The Brown Knowser

In all honesty, I rarely go to Loblaws anymore. When DW and I first moved to Barrhaven, this large Canadian grocery chain was one of the closest stores to us and the prices were reasonable, if not better than other grocery stores in the hood. And shortly after we moved to the neighbourhood, Loblaws built an even bigger store, across the street from the old one, allowing for an Independent grocer to move into the old location. But then Sobey's got better and moved to a bigger location, and a Farm Boy opened close by. Barrhaven got a Food Basics and a Metro, and eventually, a Costco. And Walmart also started selling groceries. Our community has a lot of choices when it comes to groceries. And because we have a lot of choices, you'd think prices would come down to be as competitive as possible. Loblaws used to be one of the least expensive grocery stores: it's now one of the most expensive. DW and I have a Saturday routine. We get to Costco as early as possible. It officially ...

I remember when Merivale Road used to be only two lanes. But it must have only been for a short period. When I was four, I learned how to ride a bicycle. I was living in the garden homes between Chesterton Drive and Bowhill Avenue, behind what was then the K-Mart Plaza, which included a Dominion grocery store, a TD bank, a Living Lighting store, Giglio's barber shop, Gow's Chinese take out, and a Brewer's Retail. I've written about this old neighbourhood before, with some aerial shots from 1976 for reference. Across the street from this shopping plaza were single-unit homes, which were separated by the two-lane Merivale Road. I remember riding my bike along this street, which, in 1969, didn't see much traffic. It wasn't the bustling thoroughfare of consumerism that it is today. When the road widened to four lanes, a few years later, but still before the field was cleared for where the Merivale Mall now stands, my friends and I would have to look both ways a...

I really meant to have some of this ale with me when I was watching the solar eclipse , a couple of weeks ago. I even meant to have it reviewed for the Thursday that followed the celestial event. A friend, Marc, had picked up the beer on the Friday before the eclipse and I had intended on driving to his place to pick it up, but weekends are tricky for driving to the east end of Ottawa. And I was also totally preoccupied with making sure that I had everything ready for the big day. No matter. I received my six-pack on the following weekend, at the same karaoke night where my other friend, Perry, unexpectedly brought me some of his homemade brew . Guess which beer suddenly became my priority? Anyway, thanks to Marc for thinking of me when he went to purchase this limited beer release and for bringing it to me on karaoke night. When I saw the label of this ale, from one of my favourite breweries, I immediately knew I would be both in for a treat and a disappointment. Stray Dog is very goo...

Let me start off at the very beginning by saying in all earnestness that I don't believe that I'm dying. I think that I'll be around for enough years that those closest to me will be wishing for my demise. So, a few more years, anyway. But seeing that I have no crystal ball and nobody has yet determined what's going on with my lungs, and I could get hit by a 10-ton truck tomorrow, there's no telling how long I, or any of us, really, will be around. Lying awake in the middle of the night, after a serious coughing fit woke both me and DW up, where the hacking was so severe and unrelenting that I thought my head would split open, and where I exiled myself to our spare room so that DW could get back to sleep, my mind turned to dark thoughts. What if my condition is serious? What if there is no cure and that the now five different inhalers are doing nothing? I started with a red and a blue inhaler that weren't particularly effective, and after receiving the resul...

Many years ago—decades, actually—I would walk into a Glebe pub and if one of the owners, Rose, was behind the bar, I would greet her and then say, "A pint of PP, please." Rose knew what I meant and she'd reach for a clean pint glass and go to a tap that had a picture of a black Labrador on it. Around the picture was the proper name of the porter that flowed into the glass: Scotch-Irish Brewing Company Black Irish Porter. But I affectionately referred to the beer as PP —Perry's Porter. Perry, the owner of the brewery and brewmaster (and very good friend of mine), came up with the nickname at its release party, at the Arrow & Loon Pub (though, when he said it, he used a bit of a French accent and made it sound like he was saying "pee-pee"). Rose and Paul, the original owners of this now-gone establishment, became friends with Perry just before he started his brewery and just before they opened the pub, and they were the first pub in Ottawa to serve Perry...

When it comes to photography, I don't know if I have a style. I tend to think that I have a wide range of styles. I shoot landscape. I shoot nature. I shoot portraits, including models (either dressed or not). I shoot abstract. I shoot long exposure and I freeze action. I shoot wide-angle and I shoot closeups. Occasionally, I shoot macro. I shoot in the day and at night. Indoors and out. Recently, I drove nearly 300 kilometres to capture once-in-a-lifetime images . It was totally worth it. I think my photography centres on capturing life moments that I am experiencing but there's more to my photography than that. My studio work can't be said to be a moment in my life in the same way that travelling for a vacation and witnessing a sunset on a beach, for example, which in turn isn't the same as sitting near a window in my house, watching birds feeding at our feeder. One of my favourite photos of 2022 was captured when I was sitting in my favourite chair, watching TV. ...

I don't know why it bothers me so much, but it does. I'm finding that I have a love-hate relationship with Threads . I love that I've reconnected with some of my virtual friends after leaving the dumpster fire that's marked with an X. I love how the algorithm has connected me with some new folks who seem like-minded, particularly those who share my love of photography. The algorithm doesn't always get it right and sometimes I find some head-scratching posts in my feed. I hated how my feed seemed polluted with porn bots but after blocking any that showed up, they now seem to be far and few between. But one type of post that seems to end up in my feed more and more, due to my love of seeing photo threads, are posts by folks that set up a theme of the day, in which they rate and then share what they feel are the most noteworthy images. I have no issue with anyone who wants to start a photo thread based on a theme. I've participated in many of them: I have a large e...

There was no mistake about what I was getting. But as a newcomer to this brewing company, I wasn't sure what it was called. You see, the first thing that grabbed my attention was the top of the can, which clearly reads Hazy IPA . Good. I was in the mood for one. Filling the top half of the can was an image of a fish with two legs, a top hat, and cane, a la Loonie Tunes Singing Bullfrog, surrounded by the words Something In The Water . Hazy IPA is repeated, toward the bottom of the label, with Maitland , in a different font, separating the two words. Was Maitland the name of the brewing company, I asked myself. There's a Maitland, Ontario, which rests along the St. Lawrence River, between Prescott and Brockville. It's quite possible. I don't like to look too closely at a label on a beer can or bottle because I don't want to be influenced by any descriptions of the contents. For me, it's best to open the can, consume some of its contents, make some deductions of a...