Anytime I go AWOL from Walden it’s a bad sign. This was pointed out to me by a friend; it’s something I should recognize about myself by now. Some facts: To be happy, I need to write. And I need to spend time in the woods. Writing. In just over a week, Jasper and I head east to spend a glorious week by the woodstove in the cabin. Our neighbour friends and their four kids are going to cut their Christmas tree from our land, and we’ll decorate it together. Tonight I’m going to call my 95-year old Gram to set up an early Christmas dinner with her. I’m leaving the laptop at home. Any good book suggestions?
My nephew Calum is 14. His mom JD caught him looking at naughty sites on the Internet. He blamed me. I thought I was being a good uncle warning him about porn on the Internet. So he google-searched “porn on the Internet.” This is a true story.
I spent Thursday and Friday in Toronto. Despite what Mayor Miller says, Porter Rocks. I was in town to submit an overdue strategy for a province-wide compact fluorescent bulb campaign. The provincial government is trumpeting its vision for a new Culture of Conservation. I couldn’t help but notice that Queen’s Park is lit with incandescent bulbs.
We decorated the Boler this weekend and joined the Barrhaven Santa Claus parade. It was a night-time parade of light. Our float was the only one not powered by big diesel generators (we used a battery pack). Thousands and thousands of people lined Strandherd St. We handed out 800 bulbs. It was only later that I realized I’d been wishing people Merry Christmas on November 17. And that there was no Santa in the parade.
Porchlight Ottawa ends this week with a big party on Friday night. If you’d like to come, please let me know! The Hilotrons are playing. It’s a private gig, but if you’ve been patient enough with me to keep coming to this site while I’ve been distracted by light bulbs, Merry Christmas. You’re good to go.