Easter Surprise

Much like my Christmas-themed blog posts, this post, which was first drafted in 2022, is now a holiday favourite. If you've read it before, I hope you enjoy it again. If this is the first time you're reading it, I hope it won't be your last.

Perhaps it was karma.

There's the adage "karma's a bitch" but sometimes it can be a gift. If what happened on that Easter weekend 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.

Photo: Wordpress Openverse

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 hand 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, where he faithfully kept it, was now empty.

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

He almost never put his wallet in his pants pockets but stranger things have happened. Yet, 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 from 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 man's 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.

Happy Easter!

Beer O'Clock: Windmill Brewery

In November of 1838, approximately 250 men from an American para-military group tried to cross the St. Lawrence River and seize the small town of Prescott, in an attempt to gain a foothold on what would bring further incursion into Canada.

The mission largely failed, due to the British forces being tipped off and were prepared (along with the townsfolk and some American authorities), but some of the invaders landed downstream, at Windmill Point, just east of Prescott. These forces managed to hold the hamlet of Newport and its tall, stone windmill, which they used as a lookout of advancing British troops.

The para-military group managed to hang on to the windmill and hamlet for four days before surrendering to the outnumbering British forces.

The hamlet is only a memory, today, but the windmill still stands. Sort of. It was converted into a lighthouse in 1873 and was declared a national historic site in 1920.

I discovered this landmark when I was scouting out a good spot to set up my camera gear to photograph the upcoming solar eclipse. One of my cameras will take a wide-angle shot, in which I will create a composite of the phases of the eclipse, and I wanted an interesting landmark in the foreground.

I think this spot will work nicely.

Last weekend, as DW and I made our way to the windmill/lighthouse, we passed a brewery near the turnoff. It was aptly named Windmill Brewery. It's just off Highway 2, between Prescott and Johnstown, in a spot called Wexford (if you blink, you'll miss it).

"Well, I know where we can go after the eclipse," I said to DW.

Sadly, the brewery is only open on weekends. The total solar eclipse is on a Monday. But that didn't stop DW and me from paying the brewery a visit after we scoped out a few spots in the area, including in the town of Prescott, itself.

Windmill Brewery shares its space with a distillery, King's Lock, plus the Newport BBQ & Bakery. We arrived shortly before they closed but early enough to enjoy a few samples. I tried a couple of their samples (the gentleman behind the counter actually cracked open fresh cans to let me try) and not only did I walk out with a couple of cans of the two beers that I tried, I also grabbed a couple of cans of a third, untried brew to surprise myself back home.

The guy also directed us to the distillery, after we were done, and we walked away with four bottles of lovely vodka, rye whiskey, and more (curses, that brewery guy!).

Let's focus on the beer today.

I was tempted to try the unknown beer as soon as I got home. Looking at the label, which features the inner confines of Fort Wellington, I asked our friend at the brewery if it was a stout or porter, and he said no, that it was a black lager.

Barracks Black Lager (4.5% ABV)

Appearance: pours a coppery black, almost like root beer, with a foamy beige head that starts thick (a centimetre or two) but settles quickly to a fine lace before clearing to a thin ring around the side of the glass. Large, effervescent bubbles settled to fine pearls, and eventually went all but flat (disclaimer: I drank this lager over more than an hour but still felt it should have some fizz left). Don't dally with your pint.

Nose: chocolate and figs.

Palate: light-bodied, with hints of prunes, a touch of coffee, and dark chocolate that hits the back of the tongue in the finish. At times, I thought I tasted black licorice but if I did, it was fleeting. Even though I let my glass go flat, the flavours held firm.

Overall impression: this is a very nice, easy-drinking schwarzbier. Light-bodied but flavourful, with nothing overpowering. I wish I had picked up more than two cans: its incredibly sessionable.

Beer O'Clock rating: 🍺🍺🍺

The next beer that I want to share with you is the first ale that I was offered. Admittedly, the guy in the shop said that he didn't know a lot about IPAs when I asked him if Windmill made a traditional, British-styled IPA, as opposed to the modern, hazy, tropical-fruity brews that are so popular these days.

As he cracked open the can, he told me that their ale poured clear. He almost seemed apologetic but I was quite enthusiastic. "That sounds traditional to me," I said.

I'll blend some of my first impressions, in the taproom, with a closer analysis at home in my review.

Four Chord IPA (4.5% ABV)

Appearance: a slightly unfiltered, straw gold with a foamy white head that creates a firm, dense cap. I know the guy in the shop said this IPA pours clear, and in the couple of ounces that he placed in my sample glass, it seemed that way, too. But when you pour the whole contents into a pint glass, there's a bit less clarity. It's a bit paler than a traditional IPA but only slightly, and takes the palest part of the pale spectrum.

Nose: it's a bit closed in the pint glass but I got traces of lemongrass in the small sample glass. There's a balance of malt and hops with a hint of grapefruit.

Palate: the hops come forward in the mouth but do not overpower. It's a full body with a bit of pine resin in the lengthy finish. At 4.5% ABV, this ale is a bit lighter in alcohol than an English IPA (which is usually 5 to 7.5 percent) but this tastes very much like a classic IPA. I had my doubts in the tasting room, with such a small sample, but the full pint has me more convinced.

Overall impression: this is quite a good, traditional IPA. It's hoppy and full bodied, without the haze and tropical fruit of what passes as a NEIPA or other so-called IPAs that make me cringe, even though I love their flavours. I was prepared to give this brew a rating of 2, when I was in the Windmill tap room, but I've since revived my score.

Beer O'Clock rating: 🍺🍺🍺

The third brew was enjoyable from a small sample glass: how does it stack up in a pint glass?

Festbier (6.5% ABV)

Appearance: pours a copper-amber with a fizzy-white heat that settles right down to nothing. There are miniature pearls that rise to the surface and spread out to the edges of the glass.

Nose: spices that remind me of pumpkin pie and a bit of malt. There's also a bit of nuttiness to it.

Palate: I'm not 100-percent sure of the style of beer but I'm leaning toward a Märzen (in fairness, the name sort of implies the style). It certainly has that Oktoberfest flavour to it. In addition to the spice (clove?), I get a bit of toasted caramel and more breaded malt. A little headier than a traditional Märzen, I get the alcohol but it doesn't detract from the overall taste.

Overall impression: I can see myself drinking this brew in the fall, when the leaves change colour and the air gets cooler (again, the label helps put these thoughts in my head). There's a good body to this beer and the flavours are warm and inviting. The brewers at Windmill have produced a good German-styled lager (yes, I've now finally read the label) of which they should be proud.

Beer O'Clock rating: 🍺🍺

Being a small brewery, they don't offer delivery service but they're a short detour from Highway 401, just west of the 416 interchange. They're definitely worth a stop (though, they're currently only open on weekends). Plus, you can also check out the Battle of the Windmill National Historic Site.

I'm sad that the brewery won't be open on April 8 but now that I've been here, it won't be my last visit.

Cheers!

Shooting a Model Through a Plastic Sheet

All I Need Is The Air That I Breathe

So this is the situation:

Photo credit: Hey Paul Studios

In preparation for my upcoming visit to a lung specialist, my doctor's office requested that I get a chest x-ray. I could go anywhere but we both agreed that the imaging centre on Merivale Road was my best option.

I'm having trouble accessing my doctor's office online portal, where I can book appointments, communicate with my doctor, and receive prescriptions and requisitions. Instead, I had to go to my doctor's office to pick up the x-ray requisition, but that was no problem: the office is only about five minutes away from my house.

On Saturday, I went to the Merivale Medical Imaging centre and was seen within an hour of arriving. I was able to check in and leave my cell number, and they texted me when they were ready for me. I was able to grab some breakfast while I waited.

Every time that the radiologist told me to take a deep breath and hold it, I'd end up coughing and would have to take a second breath. "I can see why you're here," he said, trying to be sympathetic to my plight.

When we were done, he wished me well and said that my doctor should have the results by Monday.

Yesterday, my doctor called me with the results. "I'm concerned," she said. She told me that there was an opacity to the lower part of both lungs but it was particularly bad in my left lung. There were also opaque streaks that led upward from the dark areas. She didn't know what was causing them but assured me that the specialist will know.

And so, I wait for the next available appointment, which I hope is soon. I've also made a follow-up appointment with my doctor, who may or may not renew the prescription for my inhalers.

I'm not worried. Not yet. When the circumstances are beyond my control and I don't have definitive information, I tell myself that worrying is a wasteful emotion. I'll stay positive until I know more.

And then, maybe some panic will set in. Wish me luck.

Practice and Luck

Who would have thought that it would be so tricky?

I mean, I've taken photos of the sun before—but then, I really haven't. I mean, the sun has appeared in many of my photos throughout the decades, from sunrise to sunset, and there has never been any real risk.

I've taken pictures of subjects where the sun has appeared in the background: a small, bright dot in the sky like a drop of paint that's hit the floor of a room I'm painting. There's no definition, no detail.

This one has two suns!

For sunrise and sunset shots, the sun is pretty much the star attraction (no pun intended) but because it's low in the sky, somewhat more diffused by our atmosphere, there hasn't seemed to be the danger to either my eye, looking through the viewfinder, nor to the camera's sensor.

Zooming up on the sun, high in the sky, though, is a whole other matter.

In anticipation of the upcoming total solar eclipse, on April 8, I want to make sure that my equipment and my eyes are protected, so I've purchased a couple of ND 100000 solar filters. I need one for each of the lenses I plan to use on the big day.

Through these filters, the sun is the only thing you can see. Everything else is in total darkness.

I intend to use two cameras to capture this rare phenomenon: my Nikon D750 will have my 24–70mm lens, set to wide; my Nikon D7200 will house my 70–300mm lens, which will be zoomed out all the way. Because the D7200 has a cropped sensor, the effective focal length is 450mm.

Not powerful enough to fill the frame but allows for cropping. I've considered investing in a teleconverter, perhaps a 1.4x magnification, but I'm sitting on the fence, not sure I want to invest in something I may not use often afterwards.

And time's running out. The longer I hesitate, the less likely I'll be able to get my hands on one before April 8.

I'm also looking for a place to capture the total eclipse. Ottawa is not in the zone of totality, so I've determined that I have to drive south, toward the St. Lawrence Seaway. This weekend, DW and I drove to Spencerville and Prescott, and I'm leaning toward the latter.

For my wide-angle shot, I want something picturesque in the foreground, and I intend to make a composite shot with a trail of the sun through its various phases of the eclipse. I think I've found my spot.

For now, I'm keeping it to myself.

I've never taken these kinds of pictures before so I'm reading up on photographing the eclipse, watching videos that provide helpful tips. I've learned that except for the totality phase, the solar filter stays on the lens and the exposure settings more or less remain the same. Only during the total blackout of the sun can I remove the filter.

In Spencerville and Prescott, that totality is less than two minutes. I have less than two minutes to get the exposure right on two cameras.

No pressure.

In the final weeks leading up to the big day, I'm practicing photographing the sun. We haven't had many days of clears skies, so far, and I haven't always been available to snap several shots when the sky has been clear, so the pressure is on to make sure I know the best exposure settings.

I've read somewhere (but of course, can't find the source now that I want to confirm it) that the next total solar eclipse won't happen in this part of the world for 20 years. I doubt I'll be around to see it and I have no idea what kind of technology will be available to get the best shot. But I'm fairly confident that this will be my only chance to get it right.

And so, I practice.

I see sunspots. I added colour to the sun in post processing.

Of course, if the weather doesn't cooperate and we can't see the sun, it's all for naught.

Fingers crossed.

Patterns

There are some photos that I shot while DW and I were in Costa Rica that I just don't know what to do with.

They are images of things that just caught my eye and I captured the moment. They are random shots that don't necessarily fit in with the thousands of other photos that I took over our two-week stay.

I like them for what they are. Some, I suppose, can tell a story; others, not so much.

But there's a shot that I see, in the many that are in my Google photo album, that makes me stop and gaze upon it. I haven't edited the shot and I don't think that I need to.

When we were on the sandbar that extends from Playa Uvita and splits into two opposite directions, out into the Pacific, making this unique land mass look like a whale's tail, I took lots of reflection shots as the ocean washed up on the sand, creating a mirrored effect. But at one point, I looked closely at the sand and I saw something entirely different.

I saw a pattern, created by the approaching and then receding water. In it, the sand looked like scales, or feathers.

I took only one photo. One was all I needed.

As I said, I've looked at this photo a few times, in my Google album, but I've never known what to do with it. Maybe, I'll slip it in to a future video of this region. But for now, so that it won't be forgotten, I'll let it live here.

Happy Friday!

Beer O'Clock: Breakfast Stout

My heart wept.

I haven't been drinking very much beer, lately, and what I have consumed has been mostly non-alcoholic. I don't know why that is.

I mean, yeah, I haven't made many visits to our friendly neighbourhood LCBO since before our vacation (actually, I've only made one trip, when I picked up only two cans) and I haven't stopped by the beer section in our grocery store, except for that one time when I saw some non-alcoholic beer on a shelf and picked up two cans.

Until this week, I hadn't even placed any online beer orders. As I said, I don't know why that is.

Even on St. Patrick's Day, when DW, my parents, and I headed to an Irish pub in the ByWard Market (when did we start capitalizing the W?), I limited myself to one Guinness while we listened to live music. I was considering having an Irish whiskey but in the end, decided to call it quits after the one pint.

Drinking stout on St. Paddy's Day is something that I rarely pass up. Drinking a stout whenever one is available is something I'm hard-pressed to say no to. So when I saw that one of my favourite Ottawa breweries had released a new stout, I had to get my hands on some.

This is getting to where my heart wept.

On the day that my beer arrived on my doorstep, I was excited. I had ordered six cans of this limited-release stout, six cans of another new release (which I may review next week), and six cans of their NEIPA, which is one of my favourite of their standard brews.

I carried the box to our basement, where I keep a small beer fridge. Before this order, there were only three cans of beer taking up scant space. The 18 new cans weren't going to fill the fridge but they would come close.

As I took the cans from the delivery box to the fridge, I accidentally knocked the box from a table that's next to the fridge onto the concrete basement floor. Four cans landed on the ground.

There was no sound of gas or liquid exiting a can, no spray or puddle. All four cans seemed intact, though badly dented, and I thanked my lucky stars as I picked them off the floor and put them in place in the refrigerator.

That evening, I decided that I would have one of the cans of beer and returned to the basement to grab a can. When I opened the fridge, I immediately saw a small puddle of brown liquid beneath two cans of stout. These cans were on a shelf immediately under the cans that did not fall from the table.

Yes, this was when my heart wept.

I picked up the two dented cans of stout, wiped up the mess, and then put one of them back, another on a tray on the door of the fridge. I grabbed a different beer (one that I'd had in the fridge for a couple of months), and decided to have that one instead.

Later, I returned to the beer fridge to see which of the two cans was leaking—I was really hoping that it wasn't both. It was the can that I returned to the lower shelf, so I brought it upstairs, saddened at the loss.

I cracked the can open and took a sip. There was no pssst from the can as I popped it open. I took a sip.

It was tasty, with flavours of coffee and a bit of spice, and slightly sweet, but flat. I took a couple more sips before dumping the contents. What a waste.

Yesterday, I opened one of the first cans that I had transferred to the fridge, one that hadn't been dropped. And that's the one I'm reviewing (finally, we get to the review!).

Breakfast Stout (4.5% ABV; 18 IBUs)
Broadhead Brewing Company
Orleans (Ottawa), ON

Appearance: this can also didn't make much noise as I opened it. The stout pours a deep brown with a thin, fizzy taupe head that disappears into a fine lace and then vanishes altogether, with some bubbles that gather at the top like a cola.

Nose: there's an abundance of coffee and minute traces of chocolate, but there's a sweetness that reminds me of buckwheat honey.

Palate: hmm... this stout almost tastes flat. There's very little effervescence in the mouth. If the previous night's can hadn't leaked, I might have thought that this was the can that had been damaged. I checked the label to see if I was supposed to have shaken the can before opening it, but that wasn't the case.

I've had old bottles of Imperial stout, where the fizz had long left the liquid, and that didn't detract from the enjoyment of that vintage brew. So while the lack of bubbles caught me off-guard, it was no slight against this stout.

Back to flavour: the coffee is lighter on the palate than on the nostrils, so this is definitely not a beer that is specifically a coffee stout. It's a breakfast stout, which means there's more to it than java. There's a slight spiciness to it, which I later learned is cinnamon. There's also some maple syrup in the mix, though I don't specifically detect it in my mouth. I got more sweetness from the aromas, rather than the bouquet. But there is definitely a faint sweetness in the finish.

This is a light to medium-bodied stout that has good flavour with a watery, clean finish.

Overall impression: Broadhead makes some damned-impressive stouts and this is a good addition, but I have to say that it's not among the top of their lineup. Yes, I'll drink it again and enjoy my remaining cans (with fingers crossed for the other dented can that didn't leak). But I prefer their oatmeal stout and absolutely adore their coffee-chocolate-vanilla porter.

Maybe this stout is truly meant to be consumed with a hearty breakfast of bacon and eggs, with pancakes, where the brew is meant to complement the meal but not be the star attraction? Perhaps I'll try that on the weekend and let you know.

Beer O'Clock rating: 🍺🍺

In the meantime, you can find this stout at the brewery or you can order it, online, for free delivery in Ottawa or for a nominal charge throughout the rest of Ontario. As it's a limited release, you'll want to get it soon.

Just handle it with care when you're putting it in your fridge.

Cheers!

Two Waterfalls on the Last Day of Winter

No More Binging

Perhaps it's best that I don't have anything to watch.

Lately, I find myself sitting in front of the TV too much. Some days, I finish work and turn on a series that I'm streaming and watch a bunch of episodes for hours. I'd only take a break to make dinner, clean up after dinner (I'd eat while watching the news), and writing a blog post before calling it a day.

The rest of the time, I'd be in my favourite chair, with my legs up and one of the cats stretched out on them. It would be a lazy evening.

Mind you, I don't do this every day. I tend to become a couch potato on evenings when DW heads to the gym or for pickleball for a few hours.

You'd think she would motivate me to be more active.

I was hooked on the FX series The Americans and watched all six seasons in a couple of months. Following that series, I started watching and got hooked on the Apple TV+ series For All Mankind. So far, only four seasons have aired, with the fifth season apparently not coming until next year.

I blew through those episodes in a matter of weeks.

Recently, I watched Masters of the Air, also on Apple TV+. It was okay but I managed to watch all nine shows in three sittings.

It was at this point that I thought enough was enough. I'm neglecting work on my videos, I'm writing blog posts within hours of posting them (in the past, I'd often write posts a few days to a few weeks in advance) and often struggle at finding a subject.

Originally, I was going to make this post about what should be the next binge-worthy TV series to watch, but as I sat at the keyboard, I thought no, I need a break from TV. I need to turn my attention to other things, like keeping our house in order and getting back to other things I enjoy.

Like getting out of the house to take some photos, which I haven't really done since DW and I returned from vacation (sure, there was the time that I took some self portraits, but I didn't leave the house).

I can still watch TV while I work out on my spin bike. What else is there to do? I'll also likely watch the news during dinner, but as soon as the news is over and the kitchen is cleaned, I'm going to be more productive.

Unless I really have nothing better to do, there will be no more binging.

Wish me luck.

Costa Rica Highlights

It seems like ages since I posted a YouTube video.

Last year, I promised myself that I'd create at least one video each month, and on the average, I did that. But there were times when a month would go by and I'd have nothing new on my channel.

This year, I hadn't put out a single video in the first two-and-a-half months. That, however, changed this weekend.

When I returned from Costa Rica, I had shot more than 1,000 photos and had hundreds of video clips. Most of the video was captured on my smartphone but I also had a couple of my Insta360 video cameras, which I used on a three-metre selfie stick, or mounted on our rental vehicle with a strong magnet, or strapped to my chest.

It took time to extract all of the footage, edit the ones from the 360-degree camera, and organize them. On Saturday, I told myself that I'd start work on creating a video, with my goal of having the video uploaded to YouTube by the end of the month.

I finished and uploaded the video that day.

Usually, it would take me a couple of weeks to prepare a video, using my Windows laptop and my old software, Pinnacle. But this time, I was using our MacBook Pro with Final Cut Pro. The workflow was very easy and very fast.

I wanted to start out with a short video that offered only brief highlights of our Costa Rican trip. I made a similar video for when we went to Portugal, in 2022. The hope was to get people to subscribe to my channel so that when I had a new video, they'd be notified.

I'm hoping that happens with my latest video. Have a look.

If you haven't yet subscribed to my YouTube channel, please consider doing so. The more people who subscribe, the more motivated I am to make more videos.

Happy Monday!

Take My Breath Away

The other week, I mentioned how I've never fully recovered from the last time I caught COVID, how I've had a cough since October, 2022, and that I've felt as though my lung capacity has been diminished. And I also said that in the weeks following my return from vacation, my coughing has worsened and my lungs feel as though they're taking a beating.

Last week, I was starting to become concerned after I started tasting blood every time I coughed. My lungs were burning, and I actually left karaoke night early. On Monday, I made an appointment to see someone at my doctor's clinic and got an appointment for Tuesday.

I love my doctor's clinic because if my doctor is unable to see me quickly, there are other doctors and nurse practitioners who can see me in what is considered "urgent care." Having trouble with your lungs falls in that category.

The doctor who saw me remembered me right away. I had seen her shortly after returning from Costa Rica because I had injured my hip, and she had prescribed physiotherapy.

It wasn't hard for her to quickly determine that there was something wrong. I couldn't complete my explanation of how I felt without coughing profusely behind my mask. She took my temperature and listened to my lungs. Breathing in and out, I hacked several times.

She acknowledged that my lungs don't sound good. There was no gurgling, no liquid in my lungs, which was a relief. But there was some wheezing and of course, the rough coughing.

She immediately told me that she'd like me to see a respiratory specialist and made a note in my records. I just have to wait for a call to get an appointment.

In the meantime, she prescribed two inhalers: a steroid, which I take once per day; the other, salbutamol sulfate, which helps open my lungs and is only used when my cough turns to a fit, up to four times a day.

I'm familiar with these orange and blue puffers. Kid 1 suffers from asthma and keeps a blue puffer on her at all times. She uses the orange puffer only when her breathing gets bad, which thankfully is rare.

I've been using these inhalers for a few days now, and so far I haven't really noticed a difference. I don't know how long it takes to see any improvement but I'll continue to administer the steroid every morning, and I'll use the blue puffer when I have to.

And hopefully, I'll get an appointment with the specialist soon. I'm hoping that COVID hasn't done permanent damage to my lungs and that I didn't wait too long to report my condition to the doctor.

Stay tuned.

Four Years On

It was supposed to be my new commuter car, replacing my Ford Focus. It's now our main vehicle.

At the start of 2020, I had finally had it with my sporty, white hatchback. It was no longer fun to drive. In fact, for most of the seven-plus years that I had my 2012 Focus, it was more frustrating than fun.

The transmission was faulty and no matter how many times I took it in for service, it couldn't be fixed. The fob for the push-button start failed a couple of times—one time, taking six weeks in the shop to sort out. When the touch screen on the centre console went dim, effectively killing the radio/sound system and any voice commands, I reached my limit and it was the end of the road for that car.

It was and will be the only Ford I will ever own.

I was reluctant when we went to the Kia dealership. When DW and I lived in South Korea, Kia did not have a good reputation. They were basic automobiles, and the fit and finish on them were pretty horrible. I had driven a couple of them over the two years that we lived in that East-Asian country, and they were gutless, sloppy-handling pieces of junk.

Since our time in Korea, Kia had been acquired by Hyundai and I heard some good reviews of them. Also, Hyundai had really cleaned up their act and were putting out some great vehicles.

It looked like they were sharing their technology and craftsmanship with their sister company.

When I test drove the Niro, I was impressed with how well it ran, how solid it felt. The steering was tight and the suspension firm. Being a hybrid car, the acceleration was impressive, especially with four people in it (the salesperson, DW, a friend, and me).

There was good cargo space and the back seats provided excellent head space and leg room. And there were more gadgets than I had in any other vehicle that I've owned.

There was no "we'll think about it" when we finished the test drive, though DW and I did feel a bit of pressure from the salesperson. "We have a hard time keeping these vehicles in stock and this is our last one... I don't know when we'll get more in... the 2019s are almost sold out and if you wait, you'll pay more for the 2020 model."

We took delivery of our Niro two weeks later, on February 28. We could have had it sooner but winter storms through the week made us hold off for better weather. And even though it snowed on that Friday, it wasn't as bad as it had been previously.

Though, five minutes after driving off the dealership lot, I put the antilock brakes to the test.

I only drove my "commuter car" to the office six times after taking possession of it. It was impossible to tell how much I was saving on gas because after March 10, 2020, I was no longer commuting to work: the pandemic turned me into the work-from-home person that I continue to be to this day.

I do remember that it took more than a month before I needed to put gas in the tank.

With both DW and me working from home, we both choose the Niro as our primary vehicle. We only drive our Honda CR-V when we need more cargo space. And now that Kid 1 is living at home again, she drives the CR-V so much now that I practically think of it as her vehicle.

We may end up just giving it to her.

Four years on, we're loving our Niro. It still drives as well as it did on the day that we dumped off my Focus and drove home in our new wheels. We love how easily we can throw our kayaks onto the roof and head out for a paddle. We love how it cruises on our trips to Toronto and elsewhere.

December, 2023.

This week, I took it in for its first manufacturer's recall: a simple fix of replacing a potentially faulty fuse that could lead to a battery fire. In the 10 years that we owned our Honda Odyssey, we had three recalls, had to replace the alternator, and the automatic sliding doors stopped working.

And in seven years with the Ford Focus, I had countless service appointments and failures. One small fuse replacement in four years is pretty impressive.

Let's see how it does over the next four years. Will it outlive the Focus? Stay tuned.

Four Years In

Four years ago, today, I left the office after lunch to go home. I had a head cold coming on and I didn't want to spread my germs around, so I decided that I'd work from home for the rest of the day.

Because I usually worked from home on Wednesdays, nothing changed for me the next day. I was still battling that head cold but I was able to get my day's work in.

But the next day, on Thursday, my cold finally got the better of me and I took the day to rest and take care of myself. I had a one-on-one meeting with my director, which was a video call, but I turned off my camera because I looked like crap and was constantly blowing my nose.

Later that day, everyone in the company was notified to not return to the office, that the COVID-19 was forcing everything to shut down. And I never really returned to the office at full capacity again.

In four years, I've never spent more than a couple of hours in the office. I've gone in to replace my laptop or have a computer issue resolved. I've gone in to meet with developers, who have shown me processes that involve physical devices, that can't be shared on a screen. And I met, once, some developers who were reviewing my work, just because I wanted to show them that I wasn't just some disembodied voice that they hear over a conference call (I never turn on my camera during meetings).

I have no personal belongings in the office. If I were to leave my company today, I'd only have to return my laptop.

At home, I've moved my office four times. When I used to work from home on Wednesdays, before the pandemic, I'd simply plug my work computer into the area where I keep my home computer, using my own external monitor, keyboard, and mouse. But when I had to work from home because I wasn't allowed at the office, I set up shop in our basement, at a small desk next to the furnace. It was noisy and it was dark, but I had privacy and I was content.

DW called me "mole man."

But as the realization came in that working from home was going to be a permanent arrangement (apart from occasional visits to the office, I have no real need to be there), DW and I decided to transform Kid 1's old room into an office space for the both of us. Our kid had moved to the GTA for school and DW was tired of working at our dining-room table.

The room was bright and spacious, after we renovated it, and DW and I had matching desks that faced one another. With our big monitors, we couldn't really see one another, and the noise of tapping keyboards didn't distract us.

Our meetings, however, did.

DW gets quite loud when she talks to coworkers through her headset. She laughs, makes small talk, and is vocally engaged in her meetings, and that's great for her, but for me it was hard to focus. And when we had meetings at the same time, it was chaos.

When Kid 2 moved to Toronto, for university, I moved my desk into her room. Being north-facing, her small room was dark but that didn't bother me. I'm mole-man, after all, and I don't mind the dark.

Apart from replacing her desk with my own, which can rise and lower, getting me out of my chair, I left the rest of her room untouched. She needed a place to stay when she made trips home, just as we had a bed in Kid 1's room for when she was at home.

And Kid 1 came home a couple of years later, to stay.

DW had to move out of that room, and set up a space in a corner of our living room at the front of the house. We set her up with a privacy screen but she was in a space where there was no escape from anybody going up and down our stairs or coming and going from the house. And if someone was cooking in the kitchen or watching TV in the family room, there was no sound barrier.

It was only slightly better than when she was working at our dining-room table, only the privacy screen allowed her some visual blocking.

Last summer, we developed an issue where our WiFi started losing its ability to send a strong signal to where I was working, and I'd often find myself getting kicked out of meetings. But when this issue arose, DW was between jobs, so I simply moved my computer down to where she had been working and the issue was resolved.

We also changed Internet providers, which solved the problem of connectivity issues upstairs.

By the time DW had found a new job, I was firmly entrenched in her old space. I didn't mind being in a smaller space, where I could look out the front window and see who was at the door (especially when I was expecting a beer delivery). DW took my old desk in Kid 2's old room, which is a good thing because she's still loud during meetings and can close a door.

Four years after I came home from work because I was under the weather, I can't imagine going back to the office. Sure, there are no watercooler chats but I do chat online with coworkers. At home, the coffee's better, my lunches are better, and I don't have to deal with the daily commute. I get my projects finished just as easily at home than when I was in the office, and usually faster, as there are fewer interruptions.

I'm hoping to work this way for four more years and then retire. That's the plan. All I know is that my days of working in an office are already over.

Four years in, I'm never going back.

Fun With AI

It's a new habit that serves a few functions, mostly, for fun.

A couple of years ago, just before my birthday, I decided to start taking some decent self portraits. About five years ago, I actually hired a photographer to take headshots of me and when I received them, I told myself that I could probably do as good a job.

Not to besmirch that photographer but the photos were fairly simple and there didn't seem to be much post-processing in the final results. I like to remove blemishes from portraits or any other mark that detracts from the subject, and this photographer liked to show me as natural as possible.

But to take photos of myself also called on using some equipment that I didn't have at the time, and over the years I've slowly been building up my photography gear so that I can take better portraits: better lighting, a backdrop, and remote triggers.

Two years ago, I shot myself with a pleasing background: a painted Korean screen that hangs on our living-room wall. Last year, I removed a large picture from one of our plain walls and used a softbox on a stand plus a second speedlight for better light and no shadows on that plain wall.

This year, I felt I had the equipment I needed. I now have a collapsible screen that can give either a black or white background. So for my most recent self portraits, I placed the screen behind me, used the softbox to my immediate left, and used natural light from our glass door in the kitchen. My camera was placed on a tripod, on our kitchen island about a metre or so away from me. And I had a remote trigger for a two-second shutter delay.

The setup worked well.

In post processing, I applied some touchups to my face to get rid of pimples and other unsightly marks and moles. Let me tell you, nothing makes you realize how old you are until you start touching up your own portrait.

I applied a vignette effect and softened the photo a bit, and on some portraits I transformed the image to black and white. You can one of the photos from my shoot in this past Tuesday's blog post.

Self portrait in AI, 2022.

But one other thing I've started doing to my self portraits, when I use them as my avatar for social media, is to run them through an AI editor. I started doing it for fun, with my first selfie, but when I didn't really like my photo from last year, I did it to try to make myself look better.

It didn't really make me look any better but for the first half of last year, that's what I used as my avatar.

This year, I don't mind my self portraits so much. I like them more than the portrait I paid for several years ago. But because I've seen what AI can do to a decent photo, I tried running them through it again.

Just for fun.

I didn't give the AI tool any parameters other than the photo. Not that I could do anything else with the tool that I used, which is accessed on a Web site: it simply has you upload a photo and it does its own thing.

The first result was really good, so I took it and am now using it for my profile pic for work, for some of my social media accounts, and even the picture of me for this blog.

But when the AI tool finishes cranking out your picture, it also offers several other takes, and the results were hilarious. So, for fun, I took another photo from my recent shoot—one with my glasses on—and ran it through AI.

My photo, with basic edits.

AI transformation of the same photo.

These ones had me in stitches. There's me, looking like I'm on the set of The Bachelor...

I choo-choo-choose you!

Another AI edit has me as a business-casual jet setter. I like how it's shed some weight off me. My head is still big (it really is huge) and they've cleaned up my hair.

Damn, I look good!

I don't know if I'd ever use AI for modifying any of my other photos, beyond what I've controlled in some of my enhanced photos. Even then, I was still in control of the changes.

But it's fun to play with AI. Happy Friday!

Beer O'Clock: Sober Suds

My beer fridge is pretty empty, these days.

By pretty empty, I mean that there are 10 cans of various brews, which take up about a third of the available space. But was surprised me, when I looked in the fridge the other night, was that 60 percent of the beer being chilled is non-alcoholic.

I haven't been drinking much beer, lately. When I saw some of the video that I shot in Costa Rica and my belly really stands out, I think I subconsciously slowed down my beer intake. Much of the non-alcoholic beer in my fridge is only 25 calories per can, so I've been reaching for those more times than for regular brews.

I had a case of 24 hazy ales from Partake, and they've been my go-to for having a drink, but I'm down to my last four cans. The other two non-alcoholic cans were picked up on the weekend.

I've seen cans from this brewery many times but I finally decided to go for a couple of cans of their session IPA, just to try this Montreal company. Let's take a look.

Organic Session IPA (0.5% ABV; 30 IBUs)
Sober Carpenter
Montréal, QC

Appearance: pours an unfiltered, effervescent pale straw that reminds me of ginger beer. The foamy white head settles quickly to a dense lace. Lots of sediment floating around and on the bottom of the glass.

Nose: it's a pretty closed nose but there are traces of lemon and what I can only describe as almost a vanilla pudding. But the aromas are very faint.

Palate: the malt comes first with a plain, biscuity flavour. My impression of ginger beer seems to be influencing my taste buds, as I detect almost a mild ginger with a similar bite on the back of the throat, much like I get when drinking ginger beer. The body is light, and with successive sips I get almost a cedar flavour.

Carpenter's shavings?

The finish is light to medium, with piney notes that border on turpentine.

Overall impression: this session IPA is refreshingly light but does not make me think of a session ale, nor an IPA, nor a session IPA. It's a piney ale that drinks almost like an unsweetened ginger beer. I like it and would probably drink it again, but I don't know if I'm ready to add it to my list of non-alcoholic beer that I would keep in my fridge.

Beer O'Clock rating: 🍺 + .5

You can find Sober Carpenter brews in various grocery stores and in the alcohol-free section of your friendly neighbourhood LCBO.

Cheers!

Back to the Mic

Ever since I've recovered from my second round of COVID, in October of 2022 (and I use the word "recovered" loosely), I've had a persistent cough and my lung capacity has diminished. I've never returned to my old self.

I notice my lungs when I try to sing, which is often. I sing in the shower. I sing while emptying the dishwasher or cleaning the kitchen. I sing just wandering the house.

I love to sing.

But I'm no longer able to sustain long notes and when I inhale deeply to belt it out, I'm more likely to start hacking. This makes singing a challenge because there are certain songs that I like to sing that I can no longer sing as strongly.

A couple of weeks after returning home from Costa Rica, my coughing has worsened. I suspect that because of the early thaw in Ottawa, allergy season is hitting harder, sooner. 

Recently, I made some plans to meet a couple of friends for karaoke night, this Friday. Ever since one of my friends gathered the courage to sing to a crowd, he's wanted to do it as often as possible, and that's great. We look for various venues to try, rather than stick to one spot.

We've gone to a couple of breweries in Orleans, tried going to a popular spot downtown but it was reserved for a special event, and tried a place in Gatineau, in addition to our old usual spot, near Alta Vista. And this Friday, we're going to return to the place in Gatineau to try our luck again.

The first time that we went to Bistro Bar l'Original, on Eddy Street in the Hull sector, last December, we were told that karaoke started at 9:00 and so wanting to ensure that we got a table, we arrived almost an hour early.

The place was pretty much dead.

Apart from my three friends, there was the bartender, a couple of patrons gambling on some gaming machines, and the DJ. As 9:00 came around, our table was the only one with people singing. By 9:30, a couple came in: the woman sang one song and then they left.

Other people came and went, with only a few of them actually intent on singing a song before moving on. But it was my friends and I who were the main entertainment of the evening.

On a usual night of karaoke, I will get in three songs; possibly, four; rarely, five. But on this night at l'Original, I sang nearly 20 songs. When the place finally filled up, near midnight, I figured that I could sing some of the songs that I had sung at the beginning of the night, because only my friends, the bartender, and the DJ had heard them (the gamblers had moved on).

We stayed until after 1 in the morning.

We're returning to l'Original on Friday but we're not getting there until 9. We're hoping that this time, now that the weather is getting better, that more people will show up.

I'm also hoping that my cough is kept at bay and that my lungs will cooperate. If you're in the area and have no plans, and if you like to sing, come on out and join us.

If you're nervous about singing in front of a crowd, come early. There may be very few to hear you.

This Is 59

And so, it starts: my final year in my 50s.

Next year, I'll officially be a senior citizen. I may even stop counting the years after I hit 60.

It's funny. Most of the time, I feel younger than I am, as though my brain hasn't quite caught up with the rest of my body. Until I look in the mirror.

I see more of my dad than I recognize of my early self. And he died at 62. I have three more years to reach that age.

But I'm going to live 59 like I have no time at all. I want to make every moment count, want to go to bed every night knowing that I didn't squander the day. Carpe diem, as they say.

This is 59. There may be a lot of mileage and a few dents and scrapes, but there's still gas in the tank.

Let's go.

Better Safe Than Quick

At the end of last year, DW and I were looking to cut some expenses, and because our antivirus software was up for renewal in January, we looked to see if we could get a better deal on other software. We were paying more than $100 a year for protection and we were hoping to reduce that amount.

We saw that one of the competitors, another well-known antivirus software company, was offering the same sort of protection as our current AV company but at less than a third of the price. We did a line-by-line comparison of features and functions, and we couldn't discern any noticeable difference, so we dropped our old provider and signed up to the new one.

Our old AV provider wanted to keep us and offered to reduce the annual fee, but it was still more than the competitor. In a last-ditch effort, they offered a renewal for only $40 but weren't willing to match the $30 price of the competitor, so we bid them a fond farewell.

So far, the new software seems to behave like the old folks but with one major difference: my laptop has slowed to a crawl. Looking up Web sites, accessing files, and performing photo editing have all slowed down. It's as though the antivirus software is stopping everything at a gate, padding it down, and interrogating it before it lets anything through.

The biggest slowdown comes through working on my blog posts. Sometimes, the keyboard lags. Adding images to my posts takes at least a minute to upload; sometimes, longer. If I'm uploading several photos at once, such as for a Wordless Wednesday post, it takes forever.

When I click the Publish button, sometimes my screen goes blank and it can take ages for it to refresh and tell me that my post has queued up successfully. In that time, I worry that something will go wrong and I will lose the content.

I have tried to figure out a way to increase the speed at which the computer can operate but so far, I can't find a solution without turning off some of the functionality of the AV software, and I don't want to do that.

The MacBook that DW bought last year seems to handle the software without any slowdown, and I'm almost tempted to start using it, instead of our Windows laptop.

We'll see.

But when this subscription comes up for renewal, I might see if our old protection provider will offer us that $40 to come back. The extra 10 bucks is certainly worth the hassle of having to wait.

Deserving of an Explanation

I have to admit: on Tuesday night, I was sitting in front of the TV, watching the news, when I had to remind myself that I hadn't yet put a blog post together for Wordless Wednesday. I still have hundreds of photos that I've shot but haven't looked at, from Costa Rica, but I wasn't in the mood to go through them.

After several weeks of posts about my latest vacation, I was getting bored. Were you? You didn't want to see more pictures of Costa Rica, do you?

I went from watching the news to streaming another episode of For All Mankind, an Apple TV+ series that I've wanted to watch for a long time but only started watching upon my return from my recent vacation. I'm hooked.

But after watching the episode, I started thinking that I needed something for the next post.

I needed it.

Feeling the need to post something is exactly why I stopped blogging for several months, in 2019. If, at any time, I felt that The Brown Knowser was more of a job than of something that simply brought me joy, I told myself that I would stop, and so I hung up writing on my blog for more than four months.

It seemed like much longer, for me.

So on Tuesday, I did what I often do when I need ideas or inspiration for blogging: I turned to old photos. I have literally thousands of photos that I've shot and done nothing with. I also have old slide photos that I digitized years ago, also just sitting in folders, untouched since I scanned them.

I went to that unorganized folder of scanned images and my eyes fell on a bunch of photos that I had shot shortly after I got my first SLR, my Minolta X-700, and I saw a bunch of experimental images that I had basically rejected after the slides came back from the lab. They were mostly photos that I had taken at night, practicing with a tripod and guesstimating how much exposure I needed to make the photo worthwhile.

The shutter speeds of this camera ranged from 1/1000 of a second to 4 seconds. If you wanted to take a longer exposure, you had to set the camera to Bulb mode and then either count or use an independent timer. Even today, my preferred method of timing in Bulb mode—even with my D-SLRs—is to count (although, my D-SLRs can expose for as long as 30 seconds on their own).

Using Bulb mode with film photography can be a bit of a crap shoot. Because you can't see your results right away, you had to make a note of each shot and the corresponding settings. I kept a notebook every time I took experimental photos.

One evening, I visited my sister Jen and her boyfriend at their apartment, not far from the Baseline and Merivale intersection. Their building was surrounded by townhouses and single family units on quiet residential streets.

I decided to set up my camera on a tripod and take some long exposures from high up. Focused on one of the quiet streets, I waited for a car to come along. I took a couple of shots at different exposure times.

Most of the shots didn't turn out and I ended up throwing out either black slides, with nothing exposed, or washed-out slides, with little to no definition. Even the one slide that I kept wasn't very good and sat in my collection of slides, never looked at again until I bought a slide scanner and digitized all of my photos, regardless of the subject or condition of the image.

You never know what future technologies can do to a poor shot.

On Tuesday, looking through old photos, hoping to find something to inspire me, my eyes fell on a shot from that night, in 1986, on my sister's balcony. And at first, I told myself, "You're never going to use that image. Why not just delete it?"

But I rarely delete photos. The subject has to either be so out of focus as to not be discernable, a head has to be cut off, or be an absolute duplicate for me to throw it away. I'll shove it into an obscure folder, rather than permanently discard it.

The photo was pretty awful: a residential intersection with a street lamp, the yellow, illuminated street signs glowing. An overall green hue fills the frame. You can see the painted stop lines on one of the roads, and curved streaks of headlights as an invisible car moves on the other street.

Something about the photo made me want to keep it just as much as part of my brain was telling me to delete it. But I decided that I'd ultimately try to do something with it before taking any drastic action.

Using my smartphone, I imported the image into Snapseed and immediately cropped out most of the photo, keeping the light trails. I then used the Healing tool to brush out any lights or spots in the shot, so that only the light trails appeared in the frame.

I then brought the contrast all the way up and took the saturation all the way down. I sharpened the lines of the light trails, and that was it. Here's the resulting image, which I shared for Wordless Wednesday.

What do you think? Should this image still go in the waste basket? Should I have skipped posting anything on Wednesday and just gone back to watching For All Mankind?

Spoiler, I made these edits and prepared the blog post, from my phone, while I listened to an episode of Professor of Rock, on YouTube. And then I went back to watching my space show.

Happy Friday!