Downtown in the 6ix

   We've moved. Again. We finished our stay by the lake in the west of Toronto a week ago, spent a couple of days at Jen's and now we're in the heart of the city in the middle of everything.

  For those of you who know downtown Toronto, we're in a condo building midway between the Dome and the Ex, next to Fort York. To our right, we're at eye level with the Gardiner Expressway and to our left is the old Tip Top Tailors. Not much of a view from our balcony but we're a short walk to lots of interesting stuff. Not too shabby.

  That's us on the left.

  Our current home is small and contains the necessities, although this is the first place without a toaster. Coffee comes from an espresso machine. Y'know... all the grinding and infusing and brewing to get an ounce of mud. A decent amount of coffee in the morning requires brewing six shots. Yep. We're awake.

  The young couple we're sitting for are very nice and I'm sure they spend a lot of their income at the local eating and drinking establishments so who needs cooking paraphernalia? I'm not sure I'd be that different if I lived around here.

  It's noisy here in the city. Traffic sounds drift in twenty-four hours a day. Sirens wail, commuter trains rumble, streetcar wheels squeal around corners. These are familiar noises I remember from growing up in the city but we've lived in Newmarket for thirty-five years and the difference is a little shocking. Of course, it's a trade-off. Newmarket's quiet... and boring. Life is noisy.

  This week's animal is a cute little cat named Belles. She's a bit shy but she likes to play and seems ok with entertaining us with her acrobatics. It's always nice sitting for a cat as we don't have to rush home for feedings and walks, etc. It allows us to do some exploring and, even though I've lived in the Toronto area for most of my life, there's lot around here that's new to me.

  Our first few days here have been spent with me running up to Bradford to continue with David's basement project. It's not a bad commute since I'm going against the grain. The ninety minute city-bound drive is only forty-five minutes going north. Maybe the sextuple espresso has something to do with that.

  Much progress has been made with all the old stuff having been finally torn out, new framing complete and plumbers in today to rough-in the bathroom. Since I can't work while they're jackhammering the floor Penny and I decided to do some exploring and we picked the perfect day for it, 22C and sunny which, for the end of October in Toronto, is... not too shabby.

  We're a ten minute walk to the new Stackt Market which is a series of shipping containers turned into boutiques, restaurants and bars with event spaces for bands. It looks like fun and we'll likely head down there this evening. We also headed to The Well for lunch, a new spot for international take-away eats that's received terrific reviews since it opened this past spring. I counted outlets for dishes from at least a dozen countries. No KFC, McDonalds, Taco Bell, etc. Real food. We even have a Japadog, which is a thing in Vancouver. If you were reading this blog last summer you'll now about my corn dog affliction. The Japanese version interests me.

  Our stroll took us north on Spadina Avenue through some gentrification and into the old Chinatown.

  This area, until the 1950's, was home to most of Toronto's Jewish community and has a lot of significance for my family history. Both my parents grew up near here. My mother worked at the Labor Lyceum as a bookkeeper when she met my father in 1948.

  They would have been married seventy-five years last week. My grandfather on my mother's side was the business manager for the garment workers' union and was instrumental in organizing it in the 1920's, shortly after he and my grandmother arrived from Poland.

  It's a fascinating area where the new mixes with the old. So many of the buildings have been repurposed for both commercial and residential use. It's a nice walk if you haven't spent much time down here. And for those of you upset with grocery prices, head down to one of the Chinese markets where you'll see prices the major supermarkets haven't seen in years, like a pint of strawberries for a dollar. If I lived down here I know where I'd be shopping!

  Of course, like all the walks we take in places familiar and unfamiliar, there's always a surprise in store. Here's an old friend of Toronto baseball fans, soon to be blocked out by a new condo building going up next door.

  We're only here a short time, back to Jen's on Tuesday for a short stay, before heading back to the city for a seven week stay which will take us to New Years. After that... who knows? Someplace warm, we hope.

Cheers!

The Hard Part Begins

   So here we are in the Big Smoke. We returned from Kelowna early Tuesday morning and headed to our next house sit where we'll be until Thursday. This time we're in a picturesque neighbourhood in the west end of Toronto right by Lake Ontario.

  It's what Penny and I call a "pokey" house. It's small and fairly crowded and not very well equipped. It's owned by a woman who doesn't live here and currently occupied by her divorced boyfriend and his dog while she lives in an apartment downtown. Don't ask. He's away in Vegas for ten days so we have the dog.

  It's easy to tell a single man lives here. There's no food to speak of in the fridge, no real cooking equipment, the oven barely works, etc. We're making do with it as we're not here long but it only took two hours for this place to supplant the house in Mobile as the worst one we've stayed in over the past year and a half. At least the dog is cool.

  Scout is a border collie mix who will chase balls endlessly, as they do. His ears are up in this picture because he thinks a ball is coming his way. Happy guy. The house backs onto a waterfront park that connects to Toronto's Waterfront Trail so lots of places to walk here.

  The views are beautiful and it's a fairly interesting area so it's a nice spot to land if you ignore the house. We're about forty-five minutes to Newmarket so it's not crazy far. It's about the same to Bradford, which leads me to the "hard part" in the title. As I've mentioned previously, we're here this fall because I'm helping David build out his basement living space. In order to do that there's demolition to do first and, since David hasn't had time to do any of it, I recruited my favourite breaker of things, Jen, to help.

  There are no "before" pictures to show so imagine there's this big room where a woodstove used to sit. If you're familiar with woodstoves you'll know they need to be surrounded by fireproof wall and floor materials. The previous owners decided, for reasons unknown, that "fireproof" meant "bombproof". Also, for reasons unknown, they decided the stove should be elevated eighteen inches above the basement's concrete floor. At this point it's important to know our suspicion this guy (it's a guy because a woman would ask how to do it properly so would not end up with such a monstrosity) was in construction as he had access to a raft of building materials.

  He started by building a clay brick wall, six feet down each of the corner walls, floor to ceiling. Then he placed concrete blocks, laid flat, over a six-by-six foot quarter-circle in the corner. Atop this he poured two and a half inches of concrete. On top of that he laid two layers of the same clay brick. To finish it off he took more of the clay brick, laid on end, and built an apron around the front face of this agglomeration to try and make it pretty. If you're doing the math that's about three cubic yards of brick and concrete just to have a fireproof spot for the wood stove. Extreme overkill? Given all he needed to do was tile about a hundred square feet of wall and floor, I think maybe yes.

  Remember David Letterman's "stupid pet tricks"? My late friend, John, who ran the building inspection department in a large suburb of Toronto, constantly came across stupid homeowner tricks and told me about them over a beer. I would ask why they did the stupid thing (because I needed to know) and he would say with a sad smile, "Why is hard." Well, the thing in David's basement was a stupid homeowner trick. Why was hard.

  So, after pulling down the drywalled ceiling so I can do some re-wiring next week, Jen and I went to work demolishing the equivalent of a small house's worth of foundation material. For those of you in the studio audience who wonder why we go to the gym... (make sure you turn up the sound for the whole effect)

  Jackhammer, sledge hammer, crowbar and broken fingernails were all employed in the task but, together, we beat the bastard. This is a small sample of the debris field.

  We could have used this as a first responder training centre. David already has a collie so we could ask Daisy if Jimmy was in the well. Look it up if you just got that "what the hell is he talking about" look on your face. Completely exhausted we left David and his friend Luke to clean up the mess.

  They did a great job and now it's on to removing the raised floor and a couple of walls this week before I start building. I'm feeling like it might be time to buy the economy size bottle of Advil...

  After Thursday we'll be back at Jen's for a bit then back downtown to a condo in the heart of Toronto's waterfront area before we head off to a house in Toronto's east end where we'll be until the end of the year. The plan is to have David's basement completed by December so Penny and I can head off to sunnier climes for the winter. That's the plan... we'll see how it goes.

  Stay tuned as I'll keep you all posted on the renovation as we turn this sow's ear into a silk purse.

Cheers!

Kelowna

   If you read the title you'll know where we've been the past week and a bit. Yes, beautiful Kelowna, BC. We've been staying in a house on top of a hill beside Okanagan Lake with two dogs and a cat. It's a pretty spot and it's the perfect time of year to be here. The weather's been great and the summer crowds are gone.

  Our trip west was interesting, to say the least. We had an early flight from Toronto that never got off the ground, literally. When we pushed back from the gate a sound issued from beneath our seats that was reminiscent of when the differential on my 1972 Triumph TR6 blew up, spewing gears all over the road. After a half hour the pilot informed us the splurfengang was moofing and we were going back to the gate so we could get on a different plane.

  It's important to note this plane had just come from the hangar -- I'm assuming it was there for maintenance. I guess someone forgot to tighten the flimflaggen or maybe the plane had a sign on it saying "Don't take this one". I'm guessing the half-filled coffee cup and monkey wrench lying on the floor in front of the plane wasn't a big enough clue to deter anyone. In any case it was broken.

  Our next plane was scheduled to leave ninety minutes later and it almost did. We boarded while they were rushing to load food carts from catering. I guess they didn't get finished as we sat there for an hour until they were done. Bottom line, we arrived four hours later than expected.

  This didn't really bother us since the homeowners informed us they weren't leaving until five o'clock. Of course, if they'd have told us that earlier, rather than their original estimate of noon, we'd have booked a later flight and saved ourselves the ridiculously early morning drive to the airport. As it turns out our late arrival gave us the perfect excuse for not spending the six hours with them our planned arrival time and their updated departure would have entailed. Instead, we spent an interminable ninety minutes making small talk with them, half of which was drowned out by their nine year-old's piano practice.

  But, back to the airport. As I said, we arrived late so I went off to get the rental car while Penny waited for baggage to arrive from the nether regions of the terminal. The nice man at the counter who, because we were late, didn't have the car we were supposed to get asked if I minded driving an SUV. With visions of some smallish thing like a RAV4 or Bronco I agreed and headed off back to the luggage carousel with giant key fobs in hand.

  After a short wait our bags appeared and we prepared to head off in search of our vehicle when a voice cried out "Penny!" from behind us. Actually the voice cried out twice as Penny  ignored it the first time, figuring no one in Kelowna would be looking for her. Surprise! It turns out my cousin Paul had arrived at the same time and was heading off to see his brother and nieces in the Kelowna area. Small world, as they say.

  Anyway, off to the parking lot we trudged, only to find our little SUV was the size of one of those dump trucks you see hauling tons of rocks out of strip mines. It was big enough to put two Hondas inside. It should have had one of those "This vehicle makes wide right turns" signs on the back. My friend Bill would have been right at home in it though as it was the same size as his Secret Service Suburban. Black too. Anyway, it was a Ford so I'm sure it was bigger... because they are. It's the kind of vehicle you need to park at the far end of the lot because you can't fit it into a regular parking space without knocking the door mirrors off of the neighbouring vehicles. We only had it for the day so we climbed aboard and prepared to roll over any cars that got in our way.

  When we arrived at the house we met our three charges, a six year-old Siberian Husky named Willow,

... a one year-old Welsh Corgi named Buffy,

... and a three year-old Bengal named Fezzik.

  I asked the cat if he wanted a peanut. He looked at me like I wanted to start a land war in Asia. If you don't get this look up "Fezzik" in Google.

  The animals are cute, friendly and entertaining. Buffy and Fezzik chase each other around the house and wrestle, barks and hisses echoing through the atrium-like living room.

  Willow's a sweetheart who just wants to lie in the sun and look charming. They're all pretty cool and Willow has ascended my list of favourite dogs, currently number two with a bullet, as they say.

  We're on top of a ridge that overlooks canyons and forests on one side and Okanagan Lake on the other. During last year's wildfires, which were concentrated in West Kelowna across the lake, enough embers blew across to start fires very close to our neighbourhood resulting in an evacuation. You can see evidence of it all around us.

  There are numerous old logging roads around us that have been converted to hiking trails. They're very scenic walks and the dogs love being out on them with us.

  At this point I should mention the reason we came across the country for a house sit. If you weren't following along before I'll reintroduce our friends from Yellowknife, Bryan (above) and Sheila.

  We try to meet up with them during our travels whenever possible as the NWT is a bit off the beaten path. Last September we stopped at their Calgary condo for a few days and this time they made the trek southwest to meet up with us here. We spent a lot of our time with them this week hanging out at the house eating, drinking, playing games and catching up.

  Like us, Bryan and Sheila are frequent travelers and they rarely celebrate their wedding anniversary at home so coming to Kelowna for their thirteenth seemed a natural. I mean, we flew four thousand kilometres for their wedding so it's only fitting they had to come twenty-five hundred kilometres to celebrate their anniversary with us, right? On Tuesday night we headed off to the Old Vines restaurant at Quails' Gate Winery for dinner.

  The food was terrific as were the wines and the scenery. It was a special evening and we're already looking forward to our next visit with them when they come to Toronto at the end of December.

  By Thursday they were on their way home leaving Penny and I on our own for the rest of our stay. Not ones to let an opportunity for some exploring go to waste we set about making plans for the remaining four days in the Okanagan.

  Our first stop was Okanagan Spirits Craft Distillery. Yes. More drinking. What choice did we have? We sampled some of their best grog including absinthe and, yes, absinthe makes the heart grow fonder. Sorry. Their main outlet and distillery is in Vernon and, since Paul had invited us up there for Friday, decided to put off any purchases until then.

  Friday morning we headed north up the Okanagan Valley on a very scenic drive along many charming lakes until we reached Vernon.

  We met up with Paul and our first stop took us to Planet Bee, a great place to stop if you're interested in honey. We bought a couple of different varieties and sampled some mead which they make using their honey. Well, this is no ordinary mead... as if mead were in any way ordinary. Pretty spectacular stuff so we bought some to take home. No idea if it will make it home and we might just end up drinking it all here, in this home.

  With honey done and dusted we headed off to meet Paul's nieces, Rachel and Arielle, for lunch downtown. Now, since Paul is my cousin that makes Rachel and Arielle my cousins too! New family. Cool! Now let me attempt to correctly define the relationships. Paul's grandmother on his father's side was my grandmother's (on my mother's side) sister. That makes him my second cousin. So far so good. As far as I can tell Rachel and Arielle are second cousins once removed. I mentioned to Paul he could also be a second cousin once removed if he left by the exit door. He stayed so he remains my second cousin, not removed. Did I mention it's cool discovering new family? We'll have to come back. There may be more family hiding out here.

  We bid the ladies adieu and headed off to the main outlet of the distillery, drank ourselves into a moderate stupor tasting all the different offerings, bought a few then walked some of it off on the Vernon Rail Trail.

  Our final weekend here started with a wander around the local Farmers' Market and I have to say it's a very impressive one at that. The assortment of fresh, local produce and interesting things to eat was a welcome change from the tired offerings and kitschy crafts we've seen at most North American markets. I'm not including markets we've seen outside N.A. as nothing we've seen on this continent can compare to them.

  Sunday morning, as we were preparing to leave for an afternoon of cycling on the Myra Canyon rail trail, Fezzik decided to show us his displeasure at not letting him outside.

  Scratch two houseplants. The homeowners call the cat "Little Shit" because of stuff like this. "What did that Little Shit do now?", seems to be a popular refrain here. He's a very smart cat so I have to respect that. For instance, he's figured out how to get the robot vac to start.

  Alas, he is such a little shit. When we leave we won't miss him very much. On the other hand I'd gladly take Willow home with me. Buffy, not so much.

  Anyway, after Penny cleaned up the mess we headed off for a beautiful afternoon of cycling. The Myra Canyon rail trail, a twelve kilometre (twenty-four return) stretch of the old Kettle Valley Railroad line, spans trestles and tunnels while it winds through the Myra Canyon. Since there was only one e-bike available I arranged for Penny to take it and I assumed the harder job of actually self-propelling myself along the route. It's a rail line so it's pretty level so not the worst thing in the world.

  It's a beautiful ride and I heartily recommend it to anyone who comes out this way during the spring and fall. It gets really hot in the summer so maybe not such a good idea then.

  The trail includes eighteen trestles like these above and two tunnels.

  Since it's been cool the past few nights the fall colours are on full display which made it a very vibrant scene.

  Also, we were up about four thousand feet above Kelowna so some spectacular views of the city, Okanagan Lake and the surrounding hills were available.

  Tomorrow we board the red eye flight back to T.O. and on to our next sit across the street from Lake Ontario in Toronto's Long Branch neighbourhood. We'll be charged with caring for another border collie named Scout so much ball-throwing and trail walking will ensue. I'll be starting work on son David's basement so much of the dog care will fall to Penny. I'm sure it won't be a chore in such a beautiful location.

  I'll miss Kelowna as it's a terrific spot amongst the mountains. There's skiing all around us in the winter and great hiking when the snow is gone. With wineries, microbreweries and distilleries there's always something interesting with which to wet your whistle and a cosmopolitan restaurant vibe as well.

  I won't miss Fezzik.

The Blame Game

   As you will remember from my last post, the dog at our current abode is somewhat of a challenge. Just a couple of days ago I had to, for the third time in ten days, restrain him from killing a fellow canine that had the misfortune of coming within earshot. This time it was the other dog's owner who was entirely to blame, letting his pet wander the streets unleashed. With Magnum, "unleashed" translates to "dinner".

  Although his behaviour is inexcusable from a dog-training perspective we were made aware that he might be a challenge when we accepted the assignment. Why did we accept it? The dates and location were ideal and far outweighed any concerns we had about the dog. We like to blame the owner for not properly socializing Magnum but we happily accepted the responsibility when we agreed to stay here.

  I'm focused on "blame" today as it seems to be the central focus in all our lives these days and I want to know how we got here. Think about it. While you do that I'll continue.

  Yesterday Penny and I went to dinner with friends. While we were driving I spotted a badge on a Mazda declaring it had "Skyactiv Technology". Some kind of earth-shattering thing only Mazda was capable of engineering, right? Look it up. I'll wait...

  Your Google search likely told you that brilliant Mazda engineers employ this technology to increase engine output while lowering emissions and increasing fuel economy. This concept is so revolutionary that the company trademarked it and plastered it on their products. Of course, no one else does this, right? Oh.

  Since the 1970's the EPA has mandated all car manufacturers who sell in the U.S. to lower emissions and raise fuel economy with ever-increasingly stringent standards. Also, since the 1990's all car manufacturers have striven to significantly increase engine output to compensate for the reduction in horsepower which results from lowering emissions and increasing fuel economy.

  The short story here is Mazda isn't doing anything different than every other car manufacturer in the world. They just thought it would give them a marketing edge by making it appear they were doing something magical and wonderful. They're doing what every business needs to do in order to be successful, that is, creating a perception that their product is better than their competition.

  All auto companies are using similar technology to accomplish the same goals as Mazda but they're not advertising it. It would be like saying "our car has four wheels". Are people buying Mazdas because of Skyactiv Technology? I hope not, but I suspect the answer is a resounding "yes". Who's to blame for this? It's not Mazda.

  Speaking of cars, Ontario's smiling Premier, Doug Ford, this week announced his intention to build a tunnel under the entire city, from east to west, to resolve the gridlock issue. What a great idea! The next day a knowledgeable engineer did a cost analysis and said it would require about $55 billion to accomplish this Herculean task.

  Let's remember it would be the government building this so, using virtually every other capital project as an example, we can assume the price will be closer to $100 billion by the time it's done. But there's more. How long will it take to tunnel about eighty kilometers under a thriving, gridlocked city? Ten years? Twenty? I'm going to go with twenty-five, knowing full well it will be at least thirty. Thirty years of construction, exacerbating the current traffic nightmare in the name of progress. If you think I'm out of line just Google "big dig Boston".

  Did Dougie actually ask anyone if this was a good idea or did he dream it up as a pre-election cookie to throw at the electorate since his $225 million beer-in-corner-stores gambit landed with a thud? Is adding another ten lanes of underground traffic going to solve our problem? Hardly. Give me $100 billion and I'll give you ten other proposals and all of them will make more sense.

  For example, you could buy 50 billion cheeseburgers at McDonalds. That's about seven for every person on the planet. Now, no one thinks babies should be eating cheeseburgers and let's assume there's a billion babies. More cheeseburgers for the rest of us! Thanks Doug!

  But seriously folks, what about trains and ferries? What about re-purposing the underutilized toll road that already exists? What about flying Google cars? What about molecular transporters like Star Trek? I threw those last two in because they'll likely be available long before this tunnel is finished.

  Who's to blame for this idiocy? Not Ford, that's for sure. He's only Dougie being Dougie. Advertising helped people decide to vote for him. He was Skyactiv. The electorate allowed itself to be conned and continues to do so.

  Governments exist to do the things for their people that those people can't do for themselves. People that think they can run the government become politicians. Maybe their motives are altruistic or maybe they're just power-hungry but they put themselves out there, ostensibly, as part of the solution. That's huge. Somebody has to do it and these people are volunteering. Good on ya. Really. We should applaud them and give them our support because it's a dirty job and someone has to do it.

  Oh wait. In order to win elections we want them to tell us why they're better than their opponents and we believe them, even though we just know our problems can't be solved as easily as they make it sound. They Skyactiv us. Bastards.

  There's an election coming up in the U.S. in five weeks and a significant portion of the electorate thinks a lying, misogynistic, incoherent con man and felon is the best choice to be the Leader Of The Free World. He lost the 2020 election to Joe Biden, who has overseen a successful  economic recovery on the heels of a once in a hundred years pandemic that shuttered the world for most of a year. Biden's reward: Let's Go Brandon. If you don't know what that means, ask Google. Americans think the economy is the biggest issue when, in reality, it's ignorance.

  Canada will go to the polls sometime in the next year. It looks like the incumbent Liberals will be shellacked by the redneck Conservatives. I say "redneck" because this isn't the Progressive Conservative party of yore. It might as well be called Republicans North as they use the same tactics and spew the same vitriol as Mr. Trump's cronies. Mr. Poilievre might as well change his name to Mini Me.

  For the past nine years we've had Justin Trudeau, who's heart seems to be in the right place but isn't very effective at actually accomplishing things. I guess that's supposed to justify the F**k Trudeau signs brandished on diesel smoke-billowing pickup trucks driven by those selfsame rednecks complaining about freedom. Freedom to do what? I want to see those imbeciles try that in China, or North Korea, or Hungary, or Russia, or any number of countries where people don't have the freedom to express their opinions freely. Let's Go Brandon... north.

  What's Trudeau's biggest sin, according to Mini Me? The carbon tax. "Axe The Tax" is the rallying cry. Except. Why is there a carbon tax? First, we're not alone. Many countries have started adding tariffs to imported products originating in countries who don't have carbon taxes. That means our products would become less competitive and reduce our exports.

  Economists, who know a lot more about this stuff than your average voter, say carbon taxes are the most effective way to change buying decisions. The additional cost attached to high carbon footprint products encourages people to buy less ecologically damaging products. Electric cars rather than gasoline-powered. Heat pumps instead of oil furnaces. Like that. But wait. The feds give us all a rebate at the end of the year that returns most of what the average consumer spent on the tax. The difference is minimal and not worth complaining about... or is it?

  The carbon tax is compounded. Every step of the manufacturing process pays it. Farmers have to buy fuel and fertilizer. Products have to be transported through manufacturing and  distribution chains and then to retailers. I could go on but the point is we end up paying so much more than the rebate we receive.

  It shows up in everything we buy, especially groceries. People blame greedy corporations for high grocery prices. Canadians have been complaining that they're being ripped off by Loblaws because they're making obscene profits. No they're not. Supermarket chains only earn 2-3% net profit. Check the financial reports for all the major grocery chains in 2019 and 2023 and you'll see it's consistent. Loblaws makes more money because they have more outlets. It's the same percentage of a much larger number than their competitors. Then why are prices so much higher than they were five years ago?

  Well, there's the aforementioned carbon tax which is compounded through every step of the production and distribution chain. The minimum wage has increased by 20% which is applied to every person working in all those parts of the chain. Interest rates increased by 75% over that period impacting every entity that borrows money. In short, a host of factors led to retail price increases because no corporation absorbs those costs without passing them on.

  Getting back to blame, who's fault is all this? Is it Justin's? Joe's? No. It's us. We demanded our politicians do something about greenhouse gases. We wanted a higher minimum wage. We overheated the housing market after COVID by spiking demand, forcing the central banks to raise interest rates to cool the market. That spike in house prices and interest rates led to fewer people able to afford real estate and forced them to rent. Increased demand for rental properties caused rents to spike as well. We demanded products when supply chains weren't functioning properly and were willing to pay higher prices rather than do without until things returned to normal.

  And now we cry at our politicians to fix all this. Where's the affordable housing? Why are prices so high? Why can't we afford rent? Why is gasoline so expensive. Whining. We demanded these things and now we have to live with the consequences. It's unreasonable to expect politicians to fix the things that market forces and our collective demands have caused. We have an unsustainably high standard of living.

  Blame. There's lots of blame to go around. Did anyone see this coming? I don't think anyone had COVID on their bingo card. We're living in the fallout and there's no magic Skyactiv to fix it. Any politician who says they have a solution is lying.

  Back to the dog. He's a good dog as long as there are no other dogs. There's no blame to place here. We're adults. We gathered all the available information and made an informed decision for which we accept the consequences. Remember that next time you vote.

  By the way, I have nothing personal against Mazdas. I'm sure they're fine cars. But, if I were ever to buy one I know the "Skyactiv Technology" badge would not be the deciding factor.

   Also, a shout out to my lovely wife who listens to my rants, corrects my grammar and puts me in my place when I get high and mighty. If her fingerprints weren't on these missives I doubt you'd have followed along until now.

  Thursday we wing our way off to Kelowna in search of new adventures. Stay tuned.

Cheers.

Pros and Cons

  It's mid-September and here we are in a beautiful home in that no-man's land between Aurora and Newmarket. It's technically Aurora but a 100 meter walk to the north would put us in Newmarket. Regardless, it's close to home and not Jen's house. It's not that we have anything against Jen's house but I suspect they've seen enough of Penny and me recently that a break was required, so here we are.

  Although I didn't write about it, this is our second sit in this house having spent four days here when we returned from Hawkesbury. Our charge is a rather large long-haired shepherd  named Magnum:

  He's a sweetheart but not very well trained. Since he's big and strong some wrestling is required along with some stern commands that can get his attention. Walking him is a challenge. You see, he's not very friendly to other dogs. By "not friendly" I mean he wants to eat them. In order to walk this guy you need to look all around you to ensure you're not going to encounter something that will get him riled up.

  Take the other night for instance. There I was with the thick leather leash extended as far as it would go while he was watering a tree when, suddenly, out of the dark walks a man dressed in dark clothing with a black dog. Well, you'd have thought the guy was walking one of the dogs from the gates of Hell the way Magnum reacted. I was about an inch from being pulled over before I recovered in time to grab his collar as he lunged at the unsuspecting dog and owner. Disaster averted, but not before visions of ambulances and lawyers passed before my eyes.

  When there are no dogs around to set him off he's great although walking him can be a chore when he wants to sniff every tree trunk on a street that's just littered with them. Anyway, I'll come back to Magnum and his house but I need to digress a bit before we continue.

  I've entitled this installment "Pros and Cons" because this place is a perfect illustration of all that's good and bad about what we do. We've been at this almost sixteen months now and we're constantly asked if we're still enjoying it, how do we do this thing and how long will we continue doing this thing. Therefore, I think it's time for all of you to get a peek under the hood.

  If you've been a loyal follower of this blog you'll know we've been untethered and have gone largely where we've pleased. That makes arranging house sits easy. I just peruse the listings and we have conversations like, "How do you feel about Arizona?" or "Here's a nice sit in Panama" or some such place and Penny's response is usually something like, "When do we leave?" Easy. We've been able to be very selective about the location, house, pets and owners, taking only those assignments that satisfy our criteria for a pleasant stay.

  For example, we prefer to stay in houses rather than apartments. If they're close to water that's a big checkmark. Sometimes we ask the owners if they mind if we have visitors stay over. They've all been ok with that. We also look for things like a hot tub, swimming pool, bbq grill and fully-equipped kitchen. Often we're less particular about the house itself if it's in a location we want to visit. If we're traveling overseas it's nice if the owners let us use their car, like in Cyprus. Again, big checkmark.

  The animals are another decision point. We've applied for sits with cats, dogs, fish, rodents  and horses. We're ok with all of that unless the location is one where we want to be out of the house all day sightseeing. In that case animals that require less attention, like cats, are preferred.

  Finally, there's the scheduling issue. To minimize stays at Jen's or hotel stays while on the road I carefully schedule our sits to dovetail and minimize that downtime. I'll only look at jobs that have dates that mesh smoothly with our timelines. Thirty years as a project manager comes in handy here and it's worked well, mostly.

  That all changed in the spring when we decided to stay near home through the summer while the grandchildren were off school. That plan got extended to the end of this year when son David asked me to help him renovate his basement.

  Since agreeing to stay around home planning our housesitting schedule has become immeasurably more difficult because our selection criteria are very specific. During the summer we were a bit loose with those things because we got swimming pools and that was enough for the kids to come visit. Now that I'll be commuting to David's house on an almost daily basis I'd prefer not to be driving ninety minutes each way. Sounds like work!

  As a result, I'm trying to find us a place, or places, to cover the two and a half months from the time we return from our two weeks in Kelowna in mid-October until the end of the year somewhere in the reasonable vicinity of Newmarket/Aurora/Bradford. That means spending a couple of hours each day watching the websites we subscribe to throughout the day in case something pops up that we like. It's a tough order but I'm confident something will work out. Of course, you know that means I'll be driving ninety minutes each way.

  Ok, so what's involved in doing this house sitting thing?

  Let's say we've found a place that suits us. We apply to the owners, who can see our profile and the ton of five-star reviews we've accumulated. That means they'll likely be interested because we're exactly who they're looking for. I'm not overstating this. When people see our application it's a lock that they'll want to talk to us.

  The next step is usually a video chat, which is just like a job interview. We've aced all of those. We're pretty good at this. Really. Usually the owners like us and want us to take the assignment and that's it. Once in a while, though, we encounter homeowners that have unreasonable expectations that we feel we won't be able to meet. In those cases we respectfully decline. As I learned in business, managing expectations is the surest path to success.

  Now it's time for the actual house sit to begin.

  Some people want us to arrive a few hours or even a day early so we can get to know their pets. Spending hours chatting about nothing in particular with strangers can be uncomfortable for me so I generally don't look forward to this part. Penny enjoys it. Just ask her kids who have stood in supermarket checkout lines listening to her discuss any of a thousand topics with the person in line behind her.

  Once the owners leave it's time to get settled. Unpack, buy groceries, wander the house and grounds to get familiar with our surroundings, read and re-read the instructions, get to know the animals. In every house I scan the network to see if there are cameras. Many houses have exterior cameras but no one is supposed to enable interior cameras while we're there. In virtually all cases we've been left with specific instructions as to care of the animals, house, property, etc. Sometimes they can be incredibly specific, like the ones about Magnum's food.

  This guy's on a raw diet and I have to concoct a bizarre combination of these various gross smelling things for his meals. Breakfast is different than dinner. Every other day I'm to add a sardine to his dinner. On every second Thursday I'm to stand on my head and spin plates on my toes. You get the picture.

  Now, as I said, this stuff smells disgusting -- a lot like what it's going to smell like when he's done with it. I don't even think he likes it. I have to coax him to get up off the floor to come over and investigate this putrid mess. He eats it but I'm sure I've never seen a dog eat with less enthusiasm. Anyway, I'm sure it's good for him... just like cod liver oil is good for you.

  Throughout our house sitting adventures we've been asked to do some weird things. Put one cat's food in the kitchen and the other cat's food by the pool table. Don't use the sponge for human dishes to clean the dog bowl. Instead of putting the cat's food where the dog can't get it, put the food on the floor and hold onto the dog while the cat eats. Like that.

  The bulk of each of our stays is pretty standard stuff, just in a different location all the time. We shop for food, cook meals, care for the animals, do the laundry and housecleaning and see the sights. We watch TV, read books, surf the 'net, solve puzzles... all the same kinds of things we'd do if we were home, if we had one.

  Finally, our last day at each place arrives and it's time to clean up. We wash the sheets and towels, make the bed, clean the bathrooms, clean the dishes and put them away, vacuum the floors, feed the animals, etc. It's like a ballet, carefully timed and choreographed to accomplish the most in the least amount of time. In almost every case the owners' reviews have said how clean and tidy the house was when they returned. We rock.

  Pros and cons, right? Nice houses, great neighbourhoods, scenic areas, cute pets. Some pain in the ass other stuff. Most of the owners have been very nice people and we would be friends with many of them if we lived closer. Some of them have not but, thankfully, it's a very small number. We've done seventeen house sits so far and, thankfully, most of them have been simple and fun. While we're doing this we're not paying for rent, property taxes, utilities, house repairs, Internet service or home insurance so our expenses are very low.

  As you know, we love to travel and that's what we've been doing. The difference between the way we travel and the way everyone else travels is we stay in a great house for free. No hotels. No AirBnB. No camping. We just have to get there and pay for our food and whatever else we want to do while we're there. It's pretty cool and we're going to do it for at least a few more months.

  So. I hope I've answered the questions most people have been asking us. If you have other questions please fire away. Maybe it will generate another installment. Since we're not being tourists these days I'm finding it a bit of a challenge thinking of things to write about. Our next sit, in Kelowna, starts October 3. Until then I remain your intrepid adventurer.

Cheers!

New York Times Restaurant Review

   Ok. It's not but I'll bet the title attracted your attention. Right? I promised a compendium of restaurant reviews from all our travels during the past fifteen months so, since I'm compelled to keep my promises, here it is whether you like it or not. I'm inclined to present this chronologically as that's how my memory works, so here goes.

Delphos, OH

  To be honest, we didn't actually eat at Cabo Mexican Restaurant during any of our housesitting excursions although we intended to. We aimed ourselves here on our first day out of Newmarket because we'd eaten at this place back in 2018 during an overnight stop while driving home with the 1965 Corvair convertible we'd purchased in Atlanta. When we tried to return in 2023 it happened to be on Memorial Day and it was closed so we ended up at Pizza Hut, which wasn't nearly as good.

  The reason we wanted to return was our first experience was fantastic. The food was authentically Mexican, the service was impeccable, the prices were very reasonable and we drank a pitcher of margaritas.

  I feel, maybe, our opinion of the place was influenced by the last item on the list which we also shared with our waiter. That shred of doubt was what brought us back five years later. Since we didn't get a chance to prove this place's worth one way or the other I guess it will have to wait for us to have another opportunity, or for one of you to venture into deepest, darkest Ohio and give it a try.

Prescott, AZ

  Ok. You've driven a looooong way. You arrived, unpacked, grabbed a few hours sleep and now you're ready for a superlative breakfast. Get your ass down to the Bistro St. Michael in downtown Prescott, AZ and order the Brisket Benedict. This may be the most wonderful thing ever invented to start your day. It's got grilled poblanos, avocado, brisket, hollandaise, potatoes and... eggs. The coffee wasn't great so, when you're done here, walk a couple of blocks to burn off some of the calories and check in to the Wild Iris Coffee House.

  Much coffee is here. No. Much terrific coffee is here. And other baked thingies which are almost as good as the coffee. It's a cozy little spot with great music in the background and a shady patio just outside. I think we went to this place three times while we were there and each time was better than the last.

San Francisco, CA

  To be honest, we didn't really eat in any great restaurants here. We did take a wonderful food tour in the Mission District which exposed us to a couple of noteworthy places. The food we ate there was on the street so, as I said, not in. The first place we hit, called Craftsman and Wolves, had a neat breakfast item called the Rebel Within:

  It's a muffin with a soft-cooked egg inside surrounded by pork sausage bits, asiago and parmesan cheeses and scallions. Yes. It's as good as it sounds. A great start to the day, which was followed by a stop in the Dandelion Chocolate Shop. Not technically a restaurant, but if you think of chocolate as life then it offers sustenance for spiritual survival. We bought some and ended up taking the next two months to eat it, nibbling at a piece from one country one week and one from another country the next.

Crescent City, CA

  If ever you find yourself wandering up the northern California coast without clothes because some asshole broke into your car in San Francisco and stole everything you'll likely find yourself in Crescent City. Two things: 1) don't go to the Walmart expecting to buy socks and underwear because all that stuff is under lock and key and I'm pretty sure you don't want to ask for help locating underwear and 2) go to Kin Thao for Thai food. This little place, located in what passes for a downtown core in this burg, is a quality joint. Food? Great. Price? Also great. Service? Ditto. We came hungry and left happy. Without underwear.

Vancouver, BC

  Another food tour, this time in Chinatown. Once again we ate something terrific on the street, the maybe world famous steamed buns from New Town Bakery. The best. It was followed shortly thereafter by dim sum at Floata Seafood Restaurant. Also the best. Wait. Two "bests"? Ok, let me reduce your expectations so there's no potential disappointment after jumping on a plane, flying to Vancouver and finding these places are no better than Wong's Chicken Ball Emporium in Poughkeepsie, NY. If you find yourself already in Vancouver and your intention is to head to Chinatown, you could do a lot worse than eat at these places. There. Expectations set accordingly.

Idaho Falls, ID

  There's only one reason you'd find yourself here and that's because you're on your way to Yellowstone National Park, which we were. Next to the Econo Lodge is Grandpa's Southern BBQ. Go there. It's run by a family from Alabama and it's real BBQ. The husband runs the smoker with a deft touch, the wife waits tables and Mama sits behind the register making sure the place runs on a paying basis. She's also responsible for handing out a free slice of pie if she likes you. She liked us. We got two! More food than we could comfortably eat, so we just got uncomfortable and waddled back to the motel to lie down in a food coma afterwards. We'd go there again, except Idaho's a long way to go for dinner.

Minnesota

  When we stayed in Montgomery, MN we spent a lot of time traveling around to see all the surrounding towns and villages. We saw the Defeat of Jesse James Days at Northfield, hit the Spam Museum in Austin, wandered around Minneapolis for an afternoon, you get the picture. 

  The best food experience we had was at a BBQ place in Lonsdale called Smoke. It's actually a microbrewery and BBQ which pairs two of life's treasures in one place. The choice of beers is extensive and tasty and the food is sublime. We still have the $10 off card we won at Trivia Night and we're planning to return when the homeowners in Montgomery invite us back.

  A local midwest specialty we discovered in Minnesota was Beer Cheese Soup. After a round of golf in Fairbault (Fairbow), MN, we were looking for a bite to eat and happened upon the Depot Bar and Grill. The aforementioned concoction was on the chalkboard and, since it combined two of my favourite foods, I clicked on "adventure" and ordered a bowl. Well, I wasn't disappointed. It immediately became one of my favourite soups, so much so that I attempted to make it when we returned home. I was less successful than the Depot's chef so I guess that means we'll have to return there too!

The South

  Now this one's a bit weird (not Donald Trump and JD Vance weird) but I have to include it if I'm to satisfy my duties here. If you're traveling an interstate highway in any southern state it behooves you to stop at Buc-ees (hyphen is theirs not mine), a giant pit stop where you can buy gas, food, souvenirs and all kinds of weird Christian-type memento thingies ("thank you Jesus for helping me dry the dishes"). Ignore all that and head straight to the brisket sandwiches. Because there's nowhere to eat them you end up sitting in your car, napkin spread out on your lap to cover the spots where you just know that BBQ sauce is going to plop, and pig out on one of the best sandwiches you'll ever eat. Trust me on this.

Hutchinson Island, FL

  Imagine you're lying on a beach, soaking up some rays, listening to the surf roll in, the gulls squawking overhead.

  What can complement such a scene most effectively? If your answer was a dozen buck-a-shuck oysters and a $2 Yuengling beer, you win! Just down the road from the place we stayed, across from the beach, sits a little neighbourhood pub called The Magic Oyster that offers just that. You sit on the patio and, anytime from 3-6 pm, you can slurp oysters and quaff beers to your heart's content and leave yourself lots of money to head around the corner for an ice cream cone afterwards. This is not an experience you get tired of fast.

  Also, if you're in the mood for pizza, which I always am, there's a place across the Intracoastal Waterway in Jensen Beach called Original Santos Wood Fired Pizza. It's quaint, as in Chianti bottles with candles in them on the table tops and a bad singer at a cheap organ bellowing "That's Amore" at the top of his cigarette smoke-coated lungs. Ok, maybe not "quaint"... more like "cheesy". But, hey, it's a pizza joint so I guess "cheesy" isn't a bad thing. The pizza, however, needs it's own song. Chewy, tasty crust, sweet, tangy sauce, high quality toppings. I dare you to do better than this place. Oh, and there's always a lineup to get in so order online, pick it up and eat at home. You'll still wait when you get there but it's worth it.

Paphos, Cyprus

  Tavernas are everywhere in Cyprus and Greece. Everywhere you go you can find passable souvlaki, spanakopita and moussaka... and french fries. Finding a place that takes pride in their food can be a challenge but we were directed to a little place that satisfied our requirements for good food and service, reasonably priced. If you're in Mesogi, at the north end of Paphos, head to To Tavernaki. The menu is interesting, the food is prepared and served with care and the service is friendly and warm. The place is always jammed so I think the locals agree.

Isthmia, Greece

  The Corinth Canal dates back a while and one of the oddities about it are two submersible bridges. I won't bore you with the details as you can Google as well as I. The point is, we wanted to see one in action so we camped out at the Isthmia Bridge Cafe for lunch. We spent two hours waiting for the bridge to do its thing while the old woman who ran the place served us local beer and the best souvlaki on the face of the Earth. I may be exaggerating, but not by much. By the way, the bridge never moved since as, we found out after lunch, the canal was closed for repairs. Stupid tourists. But the souvlaki made it all worthwhile.

Delphi, Greece

  There we were in Delphi, preparing to visit with the Oracle the next morning, wondering where to eat. The nice lady where we were staying advised us the best restaurant in town was a short walk away and we should just go there. So we did.

  It's important to know, at this point, that the town of Delphi is built on the side of a mountain. Everywhere you go in town you get amazing views down through the surrounding hills to the Gulf of Corinth. And that was the view we were presented with when we sat down to dinner that evening at Taverna Vakhos. To say the food was superb is an understatement. This is a farm to table establishment so everything they serve is produced by local farmers. It's fresh, original and amazing. Go to Delphi and eat there. I mean it.

Ottawa, ON

  That brings me to our most recent memorable meal, during our stay in Hawkesbury, ON. While in Ottawa for things touristy Penny and I went to Aroma Meze to celebrate our 42nd anniversary. It's an unassuming little place occupying a house on a residential street downtown. It's warm and softly lit and is filled with tables laden with all manner of meze being enjoyed by people who love great food. If you're not familiar with it, meze (pronounced mezz-eh) is the Greek/Cypriot version of tapas, that is, small plates.

  We had a friendly, knowledgeable waiter who helped us with our choices, brought us fine wine and set fire to our Ouzo Shrimps.

  That, alone, earned him a generous tip as I love it when people set fire to things. We enjoyed everything we ate, listed our favourites, drank the wine, ate dessert and left, hours later, satisfied and happy. That's the definition of a great meal.

  And with that my screed comes to an end. I promised a compendium of fine dining and I hope you think I delivered. I know many of these establishments are off the beaten track for most people but I urge you, should you darken any of the varied spots around the globe I've covered here, do yourself a favour and stop in for a bite. You won't be disappointed.

Salut!

A Vacation Disguised as a House Sit

   Back on the road again, we are, although it's a relatively short jaunt compared to much of our travels. This week we've been in the delightful town of Hawkesbury, ON, located on the Ottawa River midway between Ottawa and Montreal.

  Although we're located in Ontario we are, quite literally, surrounded by French-speaking people. Across the river is Quebec. Twenty kilometers southeast along the road to Montreal is the Quebec border. Almost all the businesses here have signs in French. Street signs are bilingual with French always first. We could be in Quebec but we're not. Ontario seems to bend over backwards to demonstrate there are two official languages. And that, my friends, raises an interesting point.

  In Quebec, the provincial (or national, as they prefer) government has mandated all signs are to be in French only. English is verboten. If you want to speak to a government employee for any reason you must do so in French. Only. Foreign students wanting to study in Quebec must demonstrate proficiency in French. There are exceptions for indigenous people and new immigrants who have been there up to six months. For a country having two official languages this seems, not only draconian, but illegal.

  Of course, in order to get Quebec to sign onto the Constitution forty years ago the "notwithstanding" clause was added and that makes it all ok. Just not for us. We don't like feeling unwelcome in our own country, as we noted back when we traveled through Quebec to get to Nova Scotia, so we'll keep our tourist dollars to ourselves, thank you. And that's all I have to say about that.

  Our two charges here are Dhillon and Pippen, two very friendly cats. Pippen, in particular, wants our undivided attention whenever she's in the house but runs away when she's outside.

  Dhillon is more independent and is quite happy to reduce his contact with us to thirty or forty seconds per day. I'm sure he likes us but he very definitely doesn't need us.

  After we arrived and got settled we decided an afternoon round of golf would be a nice diversion so we took ourselves off to the local club de golf. It seemed like a nice spot. The staff we encountered were friendly, the fairways, tees and greens were in beautiful shape, the course layout was challenging and nice to look at, so off we went to smack the little ball around.

  Unfortunately, everything from the amateurish behaviour of the greenskeeping staff, to the slow play of the other golfers, to a bunch of turkeys pretending to play golf in front of us did nothing but generate frustration and, sometimes, anger.

  I wish I could have done more than just leave a scathing review on Google but one of our neighbours is sure the owners don't care what I think. When Penny told him where we had played he just shook his head and told us our experience was not unusual. Too bad. It was certainly a nice looking place.

  Later that day Jen, James and our two grandsons, Lucas and Ben, arrived. There's lots of space here so we organized this sit in order to accommodate them for a few days while they visit Ottawa. As a result, we've had a very busy time here. Since they arrived we've taken a tour of the Senate, visited the Canadian Museum of History, done a "ghost tour", visited the Canadian Aviation Museum and tried an escape room at the Diefenbunker. Yesterday, they went to  Montreal so Ben could say he ate poutine there. Because we've been there and done that we stayed home. Also, going to Montreal involves spending money in Quebec, but I already said all I have to say about that.

  Our visit to the Senate started on an odd note. I had taken a tour of it and the Parliamentary Library when I was here with my parents in the 1960's so I knew what to expect, except I didn't. As we approached Parliament Hill Jen insisted we cross the street as the tour she booked directed us away from where I thought we should go. It turns out extensive restoration of the Centre Block, where both the House of Commons and Senate are located, has been underway since 2019. As a result, both have been relocated to temporary quarters until completion, expected in another ten years.

  The Senate tour was aimed at foreign tourists so a lot of time was spent describing our system of government, followed by explanations on the import of this august body of wise politicos. Knowing this is a load of crap, I wanted to engage her on the subject of Senate reform since the Senate is simply a rubber stamp for whatever government is in power and serves only as a place where they can gift their unelected political cronies a cushy job and a government pension. I'm sure the nice tourists didn't want to hear me pontificate on things political so I kept my mouth shut. I did, however, enjoy ten mirthful minutes sharing funny faces with a three year-old while the guide was explaining the nothing that transpires in one of the committee rooms.

  On to the Museum of History, which used to be known as the Museum of Civilization.

  I have no idea why they changed the name, so don't ask. In any case, it's a comprehensive collection of all things uniquely Canadian that have contributed to our culture and civilization. Since I'm an old guy and learned about all this in Grade 4, it all seemed a bit old hat. The big takeaway for me was that a lot of what was considered "history" is shit I lived through. Yes. Old. Anyway, it's a beautiful building designed by Douglas Cardinal and the exhibits are carefully curated and thoroughly explained. It is a truly wonderful museum if you don't mind sauntering through thousands of square feet dedicated to all the stuff you learned about when you were ten. Trust me when I say your feet won't thank you for slogging through it.

  The end of the day delivered a reward for enduring tired feet, bored neurons and rubbery cheeks from making faces at a three year-old. We ended up at Zak's Diner in the ByWard Market, a family favourite. We've been going to this place to enjoy their delicious milkshakes and diner fare for around thirty years, so we had an obligation to return once more. 

  We ended our day with a "ghost tour" of the Beechwood Cemetery. Known as the "National Cemetery", Beechwood has been around since the 1870's and a couple of notables, Tommy Douglas, largely responsible for our system of socialized health care, and Sir Robert Borden, Prime Minister during World War I, are buried there. Our guide spent over an hour leading us around the burial ground, spinning tales of Brian the Poltergeist and Joe the crematorium guy's spiritual hijinks while we dodged raindrops from a passing thunderstorm. We couldn't have asked for a more funereal atmosphere as our small group hid beneath umbrellas in the dark. It was a bit like a scene from The Exorcist though no one's head spun around. We didn't witness any paranormal activity. Maybe they don't come out in the rain.

  Wednesday, we had planned to take Lucas kayaking on the downtown stretch of the Rideau Canal while Jen, James and Ben went off to the Royal Canadian Mint. Unfortunately, the day dawned cloudy, windy and cool; not ideal conditions to be out on the water. Penny and I stayed back while the rest hit the Mint and we joined up later at the Aviation Museum.

  If you've been following along the past fifteen months you'll remember we visited the US Air Force Museum in Dayton, OH at the very beginning of our travels. Although the Canadian version is a fraction of its size the content is well-presented and the staff are very knowledgeable. Lucas and I took the "backstage" tour and got to see what they have in the attic, which is actually another hangar next door. We saw a ton of fascinating craft in various stages of restoration or disassembly. Since I had taken snaps of some of the various Air Force One's in Dayton I felt obliged to include an early Canadian version, used by the first Trudeau, from the 1960's. It doesn't scream "world dominating power" like a giant 747 but there's a certain Canadian-ness about it; understated and functional. Y'know, nothing to see here, move along.

  Amongst many interesting artifacts in the museum are the only remaining sections of the ill-fated Avro Arrow project from the late 1950's. There is a wing, Iroquois engine and the complete nose section of RL-206, all very cool to see up close. As I thought all evidence of these impressive designs was destroyed I was very surprised to see this on display.

  With that chapter of our adventures completed we were slated to escape from the Diefenbunker in an hour. Unfortunately, the thirty-two minute trip Google predicted became ninety-six minutes due to people conducting physics experiments with their cars en route. Therefore, we were very late. The nice people there did allow us to try the escape room but, due to scheduling constraints, could only allow us forty-five minutes to complete it instead of an hour. We persevered.

  At this point it's incumbent upon me to offer some explanation for all this. First, for those of you not up to speed on escape rooms, let me try to describe it to you. A group of you and your friends/family, typically numbering 6-12, are locked in a room, or series of rooms, for an hour. During that time you are required to decipher codes and complete puzzles to gain access to keys and combinations that unlock doors and, if successful, allow you to escape. We've all been doing this for years and some of our group are quite accomplished. If you remember, we did one in Cyprus while Kate was visiting.

  The Diefenbunker is a giant underground complex constructed in the early 1960's while John Diefenbaker was Prime Minister, thus the nomenclature. It's actual name is Canadian Forces Station Carp, Carp being the name of the little town where it's located. The purpose of this facility was to provide a bomb shelter for the government located far enough from Ottawa to protect them in the event of a nuclear war. It's kind of a bookend to our nuclear missile silo visit in Arizona last summer.

  With the dissolution of the Soviet Union in 1991 and the subsequent end of the Cold War the site was decommissioned in 1994. It has since been repurposed as a Cold War museum and part of it is used by the escape room company.

  Without giving away any of the details for those who might have this experience on their to-do list I will heartily recommend it. We did not complete the task as we needed more time and people. There were only six of us and it seems designed for a larger group of eight to twelve. Otherwise, everything was well-designed and challenging, a 5/5 on all counts.

  With that crossed off our list Penny and I headed off for a terrific dinner at Aroma Meze, in downtown Ottawa. It was our forty-second anniversary and we celebrated it with great food and wine in a cozy spot. I'm not one for pix of food but who can resist food with flames?

  As I said earlier, Jen and her gang were off in Montreal yesterday sampling poutine and wandering the streets of the Old Port. Penny and I hung around home until sundown when we once again made our way to Ottawa to see the hot air balloons taking off for their evening flights from the Festival de Montgolfieres de Gatineau. It was a perfect evening, calm winds, clear sky and lots of balloons. It made us want to go up in one... again.

  That brings our week in Hawkesbury to a close. If you haven't spent time in the Ottawa area I heartily recommend it. There's lots to see, great restaurants and bars, beautiful scenery and the winters are wonderful with skating on the Rideau Canal, snowshoeing and skiing. We've been here many times and have always had a good time.

  Next week we'll be back house sitting for a couple near Newmarket, the first of three stays there between now and the end of October. Since we won't be touristing I'll be publishing an installment highlighting the best restaurants we've experienced over the past fifteen months, so look for that. In the meantime, we're looking forward to returning to a place where speaking English isn't a crime.

Cheers!