stones taught me to fly Yesterday morning I went to the grocery store and a man I didn't know gave me flowers. Peach-coloured roses, to be precise.

I've mentioned it before, so you probably know I joined a yoga class this term. It's the only class from my full course load that I haven't missed yet. That shows you my dedication to my academic life, I guess. I knew the first day I was supposed to attend class (a school class, that is) that I wasn't feeling the student life. I'm really over it, and I do not like living in Ottawa as a student. But yoga, well, that's kinda been a treat. Because, you see, I've never taken a class before. I've done a lot of yoga at home - all taught by the masters via TV and video. Rodney Yee, Susan Deason, Patricia Walden, and Kate Potter have done a good job teaching me.

It's a 90-minute class for "intermediate" practitioners, so I was a little anxious about how I would do. I was pleased to discover that I'm keeping up just fine. I was actually surprised, too, that I was sore for days afterwards. Granted, I've never done yoga for such a long stretch of time at once, but I have done lots of yoga and was surprised at the tightness in my muscles. But I love it. Yoga is one of those things that is hard to describe how it affects you. It's supposed to be a time of self-acceptance and quiet self-awareness, where you focus a lot on your breathing and being present in your body. And afterwards, you feel all stretched out and somehow more settled within yourself.

This weekend was more about being that way: settled. After so many weekends on the go, I am reporting a non-camping weekend this time around. This includes no wild nights out celebrating anything, and no frenzy of activity preparing for or going camping. No, this weekend was about chilling out, of the variety seen above (and literally, since it has finally cooled off here), watching a couple movies, doing some home-based yoga, pretending to do school work (soon..!), and a leisurely bike ride this afternoon with Devin. It was a good day for a bike ride - the leaves are still just turning colours and slowly floating to the ground, so it's very pretty out there, and smells refreshingly like fall. See more of our bike ride images here.

I think the man was just a store manager trying to clear out inventory (who the heck buys peach roses anyway?) and score points with the female customers. I appreciated it.  | ¶ 6:53 p.m.

  it's a small crime, and I've got no excuse
And so then we camped. After all the adventure-packed weekends this month, we couldn't let this one go without another. It was off to Bon Echo Provincial Park we went, this time with Patrick joining us.

It was about a 2-hour drive southwest from Ottawa, and I was delighted to see the bright sun illuminating the already-turning leaves along the way. Not a ton of red yet, but lots of hints of yellow and orange. Very pretty. The park itself is massive - over five hundred campsites - and a little confusing to navigate without a map, but it was mostly empty and we had our pick of locations. We got a sweet spot with no neighbours around us whatsoever (not even raccoons this time).

We quickly settled in and got our tents pitched and a fire started. Fire-building and maintenance became the focal point of the evening for Patrick, who had not camped in a long time and was pretty excited about the whole thing. We were smart this time and brought an axe, and with the vast amount of empty campsites, we were able to pillage around for fallen trees and abandoned firewood without having to buy any. This meant Patrick got to do lots of chopping, and I think he was thrilled about it. The guy even brought oven mitts to handle wood adjustments in the fire, and you can see the end result in this photo. I told you he was excited.

We had a spectacular dinner cooked over the fire - steak, potatoes, vegetables, fresh bread - then relaxed around the campfire with wine and beer and a guitar. Patrick's dog Louis really enjoyed the heat of the fire, too, and got so close that he melted the rope we had him tied with a couple times . He was an awesome dog to camp with - even when not tied, he didn't wander far and always came back when you called him. He actually helped with the wood chopping by chewing on lots of the smaller twigs and branches we collected, breaking them up for the fire.

I was pretty tired that evening after Devin's party the night before, so I didn't stay up too late. Patrick played with the fire for a couple hours after we went to bed, I think. The nights are getting a bit cooler in these parts, but I was blissfully warm in my fantastic sleeping bag, so I slept like a champ. The boys were a bit cold, though, and were pretty anxious for some hot coffee first thing in the morning. We weren't rushing to get home, so it was nice to enjoy the sights of the park in the sunny morning.

We walked down to Mazinaw Lake and wow it was beautiful. And warm(-ish)! After testing it on my feet, I was determined to swim, so I trekked back to our site to get my swim gear on and slowly waded into the water. Nobody else had brought their swim gear, and neither were they inclined to swim (there was a bit of a cold wind), so I had to brave the water alone. I'm glad I did - it was very refreshing.

There were boats out on the water - canoes, kayaks and some kind of tour boat. Apparently when you get up close to the rocky cliffs on the other side (it's called Mazinaw Rock), you can see all sorts of old pictographs drawn by natives from years past. Also, this is one of the deepest lakes in Southern Ontario, so divers like to explore the depths. Who knew, eh.

I've been pleasantly surprised at the spectacular campgrounds we've discovered the last few months. Just when I think, "I definitely want to come back here", we stumble on another place that is equally worthy of such a sentiment. Camping is a lot of work (it takes us three trips each to load up the car, then unload, too), but it's so satisfying, too, that even getting away for one night is worth it. Even when we woke up in the rain last weekend at Lac Stukely, that was fine (because it wasn't cold!). When you have the right gear (i.e. tarps and warm sleeping bags) and you don't forget anything, the experience can be truly delightful. The rest of my photos are here.

Here's a glimpse of our experience (taken in the morning):

  | ¶ 10:34 a.m.

  volcanoes melt you down
It was Devin's birthday on Saturday - he's finally a quarter-century old don't you know, aging like good cheese. Or wine. Or something.

So you know what that means - a little bit of celebrating with some cocktails. We started at the Brig Friday after work (for me, after yoga class) and were joined by some of Devin's current and former co-workers (only the cool ones, of course). I learned about a shooter called a "polar bear" from one of those co-workers, Heather. Very tasty, like an After Eight mint.

We later moved on to the Blue Cactus where somebody decided that we needed to go ahead with "bottle service". Yes, of course, we definitely needed a 26-ounce bottle of vodka. For sure. The argument is that with all the mixes they bring when you do it this way, you save money. Yeah, save money, but who needs that much vodka?! Anyway, the night got a bit silly from that point on, and you can see some of the evidence here.

The important thing is that the birthday boy had a good time. Happy 25th, Devin - you're definitely getting up there!  | ¶ 11:35 p.m.

  why'd you fill my sorrow with words you've borrowed I'm a little obsessed with Damien Rice, especially after having seen him play in Montreal. This is a bit of a long clip (has two songs), but he's just so good. The sad part of his music these days is that the woman seen sitting in this clip (she sits when she's not doing vocals?), Lisa Hannigan, who has recorded and performed with him for a long time, is no longer doing so. She wasn't in Montreal, and not to take away from Damien on his own, but there was definitely something missing.

I recently downloaded a BBC special that he recorded (with Lisa still with him) and it blows me away. It's so intense to see him perform his songs live. They start so slow and pretty and build into something hard and edgy - very powerful.

Have I convinced you yet?

  | ¶ 4:42 p.m.

  can't recall when I last felt that way I think that one good thing about being something of a transient person is that you really start to appreciate the things that not every place has to offer. When I was in Calgary, on the three Fridays I was working downtown I spent a couple solid hours after work walking around the downtown area taking it all in. I'd been away from the city long enough to feel like a bit of a tourist, but it was all still familiar enough to give me a sense of comfort. And since it's boomtown, there's always some old building being knocked down to make room for another, so there's lots to see.

In Ottawa, it's the weather and greenery I'm enjoying this month. Last month in Calgary it was already cooling off noticeably, and I hear it's getting pretty chilly there this week (i.e. flurries). Not that I want to rub it into anyone's face who lives there, but we're having a spectacular week of temperatures in the high 20s here. It's really, really nice to have the sun warming you and the leaves still on the trees. I think if I move back to Calgary I'm still going to find a way to spend the month of September in the East. Ha ha!

Calgary always gets the last laugh anyway - they'll be outside having patio drinks at some random point this winter when a Chinook blows through. I'll be sure to be there then.  | ¶ 1:15 p.m.

  all I've got is your hand You'll be pleased to learn that the Carleton support staff were able to resolve their differences with the university and are back to work. I noticed a big difference when I went to school yesterday, let me tell you. The OC Transpo bus drivers, in solidarity with the CUPE union, were not crossing the picket line during the strike, so it meant students bussing to school had a bit of a hike from Bronson Street (the school even started offering a shuttle service). But yippee, now we get dropped off on campus along the proper bus route.  | ¶ 2:32 p.m.

  what makes winters lonely? Now at last I know. I can't seem to get a consistent pace going this month. During the week I'm in denial that school has started and I don't get much accomplished, but my weekends are jam-packed with activity and adventure.

So this past weekend was a lot of fun. Devin and I are trying to squeeze in some late-summer camping whenever we can. We were already planning to be at Scott's place in North Hatley Saturday for poker, so we just drove a day early to the Eastern townships and camped in Orford Park at Lac Stukeley.

It was all very hectic getting out of town. A last-minute trip to Canadian Tire for Devin while I attended a yoga class at Carleton (one class I didn't skip last week!) meant we were a little disjointed in our efforts and we definitely overlooked a few things and had to improvise, but all-in-all things worked out well. It was already dark when we got to the campsite, but we managed to get set up in the dark reasonably well, got a fire going, stretched out in our new chairs and enjoyed some wine and beer. That's when the dark woods around our site came alive with the shuffling of little raccoon feet. Brave friggin' raccoons, too! They came right into our site with us sitting pretty close and weren't even very scared when we yelled or chased them. I couldn't see them all the time, but knew if I took a picture in the direction of the sounds, I'd catch them with the flash on my camera, so you can see them in a few of my shots here.

The night actually had a few scary moments for me. I did a solo trip on foot in the dark (with a fading flashlight) to the camp depanneur for a second batch of firewood, and I was pretty scared the whole time, what with hardly being able to see the road in front of me. When a vehicle came along on the road I was worried they wouldn't see me and I fell in the ditch trying to get far enough off the road. Silly.

We knew it was going to rain at some point - they were saying 90% chance overnight, so I was pretty happy every time I'd look at the sky and see nothing but stars until we went to bed. Well, that changed pretty quickly. I was awakened by the sound of heavy rain on the tarp and tent above us, and started having weird scary dreams after I drifted back to sleep (the rain would pool on the tarp then run off in a steady stream that sounded like somebody pissing outside the tent, so my dream included a random madman pissing outside the tent before trying to get in and murder us). At one point I was just too scared and woke Devin up just to have some company amongst the unfamiliar sounds of rain and forest. The odd part about this was how I spent my wakeful moments trying to talk myself out of being afraid, but later we discovered a hole in the tent - yes, teeth marks of a determined raccoon trying to get in (probably not to murder us, just foraging for treats). I wasn't so crazy for letting my imagination run away.

Here is my video update from the next morning:



We spent the morning in the nearby town of Magog, enjoying a warm breakfast at Jo et Moi Petit Resto Sympa (very yummy) and picking up various supplies for that night's poker soiree. We did not run into cute Bill, in case you were wondering (he might be busy preparing his campaign - I understand he's the new Liberal candidate in the region).

We saw a fawn on the way out of Orford Park, we saw several deer behind Scott's place, and later in the evening, we got to see more raccoons. These ones were welcome at Scott's, since his family has been feeding the local raccoons for years and have a friendly relationship with them. I captured a good video of the action you can see here, if you are so inclined.

Scott served us a fantastic meal yet again. And before the poker got started, we all took a turn on the Wii, making asses of ourselves in an attempt at boxing and playing tennis. Pretty fun, but my favourite game was the cow-riding. Later I won the first poker game and came second in the next game, so not a bad poker performance. I was getting a lot of good cards dealt to me, so that helped.

I woke up to a beautiful sunny Sunday, we ate another delicious meal and hit the road so we could stop in Cowansville to visit Devin's father. Perfect timing, because he had just been picking apples at a local orchard and we got to savour a couple. Nothing like freshly-picked apples. Next it was spending a couple hours sitting in bad, bad traffic around and through Montreal, then another couple hours to Ottawa to feed some hungry kitties.

See what I mean about a jam-packed weekend..?  | ¶ 11:51 p.m.

  and if you hate me, then hate me so good that you can let me out On Saturday night as I secured my spot in front of the stage at Osheaga, four teenage boys were cruising down the Ammon Road outside Moncton, passing by a carload of their female friends, failing to heed the no-passing zone, and failing to notice the pick-up truck coming at them over a slight blind hill in the road. These four sixteen-year-old boys were killed instantly as their Toyota Echo collided head-on with the truck, while their friends watched in horror from the car beside them.

These four boys (Brandon Hupman, Corey Doucet, Jimmy Dunphy, and Jared Storey) were the classmates and friends of my sister Kate, who is also sixteen and attends the same high school. I can't even imagine the horror these families are going through. This is a devastating accident for the Moncton community.  | ¶ 1:26 p.m.

  with fiery eyes and dreams no one could steal
Well, I had a pretty spectacular weekend, travelling to Montreal to spend the afternoon at the Osheaga Music & Arts Festival. In truth, the sole reason that I purchased tickets to this event was to see Damien Rice, whose music I love, love, love. But I've recently also become a fan of Feist, so it was pretty nifty to see her, too. Devin was my travel companion, and we lucked out yesterday with a fantastically hot and sunny day.

The performances were pretty impressive, but they seemed a tad rushed, in that the artists were scheduled pretty much overlapping each other. Since there were two main stages side by side, it meant that one artist could get set up and sound-checked while the prior one performed. The crowd just shuffled back and forth on the sandy ground as each new artist began. Well, not me and Devin when Damien Rice was due to start. There was someone called "Dumas" playing French rock on one stage, so I wasn't too upset to miss him while we staked out a spot in front of the other stage. We scored a good viewing spot, as you can tell by my pictures (here) - we were pretty close to the stage, and we were standing about two inches higher than everyone else, on the plastic covering that protected electrical cables to the sound booth.

Damien put on a great show, but I thought he could have addressed the fans a bit more. I recognized all but one song, and he did a good job rocking all his tunes. It was over all too quickly, as he had to surrender the limelight to the Smashing Pumpkins, who were the final band of the night. We finished up our wine and beer, and listened to the Pumpkins from a distance (the venue had serious amplification, so you didn't need to be anywhere near the stage to hear the music), hopped on the Metro (the Montreal subway is cool), grabbed some pizza and called it a night.

It was good to get away.  | ¶ 8:23 p.m.

  in the meantime, we got it hard, second-floor living without a yard Yesterday the support staff at Carleton University went on strike. It didn't cause too many problems for me, since they seem to have prepared and trained some students to fill in at the Awards Office (where I process my loan), the library, and the sports complex. There were certain things I couldn't do, like pay my outstanding fine at the library, or get information about a yoga class I signed up for at the sports centre. Not a huge deal, whatever. I'll get that stuff done later.

The part that irks me is the scenario you see in this photo. I'm a little confused about the definition of "legal picket line" when it blocks access to the institution. I read about how strikers are permitted to talk to people entering and to distribute information about their issues. Maybe I'm getting hard in my old age, but I truly did not care yesterday what their issues are. I truly did not want to talk to anyone about it. I was minding my own business, driving on to campus to conduct my various student activities, and they were the ones creating a disruption to me, by controlling how many cars went by at a time (only about two, and that was after they made you sit there for a few minutes).

I get it, that they're allowed to do this. And I get it, that they're just people exercising their rights to demand better treatment. But they have to get that getting in people's way probably isn't going to gain them support. Does that make me heartless..?

In other news, it's roasting hot here today and I LOVE IT.  | ¶ 3:21 p.m.

  in a cage where only one thing could be free From Bill Maher.

New Rule: If you were surprised that the Chinese don't care about toy safety, then the child who needs protecting is you. Over the last couple of months, American consumers have been learning a shocking lesson about supply and demand: if you demand products that don't cost anything, people will make them out of poison, mud and shit. ... They don't care if your precious little Britney sucks a little lead. Because in China, their kids aren't playing with the toys, they're the ones in the factory all day making them. ...

In America, there is nothing more sacred than a bargain. And that even includes the war. Yeah, there's too much lead in the kids' toys, but not nearly enough on the Humvees in Iraq. "Let's have a war and cut taxes; what could go wrong?" "Let's give mortgages to the homeless. Sounds like a plan." "Let's buy toys from a Communist police state. You just know they'll put in a little extra love."

  | ¶ 7:40 p.m.

  one, two, three, four; five, six, nine and ten It's time for a healthy breakfast!

Mm, don't those look good? Those are the macaroons (or buckaroos) I made with my nieces a few weeks ago.

A few more pics are here.  | ¶ 9:27 a.m.

  I feel it all I was already pretty tired on Saturday. After being out Friday night visiting with an old friend, I really could have used a nap. We were throwing together one last family meal at the compound since cousin Mike and I were both flying out the next day. And it all happened so quickly. Mike and I were driving over to Jamie's new apartment to pick him up, and I somehow suggested that since it was the last night for both of us, we should maybe put in an effort to party. Mike is twenty, so I didn't really have to do much persuading; he was all for it.

We ate one last fabulous meal together - macaroni casserole, beans and wieners, muffins, and apple crumble, and then the beers came out. Another Mike showed up, we all packed into his car and headed to Reggie's in Kensington and hit the pool tables (cousin Mike is wicked good - watch out). Another Mike showed up, and the beer just kept flowing.

I guess now we know what happens when you get three Mikes, three Ryan women, and Jamie together - gongshow. It seemed like the night passed by so quickly, and we were off to Jamie's place (for more beer?). And then, shortly after, Gina, cousin Mike and I were hailing down a cab in Bridgeland, arriving back at the compound near 4 AM. Did I mention that cousin Mike had a 7 AM flight..? Eek.

I was lucky that my flight wasn't until dinnertime. I had the entire day to sleep in and eventually get packed for my journey back to good old Ottawa. I was pretty excited to have a direct flight, too. After travelling more than usual this year, I've become a bit impatient with connections.

And so I'm here, waiting for school to start, and trying to remember why. I need more sleep. More pics here.  | ¶ 1:20 a.m.

  the truth lies I'm "home" and it feels kinda weird. A month is a long time to be away.  | ¶ 2:20 a.m.