Love Bites

Ever since DW and I have been working from home, and especially since we went away, last December, to Cuba, our eldest cat, Camille, has turned very affectionate.

For as long as we have had her, she's been a funny cat. She pees in our ensuite bathroom sink. She likes to be around people but she doesn't like to be petted on her back as she walks past (she sinks her back toward the ground in an unnatural way to avoid being touched).

She'll pick up her cat food with her paw, one kibble piece at a time, and move it from the dish to the floor before she eats it. She'll grab one of DW's or the kids' hair elastics and will throw it into the air before hopping into the air to catch it.

When I had moved my work desk into the basement, Camille would sleep in a chair next to me, and would eventually move onto my lap while I worked. She'd purr while I stroked her and would occasionally lick the hand that pet her.

Camille didn't like the youngest cats, Finn and Cece, often swatting at them when they tried to get close to her. She'd hiss as she strutted past them.

When DW and I went to Cuba, Camille was forced to stay indoors with Cece and Finn. My parents came over, daily, to check on the cats but wouldn't let Camille go outside—she's the only cat of ours allowed in the backyard. My folks wouldn't have been able to get her in when it was time for them to head out, so she was forced to be an indoor cat while we were away.

Upon our return home, I discovered that a couple of panels of our fence had blown down, likely during a wind storm that hit the city while we were gone. Because the ground was frozen, and because our backyard neighbours had done nothing, I decided to wait until the spring before I would do anything about it.

Camille would have to remain indoors until we could ensure that she'd stay in our yard only (she isn't a jumper and can't get over the fence).

But we noticed that Camille also seemed to get along with the other cats. She had stopped hissing and swiping. She'd curl up next to them if they were sleeping. I even caught her cleaning Cece and Finn's faces at various times.

And Camille was purposely coming up to me to get a belly rub, and she'd curl up to DW on the sofa or next to me on the bed.

Last week, after a spin workout and I had gotten dressed again, I decided to continue watching TV in our bedroom, where we have the spin bike (I watch TV while I spin). I lay on the bed, atop the sheets, with my feet to the pillows and my head toward the screen, on my belly.

Camille jumped onto the bed and lay on my back. She had never done this before, and I could feel her purring.

"Good girl," I softly told her. I pulled out my smartphone and took a shot, which I texted to DW.

She responded with a purry meow, clearly showing her contentment.

And that's when she bit me between my shoulder blades.

She didn't bite particularly hard but it surprised me and hurt a bit.

"Ow!" I exclaimed. "What are you doing?"

Another purr-infused mew and another bite.

"Camille!" I said, "No!"

Another bite. She also burrowed her head into my back.

DW, coming into the room after seeing the photo, took Camille off my back. Camille was still purring and looking very contented.

"That's her way of telling you she loves you," DW said.

"I wish she loved me a little less," was my response.

I love how Camille has become more affectionate and I especially love how she now gets along with the other cats.

I don't love how she shows her love. Her love bites.

Waterspout

I've seen video footage of a waterspout before but never witnessed one, myself, until last week.

A waterspout is a cloud-filled column that rotates, like a tornado, over a body of water. Though it's above the water, the column isn't actually filled with water. And because the wind lacks the force of a tornado, it isn't as dangerous.

Sitting on the beach at Akumal Bay, DW and I were preparing to go back into the water with our snorkel equipment. We wanted to go further out into the bay to see if we could spy any other creatures, other than the sea turtle, stingrays, and tropical fish that were already spotted on previous outings through the week.

A week before we headed to Mexico, DW learned, through the Akumal Bay Facebook group, that someone had spotted a manatee in the water. Though we knew the chances were remote, we still wanted to see what was out there.

As I looked out to determine where we would negotiate the coral reefs, I saw the funnel descending from the storm cloud, a few kilometres to the southeast of us. Where it made contact with the sea, I could see water spraying upward.

Next to it, I could see another funnel, though it hadn't reached the surface of the Caribbean.

And then I saw another, further off.

I didn't think I could capture it with my smartphone, but I pulled it out of its underwater case anyway. Using the telephoto lens, which I zoomed to its maximum magnification, I captured a couple of still images.

I then switched the camera into video mode and captured a few seconds of the column, which showed no signs of abating. Also set to maximum magnification, I apologize for the hand shake. It's not the best quality but it's better than nothing.

DW and I were a bit hesitant to head out but I noted that the clouds were moving southwestward and that clear skies were above us. We certainly weren't heading out as far as the waterspouts.

Did we find the manatee? No. But DW spotted a small shark and there were plenty of colourful coral and fish to enjoy.

Happy Friday!

Beer O'Clock: Kashmir

Oh, let the sun beat down upon my face
And stars fill my dream
I'm a traveler of both time and space
To be where I have been—Led Zeppelin, "Kashmir"

Fourty-seven years, to the day, that this iconic rock tune was released, I still love it. Once it's in my head, it's hard to get out—not that I ever try to dislodge it.

One of the things that I like about Stittsville's Brew Revolution is that they give their suds names that take me back to good times, listening to the music that I grew up with and love to this date. Walkin' On Sunshine (their NEIPA). Vienna (a lager).

And Kashmir, a Norwegian pale ale, made with Cashmere hops.

I suspect that the folks at Brew Revolution use kveik yeast in their pale ale, to give it that Norwegian distinction. There's something in the flavour profile that gives me that impression.

Let's get into it.

Kashmir – Norwegian Pale Ale (4.5% ABV, 20 IBUs)
Brew Revolution
Stittsville ON (Ottawa)

Appearance: a clear, deep gold with a foamy white head that leaves a solid cap.

Nose: pear. That's it. Pear.

Palate: melon and lemon-lime citrus, with just the slightest hint of banana, and a flinty, mineral finish that coats the mouth with subsequent sips. It's a clean-drinking, dry ale.

Overall impression: the first time that I tried this Norwegian pale ale, I fell in love with it. It had characteristics that were both familiar and surprising. I reached for it when I wasn't in the mood for an IPA and it really hit the spot. It had a good, light body and lots of flavour. It was dry without being bitter and I could really discern the fruit flavours.

In reviewing Kashmir, I opened my last of four cans and was a little disappointed that my supply was coming to an end. And then I remembered that I could always order more, and I'll be sure to. Easily sessionable, I would drink this on both a cold winter's evening and a hot summer's day.

Beer O'Clock rating: 🍺🍺🍺

You can pick up Kashmir Norwegian Pale Ale directly from Brew Revolution or order it online and have it delivered for a nominal fee.

My Shangri-la beneath the summer moon
I will return again
As the dust that floats high in June
We're moving through Kashmir

Rock on... I mean, cheers!

Swimming with a Sea Turtle

Sound and Motion

What I'm going to miss the most about Akumal Bay is how each night, at bedtime, DW and I turned off the air conditioning, opened the door to our balcony, leaving just the screen door in place, and fell asleep to the rhythmic crashing of the waves, no more than 100 metres away.

Each morning, about 45 minutes or so before sunrise I would awake and look out our balcony. Often, there'd be only enough of a trace of the coming dawn to discern whether there was clear enough sky to watch the sun come up, either rising on the watery horizon or would be peeking through distant clouds.

At this hour, I could see Venus, shining big and brightly. A short distance to the right and slightly below, Mars gave a warm twinkle. And, further below them both but barely visible, Mercury would make an appearance if the clouds would allow it.

On our first morning, as I took in this view, the International Space Station silently crossed the sky directly above. Watching it pass, I wondered if any of the three astronauts aboard the station were looking down toward the Mayan Riviera at the same time.

I miss being lulled to sleep and awoken to such wonder.

I'll also miss the sensation that I felt, after spending an hour or so below the surface of the bay, exploring the coral reefs and the grassy beds, taking in all of the sea life. For hours after, I could still feel my body sway as though it was still being rocked by the pull and push of the tide.

One day, DW and I spent most of our day snorkeling, stopping only to eat or have a drink. When we decided to call it quits, we showered, dressed in comfortable clothes, and attended a fire meditation class, where the instructor burned oils and chanted, while we first sat and then lay on the ground, with our heads toward the fire. Throughout the session, I felt my body sway as though I was still in the water.

I almost fell asleep. At one point, I heard DW softly snore.

There was a time, as our vacation drew close, when I was ready to cancel the trip. Now that it's over, now that we're back home, I already miss these things. The sound of the waves, the wonder of the coming dawn, the motion in the water and the sensation it produced.

These will be the things that will draw me back.

Simply The Best

I wrote this post at the beginning of Saturday, before DW and I did any snorkelling on what was supposed to be our last full day on the Mayan Riviera.

Because we have not yet received the results of our COVID-19 PCR tests, we don't know if we'll be free to depart tomorrow morning or if the results show positive, which will mean another 10 days here (wouldn't that be nice!). DW and I have been as careful as we can be, wearing our N95 masks when indoors and trying to keep as much distance as we can from other guests, particularly those guests who don't wear any mask and seem to go about life as though there's no global pandemic.

I'm not keen that our resort does not enforce any sort of restrictions other than making sure all the staff wear masks. But that's my only beef about this resort. It truly has been paradise.

DW chose the Akumal Bay Beach and Wellness Resort because it has received stellar reviews and is an independently owned resort. She also picked this spot because it was right on Akumal Bay, where giant sea turtles come, year-round, to graze on the grassy sea bed. In 2019, we visited this bay and took a guided tour of the zone where many turtles congregate, and since then, DW has been dreaming of returning and seeing the majestic creatures once again.

There actually is no guarantee that you will see turtles outside the protected zone, which is prohibited except with a guide. But the turtles aren't prevented from leaving that zone and many can be occasionally seen if your patient or lucky enough.

DW has been following a Facebook group who share there experiences and insights into our resort, including the best a-la-carte restaurants, which cocktails to try, and where the best spots are for snorkelling, among other topics. Just before we arrived, someone had posted a photo of a manatee that had been spotted in the bay, while others said that they had seen no sea turtles.

The turtles have their own agenda and there are no guarantees you'll see any.

Last Monday, on our first full day at the resort, DW and I had a busy morning. We arose before sunrise and attended a meditation class, which helped us shed the stress from what was happening back home and to simply reset ourselves for the vacation ahead. I needed another reset mid-week.

After clearing our heads, we had a hearty breakfast at the buffet, where we could sit outside and look out onto the bay. It was magnificent.

Watching sunrise at breakfast (this morning).

From there, we attended a paddleboard class and made our way around the bay. We were too focused on staying aboard our board to see if we could see any marine life through the crystal-clear water. I fell over three times: once, taken out by a surprise wave, which also took my new sunglasses; the second time, I tried to shift my weight and overcompensated; the third time, my arthritic foot told me, under no uncertain terms, that it was done. I paddled to shore while on my knees.

Just before I lost my sunglasses.

Immediately after our session, DW and I headed to our room to get our snorkel equipment. Our intent was to scope out the layout of the sea bed and the coral reefs to get familiar with it. Akumal Bay has some of the nicest reefs anywhere and I captured a lot with my 360-degree video camera.

We saw so many varieties of tropical fish amongst the coral, and as we made our way toward a grassy bed, we spied a stingray (we had observed one, in 2019). But just beyond the stingray, after having been in the water for less than a half an hour, we came upon a juvenile sea turtle.

Simply the best!

There were two other snorkelers who came upon it at the same time, and we all hovered above, so as not to disturb it. Luckily, I could extend my camera about a metre below me, and it didn't seem to bother the turtle at all. I captured some stunning video, of which I created the following still image.

But as it's said of Akumal Bay, there's no guarantee that you'll always be able to see a sea turtle. Since that encounter, DW and I have been snorkelling every day, at least twice a day. We've covered a lot of space in the bay. We've seen myriad fish and two more stingrays. DW spied what she thought was a shark but by the time she got my attention, it was gone.

In writing this post, the last full day at our resort is upon us, and we'll be heading back under the waves. It would be nice if we could end our trip with another sighting, but there are no guarantees.

By the time you're reading this post, if you're reading this post on the day that it is published, we'll either be back at home or we'll be in isolation at the resort. In a way, I'm hoping for the latter: we could stand to be stuck here. We wouldn't be allowed to leave our room but we have a spectacular view and would be able to get room service. We have a jacuzzi tub on our balcony and excellent WiFi service.

In a way, we'd be better off than we would be, at home.

Morning, day, and night, you can't beat this view.

Find out tomorrow if we stayed or left. 

To The Rescue

Sitting around an all-inclusive resort, laying on the beach, sipping margaritas, and snorkelling in the surf can be pretty exhausting stuff, right?

Because of the pandemic, DW and I have not felt inclined to sign up for any excursion that would have us getting onto a bus with a dozen or so people for a couple of hours but we did want to do something other than stay on our resort. After all, we had done just that in December, in Cuba, and by about the fifth day, I was ready to come home.

Exclusive to our resort, we found a short excursion that not only allowed for a maximum of six people at a time, it helped out with a non-profit animal shelter.

Just past the western end of the town of Akumal (across the highway from Akumal Bay) is the Akumal Natura Rescue center, which specializes in caring for animals that have been injured or have been rescued from zoos or illegal captivity. There are monkeys who were injured from tropical storms, birds that had broken wings, and more.

The center focuses on three Rs: recovery, rehabilitation, and release. Animal welfare experts manage the seizure of captured animals or animals that are victims to misadventure. For example, a vehicle was pulled over for speeding and it was discovered that it was full of exotic birds, which were destined to be sold illegally. Another example was a monkey that had fallen from a tree during Hurricane Irene.

Veterinarians and animal experts care for the animals and bring them back to health. And when the animal is well enough to be self-sufficient, they are reintroduced into their natural habitat.

There are some animals that will never fully recover, such as some macaws that have had their wings clipped and can no longer fly. These animals will remain at the rescue center, where they will be cared for over the course of their lives.

One hundred percent of our admission fee goes to the center, paying for the staff and the cost of maintaining the facility. DW and I were told that our fee (1,600 pesos for the two of us) was going toward the construction of a bird habitat.

Our guide, Jano, was a professor of environmental studies and not only showed us many of the rescue animals but also described the natural trees and plants, explaining their toxins and natural healing properties. The center is also a sanctuary for Mayan bees, some of the smallest bees in the world. Jano let us sample some of the honey that these tiny workers produced and it was outstanding.

I'll have more to share on my YouTube channel in the coming weeks.

There was only one other couple that joined us on our tour, but they dropped out about halfway through, so we had Jano to ourselves as we visited the monkeys and finished the tour at a recently discovered underground cenote, which is also on the premises. It was a great way to end the tour with a cool swim.

The entire tour took about four hours, including transportation to and from the center. DW and I paid for a private taxi to get to the rescue center (400 pesos) and Jano drove us back (I tipped him 100 pesos).

Though we mainly took this trip to get away from winter in Ottawa (and the occupation/insurrection) and just relax at our resort, it was nice to get away and explore yet another fascinating place along the Mayan Riviera.

And to help a very important cause.

DW was excited that the center, as a way to help bring in more revenue, offered glamping, but I told her that glamping is still camping, and to get any thoughts of staying there out of her head.

Happy Friday!

Beer O'Clock: Finch Pale Ale

A few weeks ago, I learned something new: goldfinches change their appearance during the winter months.

For the past few years, DW and I have enjoyed the myriad birds that have visited the feeder in our backyard. Chickadees, nuthatches, cardinals, and juncos. We have even been surprised to find a couple of Downey woodpeckers visit our feeder.

Finches are common sightings on our feeder. We get house finches, purple finches, and goldfinches. But until recently, I'd only see goldfinches during the summer, with their bright-yellow plumage distinct and easily spottable in the green and purple leaves of our chokecherry.

Because I never saw our yellow friends in the winter months, I assumed that they simply moved on when the weather got colder.

Not so.

A few weeks ago, I saw a round-bellied, yellow-throated bird at my feeder and reached for my binoculars. "New bird!" I called to DW, getting her attention. I passed her the binoculars and went for one of my D-SLRs, adding my 300mm lens to it.

Having never seen a bird that looked like it before, I sent the photo to my Twitter followers, to see if they could identify it for me. It looked finch-like but I added that it wasn't a goldfinch.

I was wrong.

And that's how I learned, from my bird-loving photographer friend, Karen, that goldfinches change their plumage and indeed do stay in our neighbourhood.

Another finch that I discovered, recently, is one that doesn't literally fly but had me soaring to new heights and ready to sing its praises. And while I thought this Finch Pale Ale, by Bicycle Craft Brewery, might be better suited to summer months, I found it quite enjoyable in the middle of winter.

Let's take a close look at it. (No binoculars necessary.)

Finch Pale Ale (4.5% ABV)
Bicycle Craft Brewery
Ottawa ON

Appearance: mostly clear (slightly unfiltered), rich gold with a sudsy-white head that settles to a tight lace.

Nose: floral aromas mixed with lychee and a touch of pineapple.

Palate: fresh mango and distinct pineapple, with a kiss of lime on the finish. This is a clean, tropical ale.

Overall impression: while I tend to reach for this type of ale in hotter weather, I found it hit the spot on a winter's afternoon. Finch hit all the right notes in aroma, mouth feel, and finish. It's flavourful yet light, and I would reach for one any time.

Beer O'Clock rating: 🍺🍺🍺

Finch pale ale is available at the brewery or it can be ordered online. There's free shipping in Ottawa and can be delivered throughout Ontario for a modest $12 fee (a minimum order of $40 is required for these delivery rates).

I imagine that Finch Pale Ale is flying off the store shelves so capture some while you can.

Cheers!

Akumal Bay

Breathe

It's the first thing we do from the moment we leave our mothers.

It's the last thing we do when it's our time to expire.

Far too often, the time in between those acts, we find that the trials and tribulations of this meagre existence get to be too much, and the struggles weigh heavy upon us and make it hard to breathe. Just breathe.

When this happens, we need to take ourselves away from the familiar and give ourselves time to just focus on ourselves. To leave those burdens behind.

And simply breathe.

On our first morning in Akumal Bay, on the Mayan Riviera in Mexico, DW and I began our day, rising before sunrise and walking the beach, where we came upon a facility that was beginning a meditation class. I had never been to a meditation class before, but was open to trying it.

We had left Ottawa, leaving the stress of the Parliamentary District occupation and the pandemic behind. And we wanted to get that stress out of our heads and off of our chests, and begin our vacation with a clear mind.

Positive thoughts only.

We arranged our mats, blankets, and cushions on the outdoor deck, facing the beach and sunrise. Though the sun had been up for a few minutes, only now was it showing itself through the distant clouds. I snapped one photo before putting my smartphone away and putting my mind in the present.

Once we were in a comfortable position, our guide had us focusing on breathing. Of dropping our shoulders and relaxing, focusing only on the air entering our bodies and flowing out again. Deep breaths, in and out.

While my concentration was on breathing, my ears still registered the crashing of the waves, the chirping of the birds, high above, in the trees. Deep breaths, in and out.

It seemed like an eternity before our meditation guide spoke again. His voice was so soft, so gentle, as though it came with the waves in the surf. Leave the past behind, don't look to the future, he prompted us, just be in the present. Just breathe, deeply, slowly, in and out.

Find inspiration in every breath, our guide suggested. Be fascinated by simply breathing.

My breathing coincided with the rhythm of the waves. With every breath, my chest felt lighter and lighter. The trials and tribulations of my meagre existence were washed away. I felt as though the wind could carry me away.

I felt that my body was recharging. No more worrying about what was going on back home. No thoughts about returning home after vacation. I was just living in the moment, just enjoying life in the now.

Our session over, I was ready to start fresh. The real vacation begins now.

Wherever you are, whatever you're doing, just remember to breathe.

Travelling Light

I've left my D-SLR cameras behind. If I couldn't fit a camera in a pocket, it was staying behind.

One suitcase that had to fit my clothes, snorkel gear, footwear, and laptop. I wanted to be able to hop on the plane and hop off with as much ease as possible.

I really need to get out of Dodge but I don't need to take everything.

About nine months ago, DW booked us a vacation to Mexico. Ever since our trip, in 2019, she has wanted to return to the bay where we could swim with sea turtles. From the day we returned home, she has placed a resort on a watch list for a great offer: the resort is usually beyond our budget, so she wanted to know whenever its rates dropped.

They dropped last May, so DW booked us right away.

Later in the year, when she felt she couldn't wait for February, she also booked us a place in Cuba. It seemed that the winter of 2021–2022 was going to include two Caribbean vacations.

When the Omicron variant of COVID exploded in Canada, we were already on our way to Cuba. Just two days before we returned home, the Canadian government issued a travel advisory, and I thought that our Mexican vacation would be scrapped.

I didn't want to travel to Mexico in the middle of this latest wave but with hospitalization rates dropping and restrictions lifting, I feel this is a good time.

And with the Free-Dumb Convoy still not fully cleared out of Ottawa, now is a good time to get away.

Several times over the past few months and before this past week, I had asked DW to cancel our vacation, or at the very least to postpone it. But she told me to wait, that we had several weeks in which to cancel for a full refund, and she was closely monitoring conditions in Mexico and the rules around travel.

When the last day for a full refund came, DW said that we could reschedule our trip but wanted to wait further. We could reschedule up to three days before departure and she still wanted to hold off.

Omicron cases seem to have dropped off in many places and there has been speculation that the PCR test requirements may even be lifted for returning to Canada. (As of the writing of this post, nothing has changed.) But either way, waiting had paid off because even I am back on board for this vacation.

We're currently in Akumal Bay, on the Mayan Riviera. The beach that backs onto our resort is in the same bay where we swam with turtles in 2019.

In all honesty, I can't think of a better place to spend Valentine's Day.

And we've travelled light. One suitcase, each, to carry it all. No waiting around turnstiles with massive crowds.

I've brought two 360-degree cameras and my smartphone, so I will be capturing images. The posts for tomorrow, Wednesday, and Friday will be written and posted from here, in Mexico. Hopefully, I'll be back in Ottawa, in time for work, next Monday. The computer is with me in case anything delays my return flight and I have to remain, so that I can work from here.

Stay tuned.

Lines in the Snow

When DW and I returned from our Cuban vacation, last December, we discovered that a section of our backyard fence had toppled during a wind storm. Two panels had fallen into the yard of our neighbour.

We also discovered that our old neighbours of 22 years had moved and that their house was unoccupied when the fence went down.

The following day, snow fell and covered the downed fence, and I made the decision to not worry about it until the spring. A couple of weeks later, when new neighbours moved in, they either hadn't noticed the gap in the fence or also decided not to worry about it just yet.

I'm glad that one section of my fence is still in place. At this time of year, as the sun grows low on the horizon, its light pours through the tiny gaps between the wooden slats, casting long shadows of lines on the fallen snow.

These lines always draw my eye and get me to pull out a camera. There's something hypnotic about these lines in the snow.

Happy Friday!

Beer O'Clock: Collider Fusion IPA

The good folks at Spearhead Brewing Company never seem to rest on their laurels. Forever coming up with new brews to delight their loyal followers (at least, this loyal follower), it's sometimes hard to keep up.

In January, they introduced an oatmeal cream ale that was full-bodied, complex, and extremely satisfying. You should definitely pick some up (Beer O'Clock rates it at 🍺🍺🍺).

This month, it's a new collaboration with Sam Roberts Band.

I have loved the music of Sam Roberts since his debut album, We Were Born in a Flame, nearly 20 years ago, and made a point of seeing him every time he and his band came to Ottawa. I even met him, once, when he hosted an event at the National Arts Centre. He was friendly and kind, and took his time to get to know Kid 1 and me, rather than rushing his way through the crowd to get to his next fan.

A few years ago, when he collaborated with Spearhead to make a British-American-styled ale, I was very excited. This sessionable ale was malty, biscuity, and everything I liked in a good old-fashioned ale.

I was sad to learn, last year, that Spearhead was discontinuing it but little did I know that those crafty folks were planning a new collaboration with one of Canada's premier musicians.

Last week, my friends at Spearhead surprised me with a six pack of this new collaboration and I wasted no time in digging into it. Here's what I discovered.

Collider Fusion IPA (4.9% ABV, 22 IBUs)
Spearhead Brewing Company (with Sam Roberts Band)
Kingston ON

Appearance: a clear copper-orange with a creamy-white head that settles to a solid cap. Indeed, I let the ale sit for more than a half an hour, after pouring it, before I drank it, and the head held its own at about 5mm thick.

Nose: orange and grapefruit citrus. A classic IPA aroma.

Palate: I waited more than a half hour to take my first sip because I hadn't heard my doorbell ring when the delivery guy dropped off the six pack. By the time I discovered the package on my doorstep, it was so cold that I wanted to let it settle before I breathed in the aromas or felt the beer in my mouth. There's nothing worse than a beer that's too cold to taste.

In the mouth, I detected flavours of Orange Pekoe tea and grapefruit rind. On the finish, a hint of pine was the extent of the bitterness, and judging by the relatively low IBUs for an IPA, this is expected. While it's a full-bodied ale, with bold flavours, there is no in-your-face bitterness, and I like that. The finish lingers and invites you to have another sip.

Overall impression: great things happen when music and beer collide. Made with Brewers Gold and Eclipse hops, Spearhead also made classic and experimental hops collide. Sort of like Sam Roberts Band, which blends classic rock with experimental, new-world rock.

Collider Fusion IPA is a beautiful, classic IPA that deserves its name. It's easy-drinking, flavourful, and something that I could drink over and over. I'm glad that one of my favourite musicians teamed up, once again, with one of my favourite breweries.

Beer O'Clock rating: 🍺🍺🍺

Spearhead delivers its beer throughout Ontario for a modest fee (or free with orders over $100) and for free in the Kingston area. As I said, their Oatmeal Cream Ale is definitely worth adding to your order with Collider (among the other brews that Spearhead offers). And because both of these offerings are only available for a limited time, get your order in while supplies last. Do it!

Cheers!

Out in the Snow

Not In China

I'm not one to watch the Olympic Games in the best of times, but I made a point to tune out anything to do with last year's Tokyo Olympics because I felt that it was wrong to have such a social event in the middle of a global pandemic.

I feel the same about the Beijing Olympics but I'm doubly against these games because of the atrocities being committed by the Chinese government against the Uyghur people in Xinjiang, on top of the myriad human rights offenses against other Chinese citizens. As a Canadian, I am further disgusted by the political games that kept Michael Spavor and Michael Kovrig wrongfully imprisoned for nearly three years.

There are many reasons to dislike the Chinese government and to snub the Olympic Games.

That said, China is a beautiful country and the people I met, when DW and I visited in 1998, were kind and lovely. Last week, for the Chinese New Year, we ordered food from a local Chinese restaurant to help celebrate the beginning of the Year of the Tiger.

But I will never set foot in China as long as human rights continue and genocide is committed against a minority group that have made that country their home.

When The Conqueror Virtual Challenges app introduced a new route, late last year, I had reservations in joining it. The challenge follows the length of the Great Wall, a 3,513.1-kilometre trek that starts in Laulongtou, in the east, and ends in Yangguan, in the west.

I wondered that, by being in China, even virtually, was I going against my word to not set foot in China again?

The answer is of course not. My vow is against the government, not against the country itself.

Years ago, when I saw the division between Americans in the United States, I vowed to never set foot in that country again. People be crazy over there, I told myself. I've kept that promise but I did join the virtual challenge to travel Route 66, from Chicago to Santa Monica. I told myself at that time that the US has a lot of beautiful sights and while I won't see them in person, there was nothing stopping me from seeing them, virtually.

Sadly, most of Route 66 is a boring trek that passes shopping malls and flat, featureless landscapes.

I visited the Great Wall in 1998, realizing a dream that I had since elementary school. In participating in the virtual journey along the Great Wall, I'm revisiting that dream.

I can still speak out against the Chinese government while virtually travelling one of the great wonders of the world.

I started my virtual journey yesterday. It's only a coincidence that the beginning of this challenge is happening during the Beijing Olympics. The majority of the trek will be after the games are finished and I won't be following them, anyway.

Photos from the street view at the beginning of the wall, in Shihebi.

It took me 147 days to complete Route 66, which is longer by about 150 kms. If I can do this trek in 140 days or fewer, I'll be happy.

Stay tuned.

Checking Out

By Friday morning, I had had my fill.

I've always been a news junkie, even before I went to journalism school. I don't exactly remember when I became interested in the world outside my sphere of family and friends but I have clear memories of watching Walter Cronkite delivering our evening news on the television set, after dinner. My parents would eventually switch over to CJOH News, with Max Keeping, to get a Canadian perspective.

Years later, I'd watch Lloyd Robertson and Harvey Kirk deliver late-night news before going to bed. As I got older, I'd stay up later to watch Leigh Chapple tell me what was going on in Ottawa.

I love following news on TV, over the radio airwaves, and through Internet. But on Friday, last week, I said "enough."

I became absorbed in the occupation that is continuing in Ottawa and was becoming increasingly frustrated by the inaction of our police. It was becoming clear that what was veiled as a peaceful protest was becoming a hostile takeover of the downtown core, one in which members of our police force were sympathetic. I was considering joining Saturday's peaceful counter-protest, led by residents that are directly affected by the trucks and invaders who were digging in and building camps. But because of the pandemic and my aversion to being around crowds of people, mixed with the risk of unarmed residents against armed anarchists, I stayed home, which is peaceful, quiet, and a fair distance away from the chaos.

What does that say about me?

Meanwhile, a similar situation took place in Toronto, around Queen's Park—the provincial legislative building—over this weekend, and as the potential for a repeat of what is going on in Ottawa drew close, I grew anxious and worried about my daughter, who lives a few blocks away, in her university residence building.

I cautioned her to not stick around if the trucks surrounded her neighbourhood. Go to your aunt's place, where it's safe, I told her. My sister lives several kilometres north of Queen's Park.

Thankfully, the Toronto police were prepared, organized, and controlled the crowd. By late yesterday, most of the masses had been moved out.

Ottawa is a total failure.

On Friday, I stopped listening to the radio. I streamed only movies and shows on TV over the weekend, staying away from news outlets. I removed my Twitter tab from my computer Web browser and turned off notifications on my smartphone.

They've been off ever since. I've given up on staying tuned in.

I needed a break. The stress was getting to me. As a news junkie, I felt that the news was hitting too close to home and I didn't know how to deal with it. And so I simply checked out.

What does that say about me, I've asked myself.

Seriously, what does that say about me?

Detached

A few weeks ago, I attended an online meeting with my photography club, in which we shared what we thought was our best photos of 2021. As you know, I've been sharing my favourite photos of the year on the last blog post of December since The Brown Knowser started, so when this meeting was planned, I drew on some photos that I included in my year-end post.

In this meeting, we were asked to submit between two to five photos and be prepared to discuss why we thought these photos were our best of the year. We didn't have to submit photos that we took at a club meetup, which was good: in 2021, I only attended one photo event.

I submitted four photos from December's blog post: the pre-sunrise silhouette of Notre Dame Cathedral, in Ottawa, on the morning of the solar eclipse; the enhanced photo of Valle Crucis Abbey, from my 1991 trip to Wales (which was included because I brought the washed-out original back to life in 2021); the night shot of Toronto's cityscape; and the nude photo from the one meetup that I attended.

I enjoyed seeing other members' photos, many of which were also taken outside of a photo meetup. It showed me the talents of the other photogs and gave me some great ideas and inspiration for taking photos of my own.

One of our photographers loves to work with old camera lenses in a technique that is called freelensing, whereby you detach the lens from the body of a camera and hold it just in front of the body. You then move toward or away from your subject until it appears in focus, and shoot. The result is a super-macro image with an extremely small depth of field. There can also be some distortion on the edges of the photo.

It takes a lot of patience to get the image into focus and even more concentration to hold that subject in focus while you hold both the lens and camera, and snap a shot.

I decided to give this technique a try, myself, so I grabbed my Nikon D750 D-SLR and removed my 24–70mm lens. Inspired by my photo-club colleague's interest in old camera lenses, I took my old Minolta 58mm, f/1.2 lens from the SR-T 101, which is all but a museum piece that I display on a bookshelf.

When it came to coming up with a subject for this experiment, my choice was obvious: orchids. I love these flowers and our white orchids were in full bloom.

When I held the Minolta lens in front of the Nikon body, I found that what I saw was far too blurry to make out the orchids. They were just a haze of pink and orange, surrounded by white. When I tried to focus better by bringing the lens and body closer, the lever for the aperture control on the lens started poking the interior of the body mount ring and I worried that I might damage the camera.

The solution was to reverse the lens so that the front of the lens was matched up with the body mount ring (known as reverse freelensing). In doing so, I found that the orchid came more into focus and was magnified even moreso.

Keeping a steady hand was crucial and a huge challenge. It took several minutes and the steadiest hand I've ever had for shooting a photo. After my third shot, I had to call it quits because my hands were feeling the strain of holding the lens steadily in place and I didn't want to risk dropping it.

I only took three shots but I found that in post-processing, all three turned out pretty well. The purpose of this type of photography is to come up with a pseudo-impressionist style of photo, rather than a perfectly exposed, super-sharp image.

What do you think?

I'm going to try this technique again but next time, I'd like to put the body on a tripod to help make it a bit easier. I'll try again in the spring, when flowers bloom outside.

Happy Friday!

Beer O'Clock: Munich Dunkel

It's been a while since I've enjoyed a dunkel, a German lager. And truth be told, it's not often a style of beer that I tend to seek out.

If you've followed Beer O'Clock for any length of time, you'll know that my go-to brews are IPAs, stouts, pale ales, and saisons. I'm not typically drawn to lagers, though I do have a strong respect for them.

But I do like dark beer of all stripes: brown ales, Scotch ales, schwarzbier, and dunkels.

One of my favourite local breweries of 2021 was Orleans brewery, Broadhead. From the time that they were a small, hole-in-the-wall setup in Nepean, I've been drinking their brew since early 2012, with my first review of their Dark Horse Stout nearly 10 years ago. And every year since, I've had better and better brews from them.

When they released a Munich Dunkel in January, I thought I would have to give it a try. It seemed like the perfect beer for a cold season.

As part of their 174 Taproom series (174 is the highway that splits from Hwy 417 and leads out to Orleans), a batch of showcase-level brews, I had high expectations for this dunkel. Let's see what I discovered.

Munich Dunkel (5.5% ABV, 18 IBUs)
Broadhead Brewing Company
Orleans ON

Appearance: reddish-brown with copper highlights, and a foamy-tan head that settles to a thin cap. Lots of effervescence, with tiny beads that line the glass and pick up light.

Nose: caramel, biscuits, and lightly toasted malt. The aroma is inviting.

Palate: the malty caramel continues in the mouth, accompanied with bitter walnuts that temper the sweetness. The body is full and the finish is like a warm blanket.

Overall impression: this Munich Dunkel is perfect for a cold winter's night. Perfectly balanced with malts and hops, there is a seamless blend of sweetness and bitterness. Sip after sip, I struggled to find a fault—not that I wanted to find any. This is a highly enjoyable dark lager that I would gladly drink at every opportunity.

Beer O'Clock rating: 🍺🍺🍺

While my eyes don't typically focus on dunkels, I'm glad they fell on this one.

Moving into 2022, Broadhead continues to impress me with its 174 Taproom series. I have also tried their Schwarzbier and Single Hop Hazy IPA, both of which were highly enjoyable. In my latest order, I also included their Coffee Porter 3.0, but have yet to crack one of those cans open (perhaps today, as it is New Brew Thursday).

Broadhead offers free shipping in Ottawa (minimum $40 order) and a flat rate of $10 across Ontario (minimum $60 order). I highly recommend the Munich Dunkel (heck, I recommend them all!) so get your order in while supplies last.

Cheers!

Under the Sea

Free-Dumb Fighters

Here's what I've taken away from the aptly named #FluTruxKlan^* demonstration in Ottawa's downtown core over the past several days:

Photo source: Twitter.

• If you're white and angry enough, you can rest assured that the Ottawa Police Services will smile and help you hold a flag, rather than issue fines for drinking in public, or illegally parking, or harassing store employees and citizens who live and work in the core.
• You can call yourself a "Freedom Fighter" while pissing on the National War Memorial and standing atop the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier: you know, those symbols that represent actual freedom fighters.
• It's okay to decry that the government is stomping on your rights while you demand free food from a soup kitchen that is meant to help the homeless, and then complain that the government hasn't set up porta-potties for you.
• You can spout "Fake News" to journalists that are trying to cover the event while whining that your views aren't receiving enough coverage.
• Some Conservative Party of Canada Members of Parliament don't see a problem with shaking hands and offering coffee to protesters while standing in front of Confederate flags and signs that feature the swastika.
• Speaking of flags, you can wave a Confederate flag, a Nazi flag, and an American flag, and call yourself a "patriot," all while waving the Canadian flag upside-down.
• You can stick a sign on the statue of Terry Fox, calling for an end to vaccine mandates, while Fox himself believed in science and the advice of medical professionals.
• While about 90 percent of truck drivers are vaccinated and able to do their jobs, a fraction of the 10-percent anti-vax, anti-mandate mobs feel that they can disrupt businesses, including truckers who need to get their goods to downtown stores.

Our tax dollars at work (photo via Twitter).

This protest is costing the City of Ottawa $800,000 a day, and yet as of writing this post, there are no plans for the city to put an end to the protest. I can't imagine that if these demonstrators were protesting race inequality or were Indigenous, they would be treated with the same tolerance.

Meanwhile, trucks have been parked on streets that don't allow parking, idling for days and honking their horns at all hours (there are municipal by-laws that prohibit this action). The core is filled with diesel fumes: DW was skating on the canal, on Saturday, and as soon as she got north of the Queensway, she had to turn back because of the choking fumes. This is an environmental nightmare, and what happens when these trucks run out of fuel? Are they going to continue to clog the streets until there's enough room to tow them?

Like most Canadians, I'm all for peaceful protests. But this has not been a peaceful protest, as hotel and restaurant staff have been harassed and assaulted, both verbally and physically. Sure, there haven't been any major clashes or riots but there have been offenses.

This protest originally centred around the requirement that all truckers who cross the Canada-US border be vaccinated. Because this is a bi-lateral regulation, this protest is moot: even if Canada lifted the restriction (which it won't and shouldn't), the American border authorities won't let truckers enter their country without proof of vaccination.

Protesters then added that all mandates be cancelled: no masks, no social distancing, no closure of businesses and public gatherings. Most of these protesters seem to be anti-vaxxers and pandemic deniers. But what they seem to miss is the fact that mask mandates and business closures are under the jurisdiction of the provinces, not the federal government.

Blaming everything on the federal government, waving "F🍁ck Trudeau" flags falls under other people who have joined this giant tailgate party: people who don't like our current prime minister and are demanding that he resign. Even though he won the last election. I've also seen signs that have called for harming Trudeau.

Don't we have laws against this behaviour?

The #FluTruksKlan protest has become a lawless, racist, seditious gathering that has only one clear message: hatred.

I'll end this rant by directing questions at the protesters and the Conservative MPs that have supported them: if you're standing with people who want to cause harm to elected officials and are waving Nazi and Confederate flags, are you really on the right side? And if you don't agree with the hate-mongers, why are you not denouncing them or distancing yourselves?

^* a brilliant hashtag that surfaced at the beginning of the convoy.