Huzzah! Huzzah! Huzzah!

The Queen is here. (Americans: This is the Queen of England. She is Head of State for Canada. That means she... well, except she... or maybe... oh, look it up.)

This afternoon, she got to ride on a big ship past a whole lineup of other ships from several different countries. Sailors stood on the decks, holding their headgear, and gave three cheers as she passed by. She lifted her gloved hand in gracious acknowledgment.

Some days I feel as lucky as a queen, when I see the things I see. But most of the time I'm pretty sure I'm not queen. Which is OK. I don't mind being part of the adoring crowd.

All together, now: hip hip...

huzzah!
(I call this the "neutrino" plant.
You can't see the plant but you can see its shadow.)
Hip hip...

huzzah!
(I love how the water
makes this rock look so different!)
Hip hip...

huzzahhhhhhhhhh!!

Those Wacky Canadians

You can tell Canada is going to be in the international spotlight. The wackiness quotient up here is skyrocketing.

First is the natural world. Even for the non-apocalyptic non-anthropomorphizing among us, it's hard not to think that perhaps the Canadian Shield is reacting negatively to the impending presence of G20 and G8 participants.

Yesterday in Ontario and Quebec: Tornadoes all over southern Ontario; one in Midland near the Georgian Bay of Lake Huron did damage. An earthquake, epicentre (Canadian quake, Canadian spelling) north of Ottawa, measured 5.something and was felt as far north and west as Sudbury and down into the U.S.

Yes. An earthquake. Smack dab in the middle of the Canadian Shield, one of the most geologically stable parts of the world. Where there's lots of talk about storing spent fuel from nuclear reactors, because of the low risk of earthquakes. Tell that to the people working in Ottawa buildings who saw windows shatter around them.

Tornadoes, earthquakes. The 8 and 20 might well confuse mosquitoes/blackflies with locusts. There are, no doubt, frogs peeping in the evening. What does that leave us with, imperiled firstborn sons? (We can set aside floods in the prairies, distressing though they are. The 8 and 20 won't get near that part of the country.)

Personally, I think the Canadian Shield is insulted by the perceived necessity of creating a "fake lake," with Muskoka/Adirondack (uncomfortable by either name) chairs on a cedar "deck." Apparently you sit in the chairs, look at stacks of canoes, and watch videos of other people enjoying paddling them on real lakes. This is all part of the press area. I guess the journalists don't get to go to the Muskoka part of the conference. I guess they can't just go look at Lake Ontario, either, which is a few blocks away, already built, and much more impressive. Not to mention FREE.

And, to venture further into the human-driven wackiness: the director of the CSIS, the Canadian Security and Intelligence Service (roughly analogous to the CIA), said Tuesday that politicians in western Canada have been "compromised" by foreign (*cough* Chinese *cough*) intelligence officials. Really? He wants to say this now? Yesterday he backed up a little. Maybe.

Of course, the security measures are drawing lots of complaints. (I guess they forgot the duct tape for the mouths of federal security agency officials.) As is the whole conference.

Sometimes I wonder if this hoop-de-doo is all designed to drive out of people's minds the fact that Stephen Harper missed the first yearbook shot at the last summit. Those narsty Brits said he was in the bathroom. However, his aides said he was being briefed. I'll let you make the underpants jokes.

Meanwhile, real news continues. Yesterday's Central Canada news cycle started with a commuter plane crashing near Quebec City and killing everyone aboard. Normally, that would be a big news day. Yesterday, it was overshadowed by 2 pm. Very sad. Oh, and Canadian forces are still dying in Afghanistan--148 too many, so far.

Of course, most of this is probably invisible to Americans, whose news coverage seems to focus on finger-pointing sessions about the oil spill (hello, still gushing down there!!) and the change in command in Afghanistan. Obama apparently could use some duct tape, too, though perhaps his idea (a new leader and strategy) will be a better long-term solution.

In any case, now all y'all are up to date.

In sum: Canada is a nervous host. Also: apparently wacky knows no borders. Shame, that.

Treasures

The deer found the tiger lilies,

which is actually kind of nice, since it means the deer are around.
We saw the fawn this morning.

And other treasures remain, if you know where to look.

But not this. (No, it's not mine.)
I'm going to pretend it was lost overboard, not left behind.

That makes it a castaway, not a castoff.
(Private property. As Piglet said, Trespassers William.
And all that. Grrr.)

Sometimes, when the evening light is a little wonky, the treasures are patterns.

And sometimes the treasures are pure gold.

Okay, a little bronze. But still.

Kermit was Right

It's nearly full-on summer around here (officially on Monday). The warm dry days of May are now the cooler but warmish wet days of June. The out-of-doors is available for enjoyment about 20/7, since "night" accumulates near midnight and the sky starts to get light at about 4 a.m.

Everything grows like crazy these days--energy made visible at the ends of evergreen branches, at the tops of lily plants. The "lings" (duck- and gos-) totter after their elders on dry land and strain to catch up to them in the water. A fawn peers from behind its mother.

So. Creativity. Visible growth. New projects. Energy. Everywhere.

Except here. Here, it's about saying some good-byes. It's about saying some "no, but thanks"-es. It's about hearing some "no" and some "good-bye" and even some "meh." Ouch.

Here, it's looking backward to review and assess. What worked? What didn't? How can that get fixed--can it get fixed, is that even possible? Is it worth it to me to fix? If it's not, is it okay with me if it dies a quiet (or not-so-quiet, or lingering, or very very public, or embarrassingly unobserved) death?

Even the forward-looking part of the process--conjuring dreams, visions, what-ifs, if-this-turned-out-perfectly-it-would-look-likes--are less inspiring than tiring (or, dare I say it, depressing).

And meanwhile, everything outside is green. But...



As usual, Kermit has more than one good thought. It's easy from here to overlook the green, in all its solid ubiquity, because the water is sparkling--over there. I'd rather be doing that shiny stuff.

And the thing to do, when one is out of synch with the season, is be grateful for all that is green. All the projects attempted, however badly executed, were still creative acts. The lives now finished brought joy and interest and laughter as well as annoyance and irritation. Without the joyful parts, there could be no sorrow at their end.

It's only those events that occurred in time that can't be fixed. Anything on paper can be revised at a time when I do have ideas and energy and creativity. And those someones who want to improve on the events that happened in linear time will have my notes to consider or ignore.

But Kermit's best thought for me, now, is "Why wonder?" I'm in the middle of a life of creativity, even if this part of it isn't the fun part.

Overall, this life is green, and it'll do fine, and I think it's what I wanna be.

Into Each Life...

Some trees must fall.

(Two, actually, although you can only see one.)

Fortunately, some lilies are also blooming--and more will, too.

Unless the deer get them. Although the deer seem to be scarce this year--we've seen one fawn, one time. Then again, today I learned there's a yearling bear in the area. Which may be why.

Trees, fawns, bears, flowers: Going to my happy place now.

Ahhh.

Summer Means Beer

To some people, at least. Beer at the baseball game, at the barbecue, with the hot dog or the bratwurst or the Italian sausage. Beer on a hot afternoon in the shade.

I'm not a big beer fan, but I am interested in advertising, and beer is one of the "you've made it" brands that every ad agency wants. According to Terry O'Reilly on CBC's Age of Persuasion, anyway.

And, from one of Terry's recent programs, here's one fascinating difference between beer ads in Canada and in the U.S.

In Canada, you can't show people drinking beer. In a beer commercial.

Seriously.

This prohibition apparently leads to other slightly arcane rules. If a beer bottle in a commercial is not full, the commercial has to show beer in a glass; the amount of the beer in the glass has to be the same as the beer no longer in the bottle. Otherwise, you imply that people are drinking beer.

And you can't show more beer containers than people in a scene because that implies that people are drinking, and more than one beer, at that.

I was so astounded by this that I missed some of the other esoterica, which you could probably look up somewhere. One rule had to do with showing cars (maybe all motorized vehicles) in beer ads. You can show them before you show the product, though it's frowned upon. But you can't show them after showing the product, because you can't imply that people drive after they have (not) been drinking. I think.

The other mainstream category I can think of off the top of my head that requires you not show the product being enjoyed is birth control. (Not counting anything in the porn/adult industry.) But fast food? Soft drinks? Cars? Okay, cars generally show a really awesome driver, not you, and no, you're not to attempt what you see, but still, someone is enjoying the product.

From the beer commercial prohibition, I deduce that Canadians are big believers in (a) controlling society through the subliminal messages communicated through advertising, and (b) making life hard for themselves.

At least if I find myself accidentally watching World Cup coverage (the Stanley Cup hunt being over), I'll know what to look for: decadent Americans (gasp) drinking beer!!!!

Hopes for the Summer

This summer is different than previous years in lots of ways. For one thing, in the cosmic sense every year is different (to me) because I'm different. For another, every year is different because the lake is different. Also the trees, some large number of which reach the end of their lifespan and fall down, usually in an inconvenient spot. And this year, we have unrelated people living next door.

It's also a different year because our projects are different. Except for the trees, which never seem to get tired of falling down.

Anyway. See this picture? Speaking of trees and some falling down.



See the green thing on the tree? That's a piece of tape. That indicates a trail. A nascent one. Call it a trail-to-be. For skiing. For walking on. For admiring views.

In previous years, the projects here have been focused on the camp, and seriously structural to boot: shore up the foundation. Put on a new roof. Re-roof the bathroom. This year, knock on wood, we don't have those--just painting, but I suspect that will be like the trees, never what you might call "finished."




But in the distance (like the corner of the "it may be a shack but it's our shack," above), I can see a time when NOT ALL the projects fall into the "because the place will fall apart if we don't" category. We'll be doing things like cutting the deadwood (and junk brush) out of those trails.


When we're not sitting on the beach, of course. (The spots in front of Caribou are kayakers. This is also one of those photos of a loon.)

It will be interesting, come September, to take stock and then to make our new resolutions for the fall. Resolutions being, like trees, never quite finished.

So Much for Holidays

The holiday frame of mind...

and yet, work remains.

Deadlines and whatnot.

Even "fun work": goals, you know.

But when I make the time to raise my head,

I can usually see something like this gull,

standing there

being a gull.

And that's still pretty darn cool.