SUVs are everywhere. But with gas prices soaring, and traffic often at a stand still, sometimes I just want to yell: “How many horses does it take to haul your fat ass to work?” The answer is One. My friend Juergen retrofits bikes with one-horsepower electric hub motors. Silent and powerful, with a range of 20km at up to 32km/h, the hub motor transforms an old bike into a commuter’s dream. When I told Suzy about this, she said, “Just pedal!” But I had visions of hundreds of kilometres of recreational trails opening up before me, and no sore thighs. For anyone who dreads humid morning pedalling, the ride to…

Sami Mohamad Mohamad hates cold. He doesn’t take ice in his Coke, and even ice cream doesn’t appeal to him. Yet today, Mohamad warmly embraced citizenship in cold’s Capital. It was 15C and he still wore a toque. He’s all set. We met Mohamad on a train. The Canadian cheering crew. Mohamad and Fouad with Judge Pinel (and Simon) All wrapped up about Canada.

I’m giving up Tim’s. The coffee anyway. I still like the vanilla donuts with the multicoloured sprinkles, and how the ones that fall off leave a little stain when I lick and dab my fingers to gather them all up.

We have “widow” and “orphan,” but there is no word to describe someone who has lost a child. I think it’s because the experience is unspeakable. Today we mark Jasper’s fifth birthday, and the death of his twin brother Angus. It’s really tough to celebrate and mourn at the same time. Try finding a card for that at the Hallmark store. I should probably write it. Ottawa is a good place to have a 1 ½ lb baby. The staff at the neonatal intensive care unit at the Ottawa Hospital (General Campus) was superb. Janet Brintnell is in charge of NICU nurses. She and her incredible team care for the…

Rob’s a middle aged network specialist. His salt and pepper crew cut reminded me of Colonel Sanders. We met at the 82 stop on Featherston, and had lots of time to chat because we’d missed our bus — there’s a new schedule. I was scanning the headlines on the Citizen box when he spoke up. “It’s a Virginia morning… moist and clear like the city was washed overnight. I love this weather!” I popped a losenge to relieve my sore throat. I offered him one and told him how a jolly high school teacher used to tell us students to “Suck on a Fisherman’s Friend” when we needed to feel…

“This isn’t news to us.” Susan Desjardins is part of Eco Energy Choices Ottawa, a not-for-profit research group that promotes community-focused energy efficiency in Ottawa. I just talked to her about the City of Ottawa’s refusal to issue permits to home owners who want to install a passive solar water heater on their roof. Passive solar water heaters save energy by preheating water using sunlight. This water is then heated to hot by the traditional water heater. Passive solar systems in optimal south-facing sites can save the homeowner up to 50% on the cost of water heating — hundreds of dollars per year on average. A complete system, including installation,…

Our friend Mohamad Mohamad will become a Canadian this Thursday at a ceremony on Catherine Street. I’ve already warned him that I will probably cry like a baby. Mohamad arrived in Canada from Baghdad via Libya almost 5 years ago. Suzy and I met him on a VIA train. We were en route to Ottawa from Toronto when we noticed with disgust that an overzealous ticket agent was giving a shy Middle-Eastern man a hard time for having too many bags – Mohamad was traveling with three large duffel bags that contained everything he owned.

“Head to toe camo is a must when hunting sharp-eyed gobblers.” There’s an aggressive wild turkey loose near Wakefield, just north of Ottawa. I was just about to lose my cool on a writing consultant who was late for a meeting this morning. But when he called to say he was trapped in his house by aggressive foul, I forgave him. I asked if he had a shotgun at home, to which he replied, “I don’t think we even have sharp knives.” O Canada! Quebec has come a long way from FLQ. Upon further investigation, I’ve learned that the wild turkey problem in Wakefield is a result of human intervention.…

Had a great chat with a Buddhist monk last week. On an impulse, I visited Ottawa’s Hilda Jayalan temple on Heron Road, not far from my Alta Vista neighbourhood. The building is modest, just a brick bungalow. But last week it was festooned with colourful striped flags and white lights, and was buzzing with people. I went in, just as the funeral was getting started. Oops. They made me sit at the front — two hours cross-legged on a thin cushion on the floor. I realized about half-way through just how far from enlightenment I am, all unstretched and achy. I need to do more sun salutations or at least…

After visiting jail last week, I’m have to write brochure copy about it. We have some great pictures to work with, and hours of good quotes caught on CD. I have an idea for how the images and text will work together. But I don’t think the client will like it. Picture the first panel. A rough-looking muscular guy with a shaved head stands next to some welding equipment, his tattooed arms crossed. Superimposed over the image: “No toaster.” The next panel is similar, perhaps with a guy next to a sheet metal cutter: “No razor blade.” Inside, somehow, the connection is made: “I’m not disposable.” I wanted to say,…

So Canada won’t meet the international target for foreign aid spending (0.07% of GDP). The PM says we can’t afford it, even though many poorer countries do. Bono’s gonna be pissed, Paul. What’s rarely reported are the individual contributions Canadians make every day overseas. One example is Russell Storring from Renfrew. I wrote about him last year for CIDA. Here’s an excerpt from the text, and a link to the full story: “As a human being and a Canadian, I am not happy with simply doing my job,” he says. “I don’t want to leave Afghanistan with the empty feeling I felt when I left Rwanda.” From Afghanistan, MCpl Storring…

No, not Ratzinger. Bigfoot. Buried in coverage of an old man in an old church is a snip about an old story. The Ottawa Citizen reported today that new footage exists of the elusive Sasquatch. The video was shot by a young man who was walking along the Winnipeg River in Manitoba. Yikes! Bigfoot’s getting closer! I thought it (he or she?) was somewhere in B.C. or Utah. Sasquatch is a first-nations word that means something like “hairy man of the woods.” Which makes me wonder if the video confirms the existence of a new species or just an early spring. There’s a lot of back hair out there raking…

This week I learned that there’s another Stuart Hickox out there, registered by INTERPOL, who is a convicted felon. And I’m glad it’s not me. Prison is pretty grim. I’m going to write more about my day in jail; today’s hectic at work. Suffice to say I now know what it’s like to look a cold blooded murderer in the eye. And shake his hand. I interviewed two first degree lifers yesterday. One will be in jail for life; during his first parole he killed and then dismembered a young woman, and left her body in a bog. Another guy bludgeoned someone to death in a bar fight. He was…

I am singing to you Soft as a man with a dead child speaks; Hard as a man in handcuffs Held where he cannot move. From Killers by Carl Sandburg This passage was marked with a bookmark in the poety collection left on the bedside table in the Sandburg Suite at the Frontenac Club Inn, the night before I spent a day in jail. Accidents and Convictions Ellen turned to me and leaned in over her Mediterranean salad. “There, but for the grace of God go I.” We’d just settled into a booth for lunch at Aunt Lucy’s roadhouse, a quick hitchhike from the gates of Joyceville penitentiary near Kingston.…

The Sandburg Suite is the size of the ground floor of my house. I just flicked on the gas fireplace and sank into a plush wingback, my toes freed of shoes, curled and stretched on the thick berber. We had a close call with the Four Points. Staying there would have been a crime. “You can’t go wrong with taupe.” When Maureen the hostess welcomed us to The Frontenac Club Inn today, she said, “Men like it here too.” It’s a heritage inn with no puff curtains – Queen kitch banished just blocks from the Royal Military College. This Inn is all about simple elegance and abundant comfort. A former…