of Canada. Who heard of the unceded and unsurrendered territory of the Algonquin Anishinabe People?

Before completing the survey, I listened to the transcript of the webinar

The first speaker at the webinar spoke on behalf of the City for all Women Initiative, a volunteer group working with the City of Ottawa. She explained that “marginalized” communities, typically occupied by low-income and racialized people, lack sidewalks, cycling paths, and bus service. For example, the LRT (Light Rail Transit) in Ottawa does not serve the communities at Heron Gate, Dynes Road, Overbrook, Vanier, and Carlington, implying that these communities are low-income and racialized. She did not produce hard data to support her comments. The LRT serves a tiny portion of Ottawa: it is being built currently, so her comments apply to most of Ottawa.

In addition, she talked about other barriers affecting the ability of these communities to access public transit – the lack of safety on buses and bus shelters in need of cleaning. She said bus service should be frequent, affordable, and reliable in marginalized areas.

I agree with everything she said except that bus service should be available in all communities, not only in marginalized areas.

But what does “mobility justice” mean in practical terms? Could it be the same number of buses in each community regardless of population density? A bus stop within walking distance from all people in the community? And if so, with what frequency and cost? My head was spinning with questions on what is equal access to transportation or “mobility justice”.

The next speaker was a member of the Criminalization and Punishment Education Project (CPEP was established by professors and students at Carleton University and the University of Ottawa). The key message of CPEP is to change our minds about resolving social conflict by focusing on mutual help instead of criminalization and punishment. He made a pitch for defunding the police and using the money instead for community building. He introduced himself as a highly privileged, white, cisgender person; I am not sure what the point was in doing so. He said that he is not an expert on “mobility justice” and listening to his comments, I wondered why he was at the webinar.

He described one key objective of his group: “Challenge inequality, privilege and dominant social structures (e.g. capitalism, colonialism, racism, patriarchy, heteronormativity, and ableism) that have a particularly negative impact on marginalized persons and groups.”

By now my mind was going gradually numb with all this social jargon until another speaker spoke of looking at the Transportation Master Plan under preparation by the City of Ottawa through an “equity lens”. Aha! This may be the nub of mobility justice: look at transportation planning via an “equity lens”. But equity was not defined, and neither was the lens. I was not sure how to quantify the equity needed to correct the situation, discovered through the lens.

Before I could finish listening to the entire transcript of the webinar and respond to the survey, the car dealership called my car was ready, and sent an Uber taxi to pick me up. During our ride, the driver mentioned that he hardly makes ten dollars an hour with increased gas prices and needs to work two jobs to make a living wage. The reality of trying to make a living today brought me back to the genuine issues facing people.

I appreciate the work of all those people advocating for “mobility justice”, for low-income and racialized people, whatever that entails. But I wonder if we should talk about creating better-paying jobs for those people, instead of demolishing their homes for the right-of-way of the LRT?