Sunday, August 1:
The Bride and I love Stouffville, a fun, growing, vibrant place to live. Close enough to Toronto to make commuting bearable, far enough away to make it invisible when you're at home. But there are times when the place resembles hicktown. Last night, we were hit with our third major power outage in the past few weeks, a four-and-a-half hour shutdown throughout the evening. No thunderstorm or anything like that, just lights out. And it varied. Power was restored intermittently, part of this street with juice, part of the next street with nothing. Very aggravating.
Worse still, when the power went out, the Tigers were leading Boston 4-0 in the bottom of the seventh. When the power came back on, I discovered they lost 5-4. Maybe the lost hydro saved me a large spike in my blood pressure.
Monday, August 2:
My rule of thumb regarding multi-week vacations is that nothing beats the first Sunday night. Not that you're mocking the poor folks in the neighbourhood (or at the cottage or marina) who have to crash or leave early because they have to go back to work the next day (well, maybe a little). But mainly, it's that you don't -- and that sense of freedom is marvelous. This year, we're starting vacation on a long weekend, so it's the first Monday night. But it still stands. No alarm clock to set, no tossing and turning in bed planning the next day's work routine in advance.
Wednesday, August 4:
In Toronto, they're still gnashing their teeth over the departure of Chris Bosh. Lebron James is public enemy number one in Cleveland, Ohio. "Just in it for the ring," and "Where's the loyalty in sports anymore?" are among the comments being tossed about by angry fans. If you want an answer to that question, cast your eyes westward to another Great Lakes city, Chicago, Illinois, where the Blackhawks have just parted ways with the goalie that helped them win the Stanley Cup. Once Antti Niemi won a $2.75 million salary judgement, the Hawks decided Niemi was too expensive. So they cut him loose in favour of older and cheaper Marty Turco at $1.3 million. Granted Niemi wasn't the sole reason the Hawks ended a 49-year Cup drought. Goaltending in this year's playoffs was as poor as I've seen in decades. But Turco turned 35 this month, and never managed to take the Dallas Stars to a Cup final. Sports is a business and this was a business decision for the salary-cap-stressed Hawks. Remember that, the next time a high-profile free agent looks out for number-one at the expense of the franchise that brought the athlete into the world of pro sports.
Friday, August 6:
BROCKVILLE, ON -- There were 7,234,923,109 visible stars (at least) last night from our sister-in-law's deck on the outskirts of Brockville. I can see at least a few hundred. It's an astonishing sight!
Brett Favre: I don't care, see? Either play or retire. But make up your mind!!
Sunday, August 8:
LAC-DES-SEIZE-ÎLES, PQ -- OK, so it's not the hot and sticky weather we've been having in Stouffville or even the humid days we enjoyed here last year. But while it's cool, it's great for sleeping and this is still God's country. And it's supposed to warm up.
Wednesday, August 11:
LAC-DES-SEIZE-ÎLES, PQ -- And it has. A perfect combination of warm days and low humidity. The lake water is now warm enough to spend hours swimming at a time and the overnight temperatures are cool enough to ensure great sleeping conditions. Oh, and our nephew has replaced the worn-out bar-b-q with a unit restaurants would be proud of. I could get so used to this.
Friday, August 13:
LAC-DES-SEIZE-ÎLES, PQ -- Saw a few shooting stars from the Perseid meteor shower last night before the clouds started rolling in. And even though I didn't see many of them, the view of the heavens from here is astonishing. I wish everyone could get out of the city for awhile and see the skies without light pollution.
Senior moments, both of us the other night. Somehow, we both managed to misplace the satellite remote. It was a good 40 minutes before we found it -- at least we think it's the unit we lost. This getting old business is for the birds!
Sunday, August 15:
LAC-DES-SEIZE-ÎLES, PQ -- The combination of great summer weather and dial-up service has kept these updates few and far between. I'd like to say "sorry 'bout that," but really, I'm not.
Our niece and her little guy (five-year-old Mikey-Man) are here for a few days and then -- sadly -- it's back home to reality. But Thursday, we'll pick up our nephew and his wife who are returning from their month-long trip to Italy, so we're keen to see them.
Thursday, August 19:
People can be such jerks. Exhibit A is tapping away right here at the keyboard -- yer faithful servant. As a member of the media, I often get cheesed off by negative comments about my profession -- how, for instance, the media spins things and hypes stories. Of course that's true but responsible outlets -- and I like to think my own employers fall into that category -- spend countless hours each day ensuring stories are delivered properly, without spin, without hype. I found myself defending my occupation the other night to our niece, a sweet, gentle soul who would think twice about harming the hair on a mosquito's leg. And in stating my position, I became sarcastic, snippy and unreasonable. I did apologize of course but I fear the damage had been done. She and her son left the cottage the next day, a day early, allegedly due to the rain that was falling. But I suspect part of the reason was that her usually easy-going unk had morphed into a miserable ogre the night before. The Bride has managed to keep talking to me but I can't imagine I earned any brownie points with her on this vacation.
The Bride motored us back home yesterday in seven hours flat, which included stops for gas and lunch, a lengthy detour around a closed section of Quebec highway 329, the frustration of following an extremely pokey driver along that detour and an idiot truck driver who hogged the passing lane of the 401 for no less than 20 consecutive kilometres west of Cornwall, trying in vain to pass a row of trucks before giving up. But we made it, because today we'll head to the airport to greet our nephew and his wife, as they land at Pearson International from Italy. At least, that was the game plan, from the personal itinerary they provided for us. They also gave us a copy of their Air Canada flight printouts. And that paper suggests they're coming home tomorrow instead, a statement confirmed by a phone call to the airline. I hope they don't waste today hanging around the airport in Rome for a flight they're not confirmed for!
Saturday, August 21:
It was "tomorrow" after all. We were the only ones who didn't seem to know that.
They never let me down. We took our nephew and his wife to King Henry's Arms in Uxbridge for dinner last night. We all had the prime rib, which was outstanding. The Arms isn't a fancy restaurant but one of countless British-themed pubs in the GTA. But they do it right -- incredible food, good service, friendly staff.
I didn't drive to Tonawanda, New York today just for the book, but since I was there, I picked up Stephen White's latest hardcover and will enjoy devouring it in the next few days. It was supposed to be on sale in both the U.S. and Canada by last Tuesday but none of the stores on this side of the border -- or on Amazon.ca -- have copies yet. So they don't get my business.
Sunday, August 22:
They may not be playoff-ready but they are fun to watch. And unlike my Detroit Tigers who threw in the towel when some of their top players went down with injuries, the Toronto Blue Jays battle hard every night. Helps if you have decent pitching, of course. Last night, they were down 4-1 and battled back to force the Red Sox into extra innings before succumbing on a Jed Lowrie home run in the 11th.
And I may have been a few years early with my prediction but the Cincinnati Reds appear to be the real deal this season. They've battled St. Louis tooth and nail all summer for top spot in their division and with six weeks to go have forged out a small lead. And methinks that will be one of the better pennant races down the stretch.
All good things must come to an end, etc. And so it is with this three-week vacation. Back to the company store tomorrow.
Tuesday, August 24:
To paraphrase John McEnroe: "They cannot be serious?!" With Big-10 expansion on the horizon as Nebraska joins in 2011, there is actually talk about putting Michigan and Ohio State in separate divisions and moving their annual football game away from the final weekend of the conference season. Seems they want to take away the possibility of having the teams play on successive weekends -- the regular season finale and the conference championship (not much fear of that with Michigan's recent history). I live and die with this game every November (I've died a lot lately) since I was a kid in the 1960s. The rivalry, in my opinion, is unique because -- trash-talking aside -- there is tremendous respect involved. Every great tradition Michigan has, from The Victors to the Big House to the M-Club banner, is matched by Ohio State's equally great traditions, from Carmen to The Horseshoe to the "Dotting of the i." As a Michigan fan, there is no greater satisfaction for me than a football win by the Maize and Blue over the Scarlet and Gray. And yet, I don't have anywhere near the hate on for OSU as I have for, say, Notre Dame. Michigan-Ohio State is THE GAME. It has to remain on the final weekend of the Big-10 season, expansion be damned.
Wednesday, August 25:
I’d love to know if there’s any way possible to deliver a stinging right cross down a phone line to telemarketers. This chowderhead has called me twice this week and won’t take no for an answer. He claims he has the right to circumvent the no-call list because his duct-cleaning firm did work for us two years ago -- which is equine poop. I know the company that did the job and it wasn’t his.
Another bright-enough-to-play-ball full moon last night, which I enjoyed outside at about 1:30 in the morning. Why the late hour? Because our power was out again in Hicksville, er, Stouffville for a few hours. No storm, no high winds but no hydro. It’s getting crazy.
Friday, August 27:
We noticed it first in the Laurentians: A few orange tinges to the tips of the leaves on maple trees. Cooler nights for sleeping. The sun disappearing earlier each night. At the start of summer, it doesn't say goodbye 'round these parts until 9 p.m. Now it's 8 p.m. and in a month from now, the sun will be with us for less than 12 hours a day. Don't get me wrong -- I love autumn. Just one thing keeps it from being my favourite season and that's what follows it. I hate winter with a passion and seem to hate it more every year. I know summer doesn't officially end for a few weeks yet but Labour Day weekend -- fairly late this year, as it's still a week away -- is my unofficial end of summer.
Speaking of the sun and other celestial objects in the sky, I was bummed to learn that Jack Horkheimer passed away this month. Back in the days when public television signed off each night, Jack's "Star Gazer" (formerly "Star Hustler") show would describe what we should watch for in the night sky for the following week. A bit corny but Horkheimer's enthusiasm was infectious. Sad to hear of his passing.
Sunday, August 29:
So, what do I know? Nothing. We're now being hit by a late-season heat wave with sizzling temperatures that started yesterday and will continue well into the week. What a treat it would be if this great summer extends into a great, warmer than usual autumn. All depends, I'm told, on the strength of the La Nina that's in place. It will mean colder than usual conditions for the west but if it's a weak La Nina, then we may be spared here in the east. If it's a strong one, then I guess we'll get a wicked winter.
Back when Stephen Strasburg made his major league debut in June, folks were already pencilling his name in for future Cy Young awards and wondering what hall-of-fame space he'd occupy some day in Cooperstown. A few other doomsayers were warning that he could be the next Mark Prior, Kerry Wood, David Clyde or Mark Fidrych. Today, the phenom has shut it down for the season with a torn ligament and faces Tommy John surgery -- followed by 12 to 18 months of rehabilitation. Ouch.
Monday, August 30:
A week or so ago I mentioned how much fun the Toronto Blue Jays are to watch. Even more fun? The Tampa Bay Rays. They must be the most athletic baseball team in the majors with speed to burn, both on the basepaths and in the outfield. Their pitching is superb and they've got just enough pop to make a difference, especially in their wacky dome where the power alleys are within easy reach. They may not hold off the Yankees for first place in the American League East (they've been tied now since about the American Civil War) but I sure wouldn't want to tangle with Tampa Bay in a playoff series. They just missed winning it all two years ago and there's some major pressure on them now, due to the short window of opportunity a small-market team has. Eventually, the Rays stars will sign with the likes of the Yanks, Red Sox and Dodgers -- but in the meantime, these guys are worth the price of admission or a few hours investment in front of the tube.
Tuesday, August 31:
The Bride and I have been like ships passing in the night for about a week now. She is heavily involved in today's annual Keuring for Dutch Warmbloods at Prima Equestrian hosted by our friends (and Prima owners) Roy & Michelle. She's long gone when I get up and not home when I finally crash (yes, I'm a very sound sleeper). And she's been averaging about four hours sleep in the past week. We were actually awake at the same time for a few moments overnight Sunday, when we looked at each other and jokingly said, "Who are you?" But the Keuring -- the fourth annual -- is something she takes great pride in and I'm delighted to say it was a big success again, despite the earlier-than-usual date and current heat wave. At least, that's what she told me in the few moments we had together this evening before she begged off to crash for, hopefully, a full eight hours and change!
