In My Dreams

I had a nightmare the other night. It was right out of a zombie apocalypse movie.

Image: ioshmagazine.com

I was surrounded by people who wouldn't respect the two-metre distancing measures. I tried to protect my family but then DW and my kids would get too close to others, risking exposure to what I call COVIDy people. I had to run away from my family as well.

It was awful.

The very next night, I had a dream that also reflected this coronavirus pandemic. I don't remember the specifics of the dream other than that the government had declared curfews because idiots were flouting the social-distancing rule. The military was now patrolling the streets: law-breakers were shot.

I had no sympathy for those scofflaws. (Is that bad? Who cares?)

In a third dream, I seemed to be living life as I had before the pandemic brought restrictions on our movement, though I knew that there was still a risk, that the virus hadn't been beaten, but I had to be careful. I encountered friends who I dearly miss, but was reluctant to hug them.

Are my dreams prophetic?

I have noticed that my anxiety has vastly increased over the past week or so. I really don't like going into stores. I get stressed every time I have to put on latex gloves, be it to pick up groceries or to fill up my gas tank (thankfully, that's only happened once, with each vehicle). I know that eventually, we'll run out of these gloves and we will have to try and forage for more. Same with our disinfectant wipes: the other day, we used the last sheet out of one of our containers. 

When DW and I go for walks, I insist that we stick to the roads and not the paths that run through our neighbourhood. Roads are wide: paths are narrow. God forbid, we encounter another person walking toward us. I grumble when DW and I move off a path when a person we encounter, and that person maintains his or her course, not making any attempts to provide further distance.

"Oh, you fucking own the path, do you?" I murmur, though only DW hears it.

"Ross!" she whispers back in an admonishing tone. DW is worried about me, about my dreams, about my fear of being anywhere near strangers. She fears that I'm going to snap, and curse directly at others who I feel don't respect personal spaces.

Yes, we have a recommended two-metre distance that we must respect. But for me, I get anxious if anyone is within five metres of me. A 10-metre restriction would be better.

Yes, my dreams are getting wierder and wierder. But sometimes, they beat the reality.

How are you holding up?

Wordless Wednesday: Experimental Greenhouses

Losing Focus

Last February, I walked away from a seven-and-a-half-year relationship with my Ford Focus, replacing it with a new hybrid.

Before I said goodbye to my old car, which was rife with problems, I made a short video to outline the issues and to bid it a proper farewell. With my Insta360 One X video camera clamped to the passenger side door handle, I talked as I drove around Ottawa on my last daily commute in the Ford, making a detour through the Experimental Farm.

I also shot a scene with my smartphone, attached to the front windscreen, as I was driving along Highway 416, a couple of weeks earlier.

There's no continuity in the driving: I knew things that I wanted to say but they didn't come out in the order in which I drove, so the viewer can't follow my route.

There was a lot of video footage that I never ended up using. I had some great shots of my morning commute, but I didn't talk much and these clips only ate up time.

I really try to make my Brown Knowser videos short. This one is less than nine minutes. Have a watch...



What do you think?

I was thinking that when the weather gets better and when we can be outdoors without the COVID police reminding us to stay in our neighbourhoods, I might make a video of my new car, giving a review of what I like and what I think can be improved.

Stay tuned.

Music Monday: Cry (If You Want To)

When I brought Music Monday back to The Brown Knowser, I did it thinking that I would only be doing it for a few weeks—a month, at most—while we rode out this global pandemic. Back then, like many of you, I didn't think that self-isolation wouldn't last long.

After all, the coronavirus doesn't live long without a host.

And yet, here we are, seven weeks into this shut-in, with my sixth musical post that is COVID-19-related.

I miss my friends. I miss getting together with my family. I even miss being in the office.

I want to cry.

In the mid-90s, DW came home, late one evening, crying her eyes out. I was worried, as she didn't come home as expected and I had no idea where she was—this was the time before cell phones. And when she finally walked through the door, at almost 11:00, on a work night, with tears in her eyes, I asked her, "what's wrong?"

"I had tickets for us to see Holly Cole, tonight, and I forgot. And I had wanted to surprise you with them." She and I both loved Holly Cole.

"But why are you so late coming home?"

"I remembered at the last minute and rushed to the NAC. I tried to call you when I got there, but you didn't answer. I missed the first half hour."

We cried, together.

Here's Holly Cole:

If you're tired of self-isolation, it's okay to cry. But please, stay home.

Happy Monday!

Photo Friday: Nova Scotia

I've been trying to find the words to express my horror at what happened on Sunday, in Nova Scotia.

Words fail me.

My family knows the areas that were affected, and we know the wonderful Canadians who make this beautiful province the special place that it is. Nova Scotians are warm, friendly, welcoming. They are also strong.

We stand with them.

Wordless Wednesday: Social Distancing at the Experimental Farm

Music Monday: It's the End of the World as We Know It

For not the first time, and certainly not the last time, I've lost track of the days of the week. I rely, to some extent, on my smartphone to tell me whether or not I have to get out of bed to go downstairs, to the basement, and get to work. The radio tells me when it's time to eat, it's time to call it a day, and when it's dark and I'm tired, I tell myself to go to bed.

Time in and of itself is meaningless, these days.

Life's set of routines isn't as concrete as it once was. No one cares if I shave or not. It's no longer important what to wear. Though, I do try to make an effort, most of the time. I'll get out of bed when my alarm tells me to. I have a shower. I shave. I put on clean clothes. I go to the kitchen and, if time allows me and no meetings are pending, I feed myself. I go to the basement, turn on the computer and log on. I check my messages, line up what tasks I have, and the day moves forward.

I try to tell myself this is okay, this is normal. The new normal. But nothing about this is normal. I miss being around my peers. I miss getting together with my family and friends. I started working from home 41 days ago but it seems like it's been longer. Much longer.


How are you holding up?

Happy Monday.

Photo Friday: Care for Our Elders

In their youth, they fought for our future. It's now our turn to fight for them.

They deserve our protection. Stay home.

Happy Friday.

What'cha Watchin'?

Photo: Economic Times, via Google.

Before COVID-19 forced us to isolate ourselves from one another, we used to have my parents over to watch programs on Netflix and Amazon Prime. DW and I had introduced my folks to The Crown, even willing to watch seasons 1 and 2 over again so that my parents could catch up before we moved on to watch season 3.

We were doing the same with The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel, re-watching the first two seasons, when the global pandemic kept my folks away. We were only halfway through the second season, and DW and I are dying to see season 3.

We also watched the dark and disturbing British crime series, The Fall. We all needed to watch something light after an episode, and so we'd often put on the Baroness Von Sketch to bring our stress levels down.

Before self-isolation, my father had had a mild cardiac episode and had to spend a few days in the hospital (he's totally recovered now). While he was in the hospital, I lent him my Samsung tablet, which DW and I had loaded up with Netflix shows that we thought he would enjoy watching. When he returned home, I told him that he could hang on to the device, as I seldom used it.

I'm glad he kept it. He and my mother now enjoy Netflix, which they broadcast to their TV through Chromecast. At least, they won't fall behind on some of the shows we used to watch together.

For ourselves, DW and I have begun watching new shows to make up for the fact that we can't go to a pub with our friends, to a restaurant, to a movie theatre, or anywhere. Of course, these shows are new to us but have been around for quite some time.

We were watching Six Feet Under until I became bored with it, somewhere halfway through the second season. DW still watches it. We've started watching Boardwalk Empire, which is essentially The Sopranos, but in the 1920s.

DW and DD16 have started binging on Gray's Anatomy for the umpteenth time, and are hooked on Jane the Virgin.

One program that I just started watching is another British crime series, The Capture. Right now, I'm in the what-the-hell-happened? phase.

What have you been watching while you've been stuck inside? What shows should I check out?

I've been watching some YouTube channels that I follow, from photography and video tips to beer reviews. Some of my favourites include the following:

• COOPH (Cooperative of Photography)—ideas, tips, and hacks for D-SLR, smartphone, and video.
• Insta360 TV—because I have an Insta360 One X camera, I like to get ideas and see how shots can be done. And because Hannah Wilson is adorable (her Scottish accent makes me melt).
• Best360—Shanil Kawol reviews all 360 cameras but he has been a fan of the Insta360 One X since it was released and he has given me some great tips.
• Tony & Chelsea Northrup—this photographer couple provide great tips and reviews on a wide variety of camera and photography equipment. Their videos are also so well polished that I find them inspiring.
• INT AFFAIR—Jen & Rafael used to work in an office together and decided to quit, liquidate their assets, and travel the world, making videos along the way. I initially started watching them when DW and I were getting ideas for our upcoming (hopefully) trip to Belgium, Germany, and The Netherlands. I watched a bunch of their videos, not only for the travel information but to get ideas about how I would like to capture our trip on video. But I also fell in love with this cute couple for their dynamic, and became hooked on some of their videos from Thailand, remembering the places that DW and I had visited so long ago.
• Drunk Polkaroo—if you don't understand his name, we just might not be able to be friends. This Hamilton, ON, down-to-earth craft-beer lover (borderline alcoholic?) is part philosopher, part reviewer. He has reviewed a lot of beer (about 1,500!), often a couple each day. I'm both impressed and concerned at the same time. He drinks local, so you'll see beer mostly from Southern Ontario. He makes me want to go out and drink all the beer.

Of course, I have my own Brown Knowser YouTube channel, but it's in its early stages, as I become more comfortable in front of a camera and improve my cinematic skills. To date, I only have nine videos that waste just under two hours of your life that you're never going to get back.

But since you're cooped up at home, saving the planet by maintaining a physical distance from others, maybe now's the time to waste some time.

Happy watching.

Wordless Wednesday: Random Manotick

My Old Seven-Figure Income

Bear in mind, I was paid in cash, the largest denomination of currency being a 10,000 won bill.

On the last day of each month, my co-workers (including DW) and I would turn to the financial section of The Korea Herald, a daily English-language newspaper, and clip the foreign currency exchange rates. At the top of the list was the American dollar, the figure that we used to calculate our pay.

The rate was a day old, so on November 30, 1997, we used the rate that was published from November 29. The basic cash rate for that date was 1,163.8 won for every American dollar.

We used the American dollar because our contract was a fixed monthly wage, in USD. It wasn't a lot, even for 1997, but considering that housing and all utilities except phone were covered, we had precious few expenses. DW and I could typically send all of our base salary home and live off of any overtime that we worked.

And we also taught privately. Some months, that would double our income.

But it was nice to do the calculations at the end of the month, based on the rate in the Herald, and see that seven-figure value on the bottom line, after taxes (which was only 5 percent!).

Over this weekend, DW and I were cleaning through old records and file folders, and I came across a folded piece of paper with a newspaper clipping: it was this old pay statement. It brought back a flood of memories for when we taught English at a private institute in Chŏnju, South Korea.

The calculations were based on my regular monthly salary, plus four Saturdays, on which I taught supplemental classes at a high school near Jeonju University, less income tax. I would have made these calculations, filled out the form, attached the clipping, and given it to the secretaries in the morning. By the end of the day, the other teachers and I would receive envelopes that were stuffed with cash.

As I've said, the largest denomination was a 10,000 won note. For this pay, I would have received 195 paper notes, and a few coins. It wasn't something that I could easily fit into a pocket but it was always cool, I thought, to literally carry a wad of cash around.

Another sobering memory was that a month later, on the last day of December, 1997, the director of our institute, instead of delivering our pay, told my fellow teachers and me that he couldn't pay us, that he was closing up shop. We were at the peak of the East Asian economic collapse, and he was bankrupt.

It was a good gig while it lasted. Living in South Korea, teaching English, raking in a seven-figure monthly income.

 

Music Monday: We're All In This Together

Well, how are you now?

I hope that you're well and managing during this isolation period. That, if you usually celebrate a holiday at this time of year, that you were able to make the best of our situation and share some virtual time with family and friends.

Last night, DW, my kids, and I spent a couple of hours on Skype, hanging out with my parents and one of my sisters, who also live in Ottawa, with another sister, who lives in Toronto, my brother and his family, who live in Phoenix, AZ, and my niece, who is in Austin, TX. It was as though they were all with us, around our kitchen island.

Almost. Not quite. But definitely worth it.

Just remember that by staying indoors as much as possible, by maintaining a minimum social distance of two metres, and by washing your hands thoroughly and regularly, we'll beat this COVID-19.

Be good to one another. After all, we're all in this together. Together, we'll get through this.

Here's one of my favourite Canadian bands.

Happy Monday! Stay safe.

Photo Friday: A Different Angle

There are places around the city that I go to on a fairly regular basis to shoot photos: the Vimy Memorial Bridge, the National Gallery of Canada, Hog's Back Falls, Lansdowne, and of course, Parliament Hill, to name but a few.

There are objects that I make it almost a ritual to capture. When I go to the National Gallery, I have to take a picture of Maman. I love that spidery piece of art and depending on the angle that I position myself, I can make her look gigantic in comparison to the actual gallery or the cathedral that is across the street from her.

When I go to the National Arts Centre, I always stand in one of the two spiral staircases that have a multi-floor chandelier that looks like a bunch of ice cubes on a mobile.

And, when I go to Hog's Back, I often go to the pavillion, stand in the centre, point my camera straight up, and capture what looks like an eye but is actually a simple light fixture.

The last time I was there, shortly after the stay-indoors recommendation was made, I walked from Mooney's Bay Park to Hog's Back Park, my camera in tow. When I reached the pavilion, I took my usual photo, but then decided to take another one; this time, from a different angle.

I love looking at the same things in my city and seeing them in a different light, from a different angle. It's like looking at them anew. And it's why I never get bored of photographing them.

Happy Friday!

Eco-Friendly

Our family is moving to the next phase in doing our part to save the planet. Even if that means a little blood will be shed.

Six weeks ago, DW and I picked up our new hybrid automobile. While it's not a fully electric vehicle, it is much more fuel-efficient than any of our previous vehicles and can run about 800 kilometres or so on a single (45 L) tank of gas. And while we drove it a lot in the first week after picking it up (our CR-V was essentially left sitting in the driveway), we went more than four weeks between fillups on our second tank.

(Of course, being in self-isolation played a major role.)

After four weeks on a single tank: just under a quarter of a tank left and 121 km until empty.

When we initially ran the numbers, we'd calculated that we'll save at least $60 each month^* in fuel fillups.

Before we bought the car, we had begun reducing the amount of plastic that we've been bringing into the house. When we shop for ingredients at Bulk Barn, we bring our own plastic containers^*. At stores, we refused plastic bags. And for some products, we've stopped buying some things that come in plastic bottles. DW has bought bars of shampoo and conditioner, and we're finding that it takes so little to lather up. Instead of deodorants in plastic tubes, we have bars that seem to last longer. DW even bought glass bottles of powdered toothpaste.

Though I've always used bars of soap in the shower, DW recently gave up plastic bottles of body wash to do the same.

We used to use disposable razors, but recently both DW and I have made the shift to safety razors. This weekend, I even acquired a barber-grade brush and a tin of shaving cream. In the past, I would shave in the shower, using a bar of soap to lather my face and then using the disposable razors to remove stubble.

It's a new way to shave, for me. After my shower, I fill the sink with hot water and use my new equipment. The shave is slower-going but I get a much-closer shave. Maybe, too close: I haven't bled this much while shaving since before I had two moles removed from my face. (That's another story. Perhaps not.)

It's a small price to pay for reducing the amount of waste that plastic creates.

How about you? Have you moved away from plastic? Have you left your gas-guzzling vehicles behind? What steps have you taken to become more eco-friendly?


^*Pre-COVID living practices.

Wordless Wednesday: Nighttime in the City

Effects of COVID

DW and I haven't talked about our autumn vacation plans in more than a month. We've even stopped our German lessons.

We're still hopeful that we can make it over to Belgium, The Netherlands, and Germany. After all, we don't leave until mid-September. But as health officials give us grim numbers with the COVID-19 pandemic and the government continues to enforce strict travel measures that they say may go on for months, our hope is waning.

Financially, it's no big deal. All of our hotel reservations were made with free cancellation, if cancelled within 48 hours of arrival. And while we didn't purchase cancellation insurance on our plane tickets, we're hopeful that if our government says we can't go, the airlines might let us postpone our departure. Even if they don't, we were able to get our tickets for about $650, each, and though it would sting to walk away from them, it wouldn't be devastating.

When our city shut down public venues, such as libraries, recreation centres, and theatres, on March 13, DW and I had concert tickets for that very night. The artists, Sarah Slean and Hawksley Workman, were just arriving in Ottawa when they were told to turn around. We've been told that the concert will be rescheduled as soon as it's safely possible, and that our tickets will still be valid, but I still felt for Sarah and Hawksley, whose tour was suddenly cut short and were put out of work.

Sarah Slean will be putting on a show, from her home, on Sunday, April 19. If you want to hear her beautiful music and support this fabulous artist, you can buy your tickets here. I don't know if DW plans to join me, but I bought her a ticket, too.

DW and I try to pick a time for our daily walks when there will be few people who are doing the same thing, but it's getting harder. Lots of neighbours are also wanting to get out of their homes, too, and we're finding some sidewalks are becoming crowded. We cross the street when we can, or step out onto the road.

Lineups are becoming the norm at grocery stores, as staff try to limit the number of people inside. But not everybody, once inside, take measures to maintain a minimum two-metre space. Some even seem to disregard the one-way signs down aisles, meant to keep people apart.

Last week, when I made a run to the LCBO, three guys (who I'm hoping live together) blocked one aisle while they chatted; another guy, even though hand sanitizer is sprayed on your hands as you enter, handled a lot of bottles and cans without adding them to his cart. Even one staff member, in his efforts to guide me to the Cointreau, kept getting too close to me.

When I shop, I wear disposable gloves. I don't touch anything unless I plan to buy it. I have a bandanna and I've started wearing my safety glasses. Soon, I just won't bother going to stores.

As I wrap up my fourth week at staying home, I find that my mood has turned. Ennui is starting to set in. By mid-afternoon, I crave naps. I'm set up to work from home in my basement, which has two small windows that don't let in much light. And as I spend more and more time in this dungeon, my motivation to leave this space dwindles. One day, last week, I went downstairs to start my workday. When I was done for the day, I stayed at the desk: I wrote four blog posts. I edited photos. I edited a video that I had been putting off for a couple of weeks.

By the time I came upstairs, it was after midnight. With the exception of a couple of bathroom breaks and grabbing something to eat for lunch (I skipped dinner), I had stayed in the basement for almost 17 hours.

DW now calls me "Mole-Man."

This time of self-isolation is becoming tough but I tell myself that it's worth it. We all need to do our part in stopping COVID-19 in its tracks. And though it isn't easy, we all must do our part.

After all, I want to see Sarah Slean and Hawksley Workman perform together. I want to be up close, second row, centre.

And I want DW and myself to fulfill our European adventure in the fall. We've already made many plans over the first couple of months of 2020. I want to get back to adding to those plans.

How are you coping? Leave a comment.

Music Monday: You're Not Alone

It's well enough for me to be confined to my home during the COVID-19 pandemic. I have a wife and two fun kids to keep me company. Not to mention, two adorable cats.

I'm fortunate.

But I can't help think about those who are in self-isolation, on their own. If you're one of those, I hope you have friends and family who you can reach out to. Someone you can call, or chat with through Skype or FaceTime, or other reach out to in other ways.

If you're able, arrange to meet a friend in a place where you can go for a walk while maintaining a healthy two metres from each other.

For all of you in isolation during this unprecedented time, here's a song that will hopefully lift your spirits. It's by my favourite female singer, Sarah Slean.

Oh, and if you like Sarah and want to see her perform, live, in her home living room, on April 19, go to her Side Door Access site to get yourself a ticket.

Help support a fabulous artist. Joining a crowd, even virtually, proves that you're not alone.

Happy Monday!

Photo Friday: Sunset by the Side of the Road

I know that during this pandemic, we ought to stay indoors, save for exercise such as a walk or run around your neighbourhood. But last Friday, I really needed to get out by myself.

So, I grabbed my camera gear, hopped in the Niro, and drove.

I had no planned destination, no pre-conceived notions of what I wanted to photograph. I just got in the car, and drove.

When sunset came, I was driving on country roads to the southwest of the city and toward Richmond. When the sun fell low on the horizon, I could see it across a flooded farm field, through bare trees. I pulled the Niro over and got out. I walked back to where the water, which came from the melted snow but couldn't be absorbed into the frozen earth, was casting reflections of the trees.

I think that these are my first series of sunset photos for 2020. If you want to see them, check them out on Instagram.

Of all the photos I shot of the sunset, my favourite of the bunch is the one in which I included my car. It sums up what I was up to and I had a title for the photo even as I was composing it in the frame: Sunset by the Side of the Road.

My drive continued back toward town and I ended up in the ByWard Market, which had turned into a ghost town. I took pictures in Major's Hill Park and at the National Gallery before heading home. If you follow me on Instagram or Twitter, you may have seen those photos already but I'll share them next week, for Wordless Wednesday.

Happy Friday!
 

Love in the Time of COVID

Today marks Day 16 since my company directed me and my peers to work from home until at least April 6. The same directive was made of DW, so we've been working under the same roof ever since.

Of course, a lot has changed since March 12, with the governments stepping up and ordering non-essential workers to stay at home and it looks as though we could be stuck indoors until May.

It's a good thing that I love my family.

The kids have handled this pandemic rather well, all things considered. DD16, who was beginning March Break as of the 14th was grumpy at first, but as long as she could be on FaceTime with her friends, she was fine. One of her friends even visited, briefly, as she and her mother were running errands and drove up to our house. DD16 and she chatted, face-to-face, from a safe distance.

DD19 is a homebody by nature, and is perfectly content to spend hours in her room, playing video games or streaming movies on her computer. She was recently accepted to her dream program, next fall, and has been registering for campus residency and making plans. If this pandemic is done by the end of summer, she'll be flying from the nest.

(I will not cry. I will not cry.)

DW has set up her office space in our dining room: I'm in the basement. So far, we haven't been much of a distraction for one another. We usually have coffee and breakfast together, and then we head to our respective desks, not seeing each other again until I come up for more coffee or until lunch—though I usually take my lunch down to the basement, where I eat while I continue to work.

Old habits die hard.

At the end of the day, she and I go for a walk around the neighbourhood or somewhere that we hope is away from other people.

When we need groceries, only one of us goes. There's no point in subjecting two people to possible infection, and the last thing that stores need is more people crowding the aisles. Full grocery orders are collected once a week. If we've forgotten something, it has to be really important to warrant a second trip.

We haven't filled our car with gas since March 14 and don't expect to do so for a few more days. That's not just because our hybrid is that much more fuel-economical: that's because we don't go anywhere.

I was talking with my mother, and she was saying that we're very fortunate: no one in our family is sick, all of my siblings are able to work from home, and we will probably ride out this difficult time and come out on the other side, unscathed. She's absolutely right.

In the meantime, we'll do our part, avoiding unnecessary trips outside, keeping a safe distance from others, and helping to flatten that curve.

It helps that I love being around my wife and kids. It makes this pandemic livable.

How are you doing? Hang in there. We'll all get through this.

Wordless Wednesday: Around Lansdowne