there's only so far you can go in your head Cat report, central Canada edition:

Salsa went back to the animal hospital last weekend for a post-surgery check-up and new lab tests. The vet called today with good news: her kidney functioning is improving since we got rid of that nasty tooth infection and changed her diet to a special food. To celebrate, Salsa wanted to show you her breakdancing moves (she picked this song herself - turn it up). Check it out:

  | ¶ 6:17 p.m.

  you know I love you but I'm playing for keeps What I did when I came to Ottawa was bring some NHL playoff luck to the team here. It wasn't enough that I lived through Red Mile madness in Calgary three years ago - I have to experience it all again in my new hometown. I'll keep you posted on "Sens Mile" activities, but for now, here are some pics from the big rally this past Thursday. You people in Calgary, don't hate us for the tropical weather we had when it was snowing out there; we had a bit of a heatwave this week, so everyone's looking pretty summer-y for the hockey event.

I work right across the street from City Hall, where the rally was held out front in an area they call "Festival Plaza" - lots of space to rally and stuff. I got there when it was winding down, so the crowd had thinned out quite a bit from the peak lunch hour crowd, but it was pretty cool to see all the stuff they had going. In that photo, you can see where they coloured the water in the fountain to red - nifty. I wandered around and settled into a little spot near the stage which turned out to be a prime location for witnessing the mayor come in on a fancy retro firetruck (?). This video shows how it went down.
  | ¶ 1:41 p.m.

  and now I'm too far from home I think it's interesting that you can apply here to work at the Tim Horton's in Afghanistan. I think that would be a cool thing to do.  | ¶ 11:41 a.m.

  I am breathing in the moment Well, I know you're probably wondering how froo's kitties are doing. First there was Shiny, who is doing just fine, and then she added Sparky to the brood. Sadly, Sparky isn't thriving as well as a kitten should. He's not gaining weight very quickly and consequently doesn't have the energy to play and enjoy his young life so much. Which means that getting tackled by his big sister Shiny probably isn't so much fun. froo has gotten him tested for all sorts of things and so far all they can do is rule out parasites and other diseases, but they haven't officially diagnosed him with anything. They suspect he probably has a condition called FECV (feline enteric corona virus) that might turn into something worse (FIP: feline infectious peritonitis), so the next step is antibiotics to see how he fares.

In the meantime, froo's been on a mission to feed him something that will actually get absorbed into his tiny body so he can be healthy and happy. Click on the image below to see the notes on all the kitty paraphenalia, and send your prayers out for young Sparkles. Funny, froo.

  | ¶ 3:58 p.m.

  Romeo and Juliet, they never felt this way I bet It's funny to experience Stanley Cup fever in a second city, three years after Calgary's run in 2004. There's a bit of deja-vu going on. For example, that year, some local artist re-did 50 Cent's "in da club" (remember?) into "in the Dome (hangin' with Jarome)", so here in Ottawa there is a similar thing going on. I think a local producer actually created a new song, but it's got that same "gangster-rap" sound, and a much more generic title (Go, Sens, Go ?), but it is hugely popular on the local radio stations.

Instead of the "Red Mile", we've got the "Sens Mile" on Elgin Street, only the hockey arena is not quite at the end of the road. It's out of town in Kanata, so it's not like the fans can come pouring out onto the "Mile" after the game. Fortunately there are plenty of bars on the street so there are tons of folks already in place for the craziness. I haven't been down there yet, but I think I'll check it out when the final series gets going. I was speculating about whether we'd get a Flamesgirls.com phenomenon here. Do you think somebody has already reserved "sensgirls.com" for all the crazy flashers that will no doubt make their appearance...?

This morning in the Ottawa Citizen there was an article about Coach Murray's mother, who lives in a town nearby. Somebody sent her this prayer, and it made me laugh.

Our God who art in Scotiabank Place, Senators be thy name.
Thy puck come, thy save be done in the air as it is on ice.
Give us this day our Stanley Cup and forgive us our slashing,
as we send out Neil for those who slash against us.
And lead us not into golfing, but deliver us from injury.
For the Senators are the team, the power and glory, forever and ever, Amen.

  | ¶ 4:07 p.m.

  if you didn’t push me, if you hadn’t cared, how would I have ever dared? When you live far away from "home", i.e. the city you grew up in, every return visit becomes a type of mission consisting of several objectives: see people you haven't seen in a while, do the things you can only do at home, visit the places you are most fond of. So for me, some of the items that complete my ideal Moncton trip include a trip to Deluxe fish 'n chips or Pizza Delight, a glimpse of the ocean and/or beach, time spent with family, and usually a drive around the city visiting old homes or hangouts.

I did most of those things this past weekend. The weather wasn't great but I visited the wharf at Pointe du Chene and meditated on the ocean for a while, stood on the wet sand at Parlee Beach and gazed into the gentle waves, ordered some garlic cheese fingers with donair sauce from Pizza Delight, drove slowly by the old house on Cameron Street, visited an old friend from junior high school, had a pint at the St. James Gate, and had relaxing visits with many family members.

I visited with both of my elderly grandmothers, too. They are 89 and 87 years old and although both have been generally healthy during their lives, it seems you get to an age where your body starts breaking down in unanticipated ways. My father's mother has developed "pulmonary fibrosis", so her heart and lungs are both under duress. My father said that my grandmother goes to bed at night with her apartment door unlocked. It is so that her neighbour can check on her in the morning if she doesn't make an appearance. On the other end of things, my mother's mother is having more difficulty with her memory, and that spins into panic-type attacks that feel like heart problems to her. There isn't a clear diagnosis, and her mind is definitely ebbing in and out of perfect awareness, but she's still mostly healthy, all things considered.

These visits made me think a lot about family and about the "circle of life" (yes, I know that sounds so gay). Aging can be sad and scary, and watching it happen to the people in your family can remind you just how short life is.

Seeing my grown cousins this weekend made me remember babysitting for them. I was still young (around 10) when Ryan was born, so it was more assisting my mother with caring for him when he came to stay, but I remember it vividly, because it was my first exposure to a baby who could not be comforted, and his crying broke my heart, even at that age. He would only stop if you walked with him, and I would have paced all night with him in my arms. But Mom knew, after five babies of her own, that sometimes a baby will just wear himself out and fall asleep. I hated that; I wanted to stop his crying. He sat across the poker table from me this weekend, all 23 years old and responsible and adult-ish, and that's what I remembered. Not even a memory for him, but for me, an instant in time that marked me.

In my head, that's what family is for: to care for you through their loving acts, so that, no matter how many wrong turns you make, or decisions that take you away from them, no matter what fortune or misfortune befalls you, even if they hurt you or you hurt them, no matter that you sometimes forget to call, you know deep inside you'll always have a place to go "home" to, and the people will be waiting. You can see some of my people here.  | ¶ 9:45 p.m.

  just listen to the music of the traffic in the city Every time I see a blind person in a city by themselves, I think about how brave they have to be to persist in participating in a world where, you know, eyesight comes in pretty handy. I've seen this one man at my transit stop, waiting at a corner to cross the street as the buses whip by in near-constant succession. The Hurdman stop near our building is sort of a hub and major transfer point for a lot of bus routes, so during rush hour it can be an overwhelming place if you don't know what you're doing. This man is basically reliant on the kindness of strangers: it is the duty of bus drivers to announce their route number to him, and he must call out to people approaching for assistance in crossing the busy road in front of him.

Like many cities, the buses in Ottawa can get pretty damn crowded. This morning was another situation where people were jamming themselves in up by the driver, including a blind man with his guide dog. He was cool with standing, but it seemed wrong somehow. As he stood there, though, I was intrigued by his appearance. This was a good-looking man, with a nicely trimmed beard and hair perfectly styled. I assumed he had a good woman at home providing feedback, but then again, maybe he's mastered the grooming-sans-seeing aspect of his life. He looked confident, standing there on the bus, minding his own business and his face giving away no anxiety at being in such a tight situation with his canine companion.

I remember seeing another blind man in Calgary, the "aggressive caner". He would walk down the street at lunch, using his cane very assertively, giving a full sweep of the sidewalk in front of him - you didn't want to get in his way! I have to wonder how many blind people end up with sprained ankles and other random injuries from their necessary proceeding-with-blind-faith.

I would be a terrible blind person. I like to plan for every contingency, prepare for every mis-step, rely only on myself to accomplish tasks; I simply could not just throw myself into an unfamiliar situation, not knowing if the bus driver would remember to tell me which bus he's driving, or if somebody would feel generous enough to help me cross the street. Absolute independence is a kind of self-insulation when you think about it: if I don't really need you, you can't let me down.

I'm taking a spring/summer class called "the history of political thought". It's pretty much a philosophy class. Expect more deep thoughts such as this...  | ¶ 11:56 p.m.

  situation critical Last Monday when I got back to work after my lightning-quick visit to Calgary, my head was probably still a time zone or two away. My "boss", Reuben, asked me about something that I'd done prior to the weekend and I couldn't remember the result of the task. It's not like me to leave something incomplete, so I wasn't too worried about it, but he was a little, well, distressed, and told me he needed me to follow up on the matter on a "hyper-urgent" basis. This is the conversation froo and I had about it a couple days later:

Chief: I told my friend Mark about the hyper-urgency and he said this:
"Hyper-urgent. I like that. Is there a higher degree of urgency than that? How about mega-hyper-urgent."
froo: good point. We need an urgent alert scale. Urgency level yellow.
Chief: urgency level: hyper
froo: make up a table so you can use it as a reference
Chief: I will. Weekend project.
froo: this will help ["Homeland Security Advisory System"]
Chief: oh, good resource. I should advise Reuben that "hyper" is not one of the generally accepted categories
froo: i think you can have modified scale for urgency. It's different than terror (kinda)
Chief: yeah, you might be right. 'Cause "severely urgent" doesn't really work.
froo: try to make "crazy urgent" one of the levels
Chief: good tip
froo: (more or less than hyper, i do not know...)
Chief: i'll arrange for a focus group. we'll sort it out
froo: yeah, don't make any rash decisions that could lead to elevated urgency without reason
Chief: unjustified urgency would be bad

Using the Homeland security version as a model, here's what I've put together.

  | ¶ 3:31 p.m.

  easy like Sunday morning   | ¶ 10:05 a.m.

  they hold high their prized posession At lunch today I was eating my pizza across the street from work (on the lawn of the Ottawa courthouse) when I noticed policemen on motorcycles getting in position at a nearby intersection. When I looked up Elgin Street I saw more flashing lights and police vehicles. At first I thought somebody important was about to drive by in an escorted motorcade or something. But then up near the war memorial you could see the signs and the hordes of people approaching.

Turns out that today was the "10th annual march for life" which is held on the anniversary of the passage of the law that makes abortion legal in Canada. Ottawa being the nation's capital, we get all the mass protests here, apparently. I was pretty amazed at the size of the parade - the people just kept coming and coming. There were priests in uniform, the Knights of Columbus (who knew they had a position on this), and a whole lot of teenagers.

Teenagers!

I know this is a controversial subject but I gotta say that having teenagers pulled out of their Sunday school classes and youth groups and high schools for this event kinda took away from its credibility. How could a child possibly have an informed opinion on a matter such as this?

On a somewhat unrelated note, Devin pointed out that the signs they're using are a clear violation of the Federal Identity Program of Canada, which states that, "The 'Canada' wordmark is the global identifier of the Government of Canada". Are these people suggesting that the government of Canada supports their cause?  | ¶ 11:58 p.m.

  so I wanna know, what's the name of the game I wasn't a good logger of events on the weekend, photography-wise. My flight was late getting to Calgary on Friday afternoon, so I was bit frazzled getting ready to walk in the 3-degree-rainy-ness to meet up with A-list and Special Helper. So I left my camera home that day, and settled in at the Amsterdam Rhino for good snacks, beers, and conversation. Later I found Persuade enjoying her sendoff party at the Met. It was a late night for us girls.

Some moments I was happy to catch on film are the ones where I creep next door (from my mom's place) to visit with the sleepy people on the couch. Nobody's looking too sylin' in this photo, but it's classic morning-at-the-Ryans.

We had a lovely family brunch consisting of yummy Dalton-made waffles, eggs, and bacon. It's nice these days that a lot of the family has gathered in Calgary, so I get to see all but one sibling (hi, Kris!) with ease. Saturday afternoon was for napping and for a bit of digging through the storage items Keri is generously housing in the rafters of his garage for me. I did take a break in there to assist Caia with her gymnastics. The girl wants to learn how to do cartwheels, don't you know, and she made some good progress that day.

Then it was off to froo's place for Indian food and to meet the newest addition to her cat-clan, mister Sparky. Young Sparky had flown in from Winnipeg that day and was still feeling a little out of sorts, but he sure was cute and fuzzy. His new big sister was pretty curious about him, too, poor little shell-shocked Sparky. But judging by these updated pics from froo, the kitties seem to be getting along alright.

The four of us (Persuade, froo, and Mr. Ed) then trekked over to Moose McGuire's to visit with Pammy P and Tone-L. Since I had to fly out the next morning it was a pretty casual affair, but good to see some old faces again. I swear, I have such a busy life in Calgary, it's so odd to live in Ottawa where I still know very few people.

For now I file away these random moments for when I'm wondering what it's all about. Short picture set here.  | ¶ 11:04 p.m.

  sing a new song, chiquitita Wow, I was tired. After visiting Calgary and staying out late on the local clock, but still rising early on my body clock (eastern time, y’all), then flying a crazy-long flight, my brain was done (yesterday is a blur). So, stories to come, but for now here's a fun video of my nieces playing at the airport on Sunday.

  | ¶ 8:13 a.m.

  if you change your mind, I’m the first in line After living through three seasons in Ottawa, I would like to share my observations of the Rideau Canal with you. The people, they really are pretty hardcore with the skating in the winter months. Me, I went once. It was damn cold, and I fell hard enough to leave crazy purple bruises on my butt. In March they shut that down and the ice gradually turns to slush, then dirty water. They lower the water level for the winter, so after a season of skating and people treating it like a garbage pit, I have to say it's pretty gross looking for a while. When you think about it, the canal is some pretty stagnant water very much unlike a pool that is maintained with cleaning and chemicals. So yeah. Gross.

But in the last week the water level has been rising, and today it was right up to where it's supposed to be, just in time for the tourists who I already see gawking around Ottawa. At lunch I was lounging on the grass beside the canal, trying to soak up some Vitamin D (okay, I know you don't soak it up directly from the sun, w/e). Suddenly I heard a vaguely familiar sound. It was the sound of Paul's boats cruising up the canal to take their position near downtown to start giving tours to the visitors. Still being something of a tourist myself, I quickly pulled out my camera and caught this shot. The trees are looking pretty bare still, but there's a hint of summer in that green green grass.

If you see me in Calgary tomorrow with a very large suitcase, don't be confused. I'm not moving back (not yet, anyway) - I just think I'll bring a big bag so I can lug some of my storage crap (and some Kokanee Gold) back to Ottawa with me.  | ¶ 9:15 p.m.

  jealous! Look at froo, all down there in Nassau sitting by the oh-so-spectacular ocean.
  | ¶ 6:51 p.m.

  I haven't been the reason for one of those in quite a while Today Devin met me for lunch and we found a nice picnic table right on the parliament grounds to eat our samiches and take-out. I was surprised to see this furry guy coming so close to us, so I started ripping off pieces of my bread to feed him. Cute.

  | ¶ 11:45 p.m.