First Sunset?

Of course, this isn't my first sunset photo of 2022.

I've taken photos from my bedroom window, as early as January, as I rode on my spin bike after work. I'd pick up my smartphone, point at the dying light, and shoot.

Easy. Lazy.

Nice sky. Boring composition.

On our first evening on the beach at Akumal Bay, we strolled along the sea-washed shore and admired the fading sun, the hues of orange and pink. Again, with my smartphone in hand, I snapped a few memorable shots.

But I haven't picked up a D-SLR, headed out to a specific location, and waited for the sun to sink below the horizon.

Until last night.

I have a couple of favourite spots for capturing a sunset in Ottawa, but my go-to place is usually Andrew Haydon Park, along the Ottawa River. Perhaps because of the reflective pond and the towering windmill, which creates a great silhouette in any season. Same goes for the trees.

And while the wind was fierce, last night, blew ripples that prevented any kind of reflection in the pond, and sent a chill through me that had me packing up my gear as soon as the sun had vanished from view, it still made for a worthwhile photo.

So here is my first planned sunset photo of 2022. Hopefully, I won't wait for a third of the year to go by before I take another one.

Happy Friday!

Beer O'Clock: Space Age Sunshine

It seemed the perfect beer to pick up over the Easter weekend. A cute bunny rabbit on the label. But it had that twist that perfectly aligned with my sense of humour. The bunny donned a space helmet and was shooting lightning bolts from its eyes.

Only Flying Monkeys could think up something this bizarre.

I've had IPAs. I've had double-dry-hopped IPAs. I've even had the rare triple-dry-hopped IPA. But this was the first time that I had a quadruple IPA. And a creamsicle IPA to boot (added lactose?). At more than 11 percent alcohol! It seems that Flying Monkeys had pulled out all the stops for this ale. But how does it taste? Will the high ABV kick me in the head... or rather, zap me with those lightning bolts?

Only one way to find out.

Space Age Sunshine Quadruple IPA (11.6% ABV; 60 IBUs)
Flying Monkeys Craft Brewery
Barrie ON

Appearance: a slightly unfiltered tangerine amber with a foamy, white head that settles to a solid cap.

Nose: loads of orange rind, backed with tropical notes and pine resin that invite you to take a sip.

Palate: I hadn't noticed the alcohol content on the label before I took my first sip, and was pleasantly surprised afterward because the alcohol didn't strike me right away. This is well balanced with the fruit, the hops, and a vanilla finish (there are vanilla beans that were used in the production). The orange juice is apparent but is tempered with a pine resin and pineapple notes. It finishes refreshingly clean. Though the label says "Orange Creamsicle," creamy didn't really register on my palate. Over time, the alcohol builds in the mouth but doesn't wallop you.

Overall impression: while I would stop myself at just one pint of this ale (two would have me reaching for my pillow), I would look forward to the next one. This is a juicy, luscious ale that is packed with complex flavours and has an inviting aroma that calls to you. It is highly enjoyable and highly recommended. But please drink responsibly.

Beer O'Clock rating: 🍺🍺🍺

You can find Space Age Sunshine in your local LCBO (it's currently on sale) or you can order it straight from the brewery. You don't have to wait for Easter to come around again.

Cheers!

From RAW to Edited to Enhanced

Where To Next, Peeps?

Many years ago, when DW and I were looking ahead to our next car and we were considering going fully electric, we actually looked to Tesla, among other auto manufacturers. We actually voiced that we would buy a Tesla, in spite of its owner, Elon Musk.

"Twitter Musk" via Neural Blender.

By the time we came to actually needing to replace one of our cars, I told DW, "You couldn't pay me to take a Tesla. There's no way I'd want to have anything that's associated with that a$$hole."

I've made a lot of friends on Twitter. Many, I've met in real life, and there are those who I would drop everything to help out, if needed. Some of my dearest friends started out as Twitter acquaintances.

And now, the guy who could never sell me one of his cars just bought this social media platform for his own ego. And it breaks my heart.

When I think of what I would do if I had some $44 billion to spend, I like to think I would use it to help house and feed the needy. To put it toward medical research. To help fix my country's aging infrastructure.

To help Ukraine fight Putin.

What a colossal waste of money.

Having Musk in control of Twitter leaves a shitty bitterness in my mouth. It makes me want to walk away from the platform. But where do I go?

I want to keep in touch with the virtual friends that I've gotten to know over the more than 11 years that I've been on Twitter. I know that some of my connections are also thinking of jumping ship, and if that's the case, where do we go?

I'm going to watch and wait to see where my peeps go. I'd like to keep in touch. A good percentage of the traffic to The Brown Knowser comes from Twitter. I'd still like to keep those followers.

But I think my days on Twitter are numbered.

(Just curious: what happens if everyone who is against Musk's purchase of Twitter blocks him on the platform?)

Not the Breakfast Club

When I was in high school, there was a hallway that ran along the back of the second floor, bridging the bulk of classrooms from the music room. Along one wall in this corridor were windows that looked below, into the cafetorium—part cafeteria, part auditorium; on the opposite wall, windows that looked out to a rear, outdoor square, and further, to the sports track and field.

On this exterior side of the hall, long benches were built into the wall space, below the windows, and these benches and the floor were carpeted in a heavy-duty red fabric.

This corridor was affectionately known as the Red Room.

Typically, the senior high-school students would use this area to hang out, relax, or work on homework. But as early as the tenth grade, my friends would join the older students in this space. Some would even interact with us.

In the ensuing years, this is where I could always be found, between classes. I would arise early in the morning, make my way to school at least an hour before homeroom started, and would either work on homework or just chill. In the ceiling tiles above my usual sitting spot, I kept a green tray that came from the cafeteria, which I could spin endlessly on the tip of a finger. This particular tray was a bit buckled in the centre and was perfectly balanced, so it would only fall when I grew bored of spinning it.

When I left high school, in 1984, I took that tray with me. I still have it to this day.

(I wonder if I can still spin it??)

Throughout grades 11, 12, and 13, I was developing my photography skills, borrowing my father's Minolta SR-T 101, and in my final two years, I was a photographer for our school yearbook.

You would think that I had taken countless photos of the Red Room but when I look at old photos, my subjects always tended to focus on my friends. A lot are closeups of friends, the Red Room a blurred out background. The only photo that shows any bit of this popular space still has friends filling the frame.

I look at this shot and think back to those days in high school. I'm still good friends with two of the people in this photo. I lost touch with a third person a few years after graduation; the fourth person, I haven't seen since our last day of school.

There are plans underfoot for a 50th anniversary high-school reunion, sometime next year. Even though the school has changed names, changed school boards.

I don't know whether I'll go or not. I already keep in touch with the friends that I want to keep in touch with, so if they go, I'll definitely join them. There are some teachers that I'd like to see again, such as my music teacher. My favourite teacher passed away a few years ago, and there are very few remaining teachers that had enough of an impact on me to warrant seeing them again.

Time will tell.

For now, I'll look at this photo, remember some of the good times, and think back to the Red Room (which disappeared, annexed by the music department, a few years after my friends and I were gone).

Rituals

It is almost a weekend ritual for us.

For the past few weekends, DW and I have gotten up early, hopped in the car, and driven to Mud Lake to wander the trails and take in the nature. It's a calming way to start our day.

I say that it's almost a ritual because we haven't done it every weekend. We seldom drive out to this popular spot more than two consecutive weekends. It almost happened this past weekend, but we slept in and, when we finally decided to get out and hike a nature trail, we drove to the east end of the city and wandered Mer Bleue Bog.

The last time we were at Mud Lake was two weekends ago, when there was a great blanket of fog that made for some amazing photos. And while I kicked myself for deciding to leave my D-SLRs at home, my smartphone did the trick.

We'll likely go for another wander at Mud Lake this weekend, but I'm still not calling it a ritual. For a ritual, you have to commit to three times or more. Consecutive weekends. We've been to Mud Lake more than three times over the past couple of months, but no more than once or twice in a row, and then a break.

Third consecutive visit makes it a ritual. They say that if you do something three times or more in a row, it becomes habit-forming.

We'll see.

Happy Friday!

Beer O'Clock: Your Pick

I have gotten so in the habit of ordering my beer online that I rarely step into an LCBO with the purpose of looking for new beer.

I really wasn't planning on doing it this past weekend, but DW and I were just coming out of Costco and when she noticed that there weren't many cars parked in the lot close to the neighbouring liquor store, she asked me to pull up.

"I've been wanting to pick up some St-Germaine for a while," she said.

For those of you who don't know, St-Germaine is an elderflower liqueur that tastes a lot like lychee. DW bought a couple of small bottles, last December, to give as Christmas gifts and she kept one for herself.

It was a tasty treat.

As the parking lot promised, the store was quiet. DW made her way to the spirits aisle and I headed straight for the back of the store, to the refrigerated section where the beer is kept.

As the sliding glass doors parted, I was immediately met with a display and sign that read "New Beer." This would be as far as I would go. Three brews, each from a different brewery, caught my eye. I grabbed one of the shopping baskets that were conveniently stacked by the entrance and loaded up two cans of each style.

Over the weekend, I tried a can of each beer and was pleased to discover that I liked all of them. They each had a distinct style and each were good examples of that style. I told myself that I'd be happy to write a review for any one of them.

The problem was, which one would I review first?

I left that decision to my Twitter followers. Yesterday, I posted a poll and asked my peeps which style of beer I should review next. The choices were IPA, maple ale, and sour. Because I needed enough time to crack the winning beer open, review it, and write this post, I allowed only a two-hour window for people to cast their votes.

Here's the beer that 85.7 percent of the pollsters chose:

Maple Beer (5% ABV)
Brew Microbrewery
Windsor, ON

Appearance: pours an unfiltered, medium gold with a creamy white head that settles to a solid, half-centimetre cap. Reddish-brown sediment, almost like dark sugar crystals (maple sugar?) fell to the bottom of my glass.

Nose: rich, sweet maple syrup can be detected from about a half-metre away. With my nose right up to the glass, this smells like something that you would pour over fresh-out-of-the-oven pancakes (yes, DW makes oven-baked pancakes: they're awesome!). There's a lingering aroma that reminds me of buckwheat.

Palate: the maple syrup continues as the leading star of the flavours in the mouth, but there's a spice that backs up the sweetness in the finish and also reminds me of buckwheat, but it's actually ginger, which is one of the ingredients that has been added to the batch. The mix of maple and ginger is a winning combination.

Overall impression: it's been many years since I've had a maple ale, and at the time, McAuslan's St-Ambroise Erable was the benchmark of maple beer. But Brew Microbrewery's Maple Beer gives St-Ambroise Erable a run for its money. The only thing this beer is missing is smoke from the sugar shack. It's sweet without being cloying; it has a rich maple flavour that makes me long for a breakfast treat; it makes me think that I need to brush my teeth right after finishing a glass; yet, it has a light to medium body that makes it nice to drink—that is, it's not so rich and sweet that I can't finish the glass.

I don't reach for maple beer often but during maple syrup season, this is a great one to grab.

Beer O'Clock rating: 🍺🍺🍺 this is a very good maple beer with a bit extra.

This brew is currently available throughout Ontario, in the LCBO, or can be ordered online directly from the brewery (they seem to have a sale on). The brewery also has a lime beer and various wines.

Have you got a particular style of beer or a specific brew that you'd like to see me review? Leave a suggestion in the Comments section and I'll see what I can do. I'll review the other two beers in the coming weeks.

Cheers!

On The Boardwalk

Video Redux

I was sure that I had made some videos to go with photo projects that I had created for The Brown Knowser. There was my Bate Island Project. The Hog's Back Project. And, of course, my 100 Strangers project.

But these videos were not on my Brown Knowser YouTube channel.

Of course, they couldn't have been. These projects were over long before my YouTube channel was created, in late 2019. Had I only shared these videos directly into my blog?

It's surprising to me that I can forget that I had created another YouTube channel, years earlier. For the most part, it was a way for me to share family activities with friends and extended family, but I also experimented with videos that were closer to what I do on this blog.

It wasn't until December, 2019, that I decided to start a new YouTube channel that would exclude family-oriented events (which I had made private, anyway) and only post videos that would be publicly accessible. At the time, I had copied some of my videos over to the new channel—the ones that were intended for public consumption.

But I must have become distracted at one point and not moved my photo-project videos to the new channel.

It's funny how, once I had established the new YouTube channel that I had all but completely forgotten about the old one.

Last week, when I paid the old channel a visit, I discovered these videos and started copying them over to The Brown Knowser channel. But I decided to make some modifications.

When I had created a couple of these videos, I used copyrighted music. Bringing them over to my Brown Knowser channel, I decided to change the soundtracks to royalty-free music. That wasn't an issue with the Hog's Back Project video, as it used free music. But in changing the 100 Strangers video, I had to swap out the music and ended up recreating the video from scratch.

I haven't yet done the same with the Bate Island Project, but I'll likely re-do that one as well.

Stay tuned.

I've also decided to create other photo-project videos, such as compilations of my year-end, best photos of the year posts.

Again, stay tuned.

I'll leave you with the redux version of my 100 Strangers video. Enjoy!

Happy Tuesday!

Easter Surprise

Perhaps it was karma.

There's the adage "karma's a bitch" but sometimes it can be a gift. If what happened on Saturday was, indeed, karma, it took nearly eight years to come around.

His jacket had a pocket for everything: the left pocket held keys to the house, mailbox, and bike lock. The key chain also had a small bottle opener, for just such an occasion. In the right pocket, he stored the keys to his vehicles.

There were two breast pockets: in the right one, he kept a mask for when he was indoors or in close proximity to people; in the left, his smartphone was always handy.

There was a fifth pocket, on the left sleeve, and it was so small that it could only serve one purpose: to hold his small wallet. The wallet was a simple RFID case that could hold about four or five cards. In it, he kept his debit and credit cards, his drivers' license, and his health card. When he worked at his office, it also held his ID badge so that he could gain access to the secured building.

Often, it would hold an emergency $20 bill.

On this Saturday morning of the Easter long weekend, his wife sent him on an errand to his local grocery store. They were basically well-stocked with essentials but because this was the Easter weekend, they wanted to have a nice dinner, even though neither were religious nor were both kids at home to participate in the traditional egg hunt.

It would be a small, quiet meal.

He was sent to purchase a small ham, to get some fresh fruit and a couple of vegetables. Because he loved the artisan sausages, he decided to pick up a couple, to cook, crumble, and add to homemade pizzas sometime through the week.

He was a sucker for the store-brand potato chips, so he threw a couple of bags into the cart. And as much as he was addicted to the chips, his wife loved the store-baked Portuguese tarts, so a box also was added.

It was a quick in-and-out of this store, as he desperately wanted to avoid the weekend crowds.

At the check-out lines, he scanned to see which was the shortest, but it was the cashier at the express line who saw him first, called out to him and beckoned him over. He had fewer than the nine-item limit, so he wasted no time in approaching her.

As she tallied his items, his had went instinctively to his left-arm sleeve. Out of habit, he slapped the small pocket before reaching for the zipper. He wasn't sure why he made this move but perhaps it was just to reassure himself that his wallet was secured in place.

This time, however, his fingers were not met with the resistance of cards in a tiny pouch.

A place for everything and everything in its place, he thought. He was also reminded of a saying that he had heard as a teen: "Put your keys in your right pocket and you'll never go wrong." His car keys always went in his right pocket. House keys in the left. Cell phone, left-breast pocket. His mask was on his face, so the right-breast pocket was empty.

He squeezed his key pockets and only felt metal. He felt the beast pockets, reached into the one with the phone. Nothing.

He almost never put his wallet in his pants pockets but stranger things had happened. All were empty.

"Oh no," he said to the cashier. "I've left my wallet at home." He then remembered that he had memorized his credit card number. In more than two years of working and staying at home, of ordering items online, he had memorized the 16-digit number, knew the expiry date and the security verification number. "Can you manually enter credit-card details?" He asked the cashier.

"I'm afraid I can't," came the disappointing answer.

A voice came to him from behind. "What's the matter?"

He turned to face a tall, smooth-headed man with a black face mask, similar to his own. A name tag hung from his shirt and gave only this man's first name: Chris.

"This is embarrassing," he said, "I seem to have left my wallet at home. I'll have to come back. I'm sorry."

Chris took a look at the checked items and didn't skip a beat. "It's okay," he said, "I've got this." To the cashier, he said, "I'll pay for this."

"No," the man said, "I can be back in 15 minutes."

"I insist," said Chris. "You don't want to have to drive back and forth and go through the line again. This is my treat."

The man had spent the pandemic avoiding close contact with the public. But he didn't hesitate to proffer his hand. Chris took it and their eyes met. "This is very kind of you. I can come back and pay you later."

"No, don't worry about it," said Chris. "Happy Easter."

"Happy Easter," he echoed back.

Chris swiped his employee card and then tapped his credit card. When the cashier handed Chris the receipt, he put it in the man's shopping bin. "You have a great day."

Perhaps it was karma.

Nearly eight years earlier, he had found himself in a line, on Christmas Eve, waiting for an elderly woman to pay for her gifts in a shop. That time, her credit cards were declined and the woman seemed confused and unable to decide her next steps.

When the cashier looked apologetically at the man for the holdup, he held up cash and, with some gestures and silent words, indicated that he would pay for the woman's items, for the cashier to let the elderly woman go.

The cost of her goods came to about $30. On this day, nearly eight years later, in his local and favourite grocery store, another Good Samaritan had paid $32 worth of groceries for him.

What goes around, comes around.

***

I wish to thank Chris, the manager of the Farm Boy in Barrhaven, Nepean, for the generosity and kindness that he showed to a total stranger.

***

Follow-up: I phoned Chris, this morning, to thank him again for his generosity and kindness, and once again offered to come in and repay him. "I wouldn't have cared if your groceries had cost $200," he said, "this is what we do at Farm Boy." He wouldn't hear of me repaying him.

He had also heard that our story was shared on social media and had gone viral. Thousands of likes and retweets on Twitter. People phoned the store on Saturday to tell him about the wonderful thing he had done for a total stranger.

Instead, I told him, I will be making a donation to our community food bank, in his name. I'll do that, this morning. He was happy with that compromise.

Adventures Along the Mattawa

I can't wait for the ice on the rivers and lakes to melt, for the temperatures to climb a little higher. I look at DW's and my kayaks, strapped to the wall in our garage, and I want to set them free.

In the meantime, I'm going through video footage from our 2021 kayaking adventures and I'm working on creating some YouTube videos. As I shared, last Friday, I've already created the thumbnails to use with the videos, even though the clips from some of those trips haven't been transferred from my Insta360 cameras.

I'm getting there.

I've managed to finish one of those videos and uploaded it to The Brown Knowser channel last week. My next trip to tackle is our adventure on Stratton Lake in Algonquin Park. I expect to have that video ready by early May.

If you're interested in seeing our Samuel de Champlain Provincial Park trip, here it is. The video is just over 16 minutes, so why not take a break from the workday?

If you like the video, please hit that Thumbs Up and subscribe to my channel.

Happy Wednesday!

Beer O'Clock: East Coast Pale Ale

I actually thought I had reviewed this ale before.

One of the disadvantages of reviewing local breweries is that I feel as though I've focused on just a handful of the many establishments in this fine city. And it's true, I have.

I plan to cast my hop-scented net a little further, in the future, to bring you more suds from the breweries that Ottawa has to offer. I also want to go further and explore more beer in Ontario, Quebec, and the rest of Canada.

Heck, I want to try all the beer!

Before the pandemic, I made a trip out to one of the breweries between Little Italy and Hintonburg (Hintaly?), to a brewery whose beer I like but don't seek out as often as I should. Or maybe I made the trip sometime during the pandemic for a curbside pickup.

My COVID-brain has lost all track of time and space.

Regardless of when I made the visit, I picked up, among their flagship cream ale and other goodies, a pale ale that seemed to be a limited release. Last week, when I learned that Vimy Brewing Company had once again released this ale, I thought, "Oh, I should get some more. I remember writing a review."

Only, I hadn't written a review. In fact, I've only reviewed this brewery once, and it was their aforementioned cream ale.

This pale ale was deserving of a closer look, so here we go.

East Coast Pale Ale (4.8% ABV, 38 IBUs)
Vimy Brewing Company
Ottawa, ON

Appearance: a dried-apricot gold with a foamy, white head that settles to a thin but dense cap and stays that way down the glass.

Nose: mild grapefruit and the faintest hint of dried, candied fruit.

Palate: soft plums and easy-to-take hops culminate in a mildly bitter finish.

Overall impression: this is a very easy-going ale that can be casually sipped with company. There is no harsh bitterness and because the finish is mild, it begs you to take another mouthful. The fruit gently reminds you that it's there but doesn't impose itself. It's a great, all-round ale.

Beer O'Clock rating: 🍺🍺

Because Vimy Brewing is in the process of moving, its taproom and shop are currently closed. This means that you won't be able to visit them until they settle into their new location, on Industrial Road (they're going to be neighbours to my good friends at Bicycle Craft Brewery!).

But you can order from Vimy and have your beer delivered. Orders of 24 cans or more get you free delivery in Ottawa or throughout Ontario for only $10. When I ordered my two-four before noon, it arrived later that afternoon.

I'm looking forward to checking out their new digs. I'll have to remember to do that.

Cheers!

Fog at Mud Lake

All Used Up

The view from our campground.

Many years ago, when my family and I were camping in a beautiful French town, along the winding Dordogne River and below an imposing Medieval castle, I told them in a calm, loving voice that I was done with camping.

"If you love me," I said, "you'll never ask me to camp with you again."

DW was disappointed but stayed quiet for several years. When she wanted to go camping, she took the kids and didn't involve me in the plans.

In 2020, when we bought our kayaks, DW and I planned several outings at various locations. "You know," she said to me as we explored the many waterways, "some of these places can't be done as a day trip. If you want to go there, we need to do an overnight stay."

I searched for nearby motels but found precious few.

Reluctantly, I agreed to return to camping. "But I don't want to camp more than three nights."

"Three nights per trip?" DW asked, excitedly. "That opens up all kinds of possibilities."

"Not per trip," I corrected her. "Three nights per year."

Feeling somewhat defeated, DW reluctantly agreed.

We did our first overnight kayak trip in late June, in Algonquin Provincial Park's Achray Campground. And while I didn't care for the camping aspect of the trip, I can't deny that I loved the kayaking adventures and acknowledge that we couldn't have done them without staying in the park for the night.

With the pandemic, two other planned trips were cancelled by the parks themselves. We did do a long day trip, back to Algonquin Park, where we paddled the Barron Canyon.

Barron Canyon.

Last year, DW made four reservations for campgrounds: again, because of the pandemic, one fell through. DW pushed her luck with the three that weren't cancelled. The first trip, in June, was a two-nighter at Samuel de Champlain Provincial Park; the second, back to Algonquin Park, was also a two-night stay; and, in August, we spent three nights at Killarney Provincial Park.

One of the islands in Georgian Bay, near Killarney Provincial Park.

Admittedly, because of the distance from home, it made sense to stay longer. We needed one day to get there, two full days in the park, and a day to get home.

But that was seven days of camping in one year. Had our first reservation not been cancelled, it would have been nine days. That's three years' worth of camping in one year.

Over the past couple of weeks, DW has been making plans for camping in 2022. "Count me out," I said, "you've used up all of my camping days. Maybe we'll go next year."

She's going without me.

Her first trip is at the end of May. She's managed to get our friends, Nina and Brian, to join her. And she's planning to ask our dear friend, Russ, an avid canoeist and camper, who knows Algonquin Park like the back of his hand, to join her on an expedition.

Bon voyage is what I say.

I'd like to paddle the Barron Canyon again, possibly in May or early June. Hopefully, the bugs won't be bad (we had almost none when we were there in October of 2020). But camping is out. I'd rather save my vacation days for the fall, when we plan to travel to Europe.

With four walls and a roof over our head each night.

Weirdo

I have a cat who likes to pee in my bathroom sink.

I mentioned that a few years ago, shortly after we adopted Camille, our grey tabby. She doesn't do it as often as she used to and only seems to do it when we're in the bathroom, possibly because she knows we'll turn on the tap after she's done to rinse out the sink.

Cece likes our bathroom sink, too. But not to use as a toilet.

Our black, ginger, and white cat is the most vocal cat we've ever had. She is constantly getting our attention with little mews, calling to us, chatting away as though we're in a conversation. Sometimes, she voices her distain, annoyed that we don't seem to understand what she's telling us.

But one thing she's clear about in communication is when she wants into the bedroom, when she wants us to follow her into our ensuite bathroom, where she'll lead us to the sink.

She wants a drink.

It doesn't matter that we keep a glass dish, filled with water several times a day. "No," she mews, "that's for the other cats. I like my water fresher than that." And with those meows, she'll step into the sink and stare at us.

She wants us to turn on the faucet. Just a small trickle.

She'll take a paw and bat at the falling water, as though she were testing that the water was at the right temperature. She'll then turn her head sideways, bite at the stream, and then start licking it.

We're to remain, to watch the spectacle, to turn off the water when she informs us, in cheery mews, that she's done.

Sometimes, Cece's brother, Finn, and Camille will join her on the counter, to watch her in awe. Camille has even tried to copy Cece, but when her face gets wet, she backs away as if to say, "No thanks, I'll just drink from the dish."

There was a time when I walked past the bathroom, moving from the bedroom to my at-home office, and heard Cece's call. At first, I didn't see her, but then I spied the tips of her ears protruding from the sink. And that's where I found her, curled up like she was in one of the cat beds.

A purry noise came from her and a paw batted at the end of the faucet.

"I can't turn it on until you get up," I told her, "you're going to get wet."

More mews, as if to say, "Don't question me, human. I want water and I want it now."

"Okay," I said, and slowly turned the tap. A tiny trickle of water fell, yet she didn't move out of its way. Instead, she moved her head under the stream, soaking her head. "That's enough of that," I said, turning off the tap. "You're going to get soaked and then you're going to track water all over the place."

Cece was not happy.

We find her often curled up in the sink, napping. It's as though she doesn't want to miss an opportunity for us to be in the bathroom, for when we could possibly turn the water on for her. To drink. To bathe.

Yup, she's a weirdo. But she's our weirdo.

Thumbnails

I'm still very new to YouTube, even though I started my Brown Knowser channel in December of 2019. I'm not much of a videographer, though I like to think that I am gradually improving.

The thing about my channel is that until recently, I hadn't really found my focus. My videos were all over the place: kinda like my blog post, but that's not why people tend to go to YouTube. People go to YouTube when they want to get information or be entertained.

I've learned that very few people were interested in watching my Beer O'Clock reviews on my YouTube channel. I have far more readers of my reviews on my blog than with my videos, and so last year I returned Beer O'Clock to its rightful place.

My kayaking videos tend to get more reviews, though I'm still growing that interest. And I've learned very recently that people love my vacation videos: in particular, the videos of the resorts.

To further my understanding of what makes for an interesting video, I've been watching YouTubers who teach exactly that: how to make videos that appeal to viewers. And in the handful of videos I've watched, these successful YouTubers say the same thing.

Make a thumbnail that will appeal to viewers who are scrolling through lists of similar videos. Make the thumbnail and create a title before you start editing your video.

I've heard that successful thumbnails are simple yet eye-catching. When I made my videos about our recent trip to Mexico, I knew that my snorkeling video would attract viewers if they knew there were sea turtles in the footage. So I made sure that the thumbnail showed a good image of one of the creatures.

My video of our resort at Akumal Bay has the beach, at sunset, with a silhouette of DW walking along it. To date, in the four weeks since I posted that video, I've had more than 2,500 views.

I'm currently working on videos for the kayaking adventures that we had last year. And the first thing I did, at the advice of these YouTubers, was to make the thumbnails. Here they are:

What do you think? Keep in mind that the title of the video will also appear below the thumbnail.

The first video is ready as of last night. The next one will launch in May.

If you have a chance, head over to my channel and poke around. Let me know which videos you like and which ones you're not crazy about. And if you like my channel, please subscribe.

Happy Friday!

First Ride

I'm always anxious over my first road-bike ride.

I don't know if it's because I'm worried that something might have happened to my bike while it hung, upside-down, from the ceiling in our garage. I'm worried that the tires or tubes cracked, that the brakes are faulty, or that something's come loose.

Of course, the bike is fine. Before I hang it up for the winter, I always give it a good cleaning. Sometimes, I even take it to the shop for a professional tune-up (they tend to be less busy at the end of the season than in the spring).

I worry that I'm not up to riding any great distance. My belly has come back (I'm eating way to much sugar and junk food these days) and maybe I'll run out of steam halfway into my ride.

My biggest concern for this first ride was how my body would cope as I recover from COVID. But I've done a couple of spin rides, in my bedroom, since the illness knocked me out, and I was fine.

I also worried about the road conditions. Would there be a lot of debris on the shoulders? Would my tires find a piece of glass or metal?

I worry about my first ride until I actually do it, which is what I did after work, yesterday. April 6 is the earliest I've ever been out on my road bike. It's been just under five months since I last got on my bike.

I chose the route that I did the most often, last year. It's a 40-kilometre circuit that takes me down to Kars and back, passing through Manotick on the return leg. Typically, there are parts of this ride where there is little traffic and the road conditions are good, if not ideal.

It was good to see that the roads hadn't taken a beating from the winter and I remembered and anticipated parts where the shoulder was a bit rough. And while there was a lot of dirt and stones on the sides of the road, I encountered no broken glass or other hazardous debris.

Even the drivers gave me a wide berth when they passed me. Perhaps it was because I had one of my 360-degree cameras mounted to my handle bars and it extended to my left-hand side, making it visible to oncoming vehicles.

No one wants to misbehave when they think they're being recorded. (I only turned it on when I was negotiating busy spots along my route.)

The only problem that I had with yesterday's ride, besides some nasty wind gusts that came from the east, was with my Garmin watch. The GPS screwed up and gave an incorrect account of my route. It had me starting somewhere in Goulbourn and ending somewhere in the empty fields behind the movie theatre at Barrhaven's RioCan mall.

No, I did not ride my bike on the Rideau River, no matter what the map shows.

It also recorded 43.16 kms and this route is usually just over 40 kms (under 41).

Shortly after my ride, I started coughing, which I haven't done since the weekend. I was a bit tired but no more than I usually feel after a long ride.

I slept like a baby.

So I would say that my first road-bike ride of 2022 was a success. I was dressed appropriately and was comfortable. I had a slow pace but I was steady. I need to get more rides like this in, soon, because I'm participating in the CN Cycle for CHEO on May 1, which is a 70-km ride.

I'm up for it.

And I'm no longer anxious about getting on my bike.

Birds at Mud Lake

Poser

He only made the move when I held my camera to my face.

The mallard, casually strolling the path at Mud Lake, tended to pay no attention to DW and me. Even when I crouched low and bade him and his female companion a good morning. But when I brought my camera up to my face and peered through the viewfinder, he would cock his head to one side and stare at me.

I'd put the camera down and his head would turn away.

Once again, I raised my camera and composed a shot, and that duck head would turn, almost in a pose, and Mr. Mallard would stare right at me.

Clearly, he's worked with photographers before.

He didn't ask for a model release.

Happy Tuesday!

Still Breathing

Image: Google

For a while, I was actually concerned.

On Thursday morning, I had to cancel all of my morning meetings. I was coughing so much and so hard that I was certain that I was shredding my lungs, which were burning and causing me to breathe hard, which only aggravated my coughing.

COVID sucks.

By noon, that day, I was so tired from coughing and my head was throbbing that I had to lie down. I managed to fall asleep and got almost two hours of rest before I had to get back to work.

I have deadlines.

The coughing subsided through the day but would hurt every time one crept up. For the next couple of days, any time I had a passing cough, I could taste blood at the back of my mouth, could smell it in my nostrils.

I have no idea what damage was actually caused by my bout with this virus but it wasn't mild. And thankfully, being triple-vaxxed, it didn't get worse. (I hate to imagine how bad it could have been had I not been inoculated.)

It's no secret that we're experiencing the next wave of this pandemic, with our provincial government doing absolutely nothing to keep us safe. But we can take things into our own hands, like wearing a mask, avoiding close, indoor contact with others. If you haven't had your third shot (or any shots), take the jab.

Keep yourself and those around you safe.

I'm better now. I'm not at 100 percent—I'm still finding myself out of breath from time to time—but the virus is behind me. For now.

I'm still breathing and I hope my lungs heal soon. And I wouldn't wish this on anyone.

Stay safe.

Accidents Happen

As with photography, sometimes you have accidents with video equipment. Just as you can sometimes unintentionally press the shutter release on a camera, you can do the same with a video recorder.

I vaguely remember the incident. It happened as DW and I were hiking in Killarney Provincial Park, last summer. After spending all morning and early afternoon paddling around Georgian Bay (not the whole bay... that would take weeks!), we returned to our camp site, looking for something to do for the afternoon.

We had heard that there was a three-kilometre loop trail a short distance from our site and decided to hike it. I grabbed my camera bag and we headed out.

While we strolled the trail, which turned out to be much more challenging than we had anticipated and seemed longer, I carried one of my 360-degree video cameras, occasionally recording parts of the trail. For much of the walk, that camera was in standby mode, which meant I could simply press the Record button, rather than pressing and holding it to go from an off-state to turning it on and recording (difference of a couple of seconds to start recording).

At one point of the hike, I thought I'd save some of the battery and turn the camera off. But because I had been so used to pressing the big button, I hit it again, rather than pressing and holding the Power button.

I heard the familiar beep to notify me that the camera was recording and I immediately hit Stop, and powered down the camera.

This week, as I was going through unprocessed video, looking to make my next adventure video for my YouTube channel, I came across the two-second clip. Not wanting to waste it, I turned it into a still photo.

When accidents happen, it's fun to turn them into opportunities.

Happy Friday!