The Brown Knowser

I love to scare people. Especially, at Hallowe'en. I don't go after the wee ones: I'm not cruel. I don't want the parents in my neighbourhood putting me in their bad books. But the teenagers are fair game. Over the past couple of years, I will don a black hooded robe and a skeleton mask. I'll sit, limp, in a Muskoka chair on my front steps, and make like I'm a stuffed dummy (no jokes, please). If I see a young kid approach my driveway, I'll pull off the mask, take the hood down, and pick up the bowl of treats. For the rest, I wait, lifeless, until they approach the door. And then I abruptly come to life and let out a spooky moan. And the screams are my reward. One time, however, one of my Hallowe'en pranks didn't work out as planned. But it sure created a fright. When I was in my teens, living with my folks, I would often hand out the treats. But I would always dress up, always as a ghoul or a monster. One year, I decided to do something ...

It's been a busy month, socially speaking. Brewmaster dinners, Thursday pints, photo walks, beer sharing, and tweetups. Lori and the kids are starting to miss me. But it all comes to an end today. Today is my last social event of the month and the last one that I will be organizing this year. And you're invited, but you have to act fast. Photo credit: D'Arcy McGee's Starting at 5:00 pm, I will be hosting a tweetup at D'Arcy McGee's pub on Sparks Street. And Jeff O'Reilly , manager of the landmark establishment and beer columnist extraordinaire, is graciously offering samples from the pub's new fall menu, including tastings of some new beer. And, of course, there is always great conversation and a chance to meet your fellow tweeps in real life. Interested? You've got to act fast. Seating is limited and the event is already more than half sold out. Go to my Eventbrite page and reserve your spot. On Twitter, follow the #BKtweetup ha...

I have a penchant for coming up with titles. Often, before I write a blog post, before I write any of my fiction, I come up with its title. Sometimes, while I'm thinking of the topic, a song may come into my head. Or some intertextual connection. From it, my title springs. When I was in journalism school, the same was true. I would cover a story, and while I put it together, the headline came to life. Sometimes, those headlines were to the point; other times, they were downright twisted. As part of the journalism course, our teacher would have us practice press conferences. The teacher would begin by giving us basic details of a story, and then we would have an opportunity to ask questions for a couple of minutes. When the conference was over, we were to take the information we gleaned and craft a news story. The one I remember the most was a story about a farmer who was killed accidentally when he fell into his hay thresher. We learned that he lost his balance as he was ...

Autumn came on full force, this year, and seems to be leaving in a hurry. Colours made themselves apparent on the leaves at the beginning of October, painting the Gatineau hills in bright reds, oranges, and yellows. A few, short weeks after, all that seemed left on the branches were a few yellow leaves, the reds long turned to brown, lying on the ground. With this week's rain and cold wind, I fear fall will be over before the month ends. But I hope, and look up to enjoy what is left of my favourite season. Happy Friday!

Last night, as I was watching TV and thinking that I should be writing a blog post, I fell asleep. By the time I awoke, shortly after 11, it was too late and I was thinking only of bed, so that's where I went. Instead of a post today, how about this morning's Bate Island Project photo?

Because I visit Starbucks regularly, I take advantage of the free iTunes downloads that they offer. Because of my addiction to coffee, I have been rewarded with free music and app downloads for my iPhone and iPad. And it's been great. However, there is one app that I downloaded for free that has become the most expensive app that I have on my phone. It's called SoundHound . Before the digital age, I can remember driving in my car, shopping or working in malls, riding in elevators, or partying at bars and restaurants, listening to music, hearing a song that I liked, and being unable to identify it. The only way to learn the title of a song or learn about the band performing it would be if you were listening to the radio and caught the DJ announcing the song. But now, knowing the song takes only a few seconds. SoundHound, like its competitor, Shazam , is an app that uses the device's microphone to listen to a song, access a vast database to match the song and pres...

I was worried that this was going to be a washout. The weather had threatened to be miserable, with rain and winds, and cool temperatures. And while there was a coolness in the air, the exertion kept us warm. And while the wind was blowing, we felt sheltered from it, for the most part. But there was no rain. Only glorious sunshine. The difference between walking the trail to the Tawadina Lookout three weeks or so was incredible. Where once stood colourful, leaf-laden trees now was bare and exposed much of the woods that were previously hidden. A relatively clear path was now carpeted in brown and yellow leaves: the red was all but gone. But it was still spectacular. My thanks goes out to Andy, Christophe, Deb, and Krista for making this autumn photo walk a blast. Our steady climb was rewarded with an awesome view; our trek back down rewarded with some drinks and food. Until the next walk, sometime in January.

She flew on wings like angels. Above the clouds, she was free to frolic with the birds. To head wherever the wind took her. Unfettered by the toils that burdened those below. The envy of the mortals, who could only look up to her. That's all I've got. Happy Friday!

Now that the Thanksgiving dinner is over and done, and the weekend of gluttony is behind us, Lori and I have noticed that the lean bodies we had at the end of our canoe trip are a distant memory. Not that we're fat or anything. And I, for one, haven't noticed any weight gain on my wife. When she told me that she's started packing it on, I denied it with a " Honey, you look great to me. " That's me, the brown-noser. She recently told me what our bathroom scale read to her when she stepped on it, and I told her that it must be broken. And then I stepped on the scale, and I feared that I may have been right, that the scale was, indeed, broken. But the scale isn't broken. We're seeing numbers that, while not astronomical, are higher than either of us would like to see. And so we've started a challenge. In the next eight weeks, I have to lose about 15 pounds; Lori, 10. We've started using our calorie-counting and fitness apps on our iPho...

I like to think I'm invisible. When I'm out on the streets, I like to think that I just blend in with the crowd, and, thankfully, most of the time, I do. I'm not saying that I have any kind of celebrity status or any kind of fame, whereby people come up to me and ask, "Are you Ross Brown? That writer and blogger, and photo guy?" Cos, believe me, I have no such illusions. But Ottawa is a small town and I know a lot of people. It's amazing how I can find myself downtown, or in the Byward Market, or in Westboro, and I'll run into people that I haven't seen in years. Or people who I haven't seen in weeks. Or months. But inevitably, wherever I go in this city, there's a decent chance that I'm going to run into a familiar face. Back me up, Ottawans: am I right? And yet, there are times when I want to go about my business or get to where I'm going without stopping to say hello. Without interruption. I'm shy, after all. But ther...

Sometimes, it's hard to believe that I have lived in Ottawa for 43 out of my 48 years on this planet, and not visited all of the museums and historic sites and attractions of our fair city. Like the Billings Estate Museum, the location of this month's Where In Ottawa . This national historic site is Ottawa's oldest surviving house, and is the oldest wooden-framed house in Ottawa, dating back to 1827-29. It opened to the public as a museum in 1975, and I didn't even lay eyes upon it until early to mid September. And I thought I knew Ottawa! Here are the clues, explained: Have you seen the bridge? Where's that confounded bridge?—yes, I was quoting lines from a Led Zeppelin song, but the clue had nothing to do with the iconic rock band. I was, of course referring to the bridge that Braddish Billings built over the Rideau River, in the area that is now called Billings Bridge, near where this house is situated. That's some old wood—one guess alluded t...

When I lived in South Korea, I used to join my ex-pat buddies every Friday night at a pub called ToBeOne. It was a bit of a dive, but the music was good and the beer was cheap, and every once and a while, there was local live music, including some of the talented ex-pats. One night, one of my friends even let me sing with his band (I think it was a sympathy gesture because I helped come up with the name of the band, which, if you want to know about, you'll have to wait for the sequel to my novel). But I digress. Actually, I haven't even really gotten to the point of this post, so here we go... Last weekend, I took part in the Scott Kelby Worldwide Photo Walk , which took a large gang of photogs through the Byward Market , up Wellington Street to Parliament Hill , along Wellington to and across the Portage Bridge, along the Voyageur path to the Canadian Museum of Civilization , and across the Alexandra Bridge, back to the Byward Market. It was a perfect autumn day, and I t...

On Tuesday, as the day wore on and afternoon rush hour loomed, options were explored and a decision was made to end the problem. With a bullet. Twitter traffic was abuzz in Ottawa with news of the elk near Lebreton Flats, close to the City Centre building. Pictures were snapped and shared across social media. Jokes were made about why the elk was there and how it made its way to that part of the city. Even I chimed in. Someone even created a Twitter account for the elk: @ElkPatry. By all accounts, it was a gorgeous specimen of a male elk. Majestic. But it was cornered, skittish, and after about six hours of being surrounded, became agitated. Photo credit: Vince Kicknosway, via OttawaStart If I was lost and surrounded by armed police officers for six hours, I'd be agitated too. I'm not questioning the police's decision to take down the elk. I don't expect the police to have the expertise or competence to deal with wildlife. If there was immi...