We were driving with Jasper and Simon, not sure where, when Jasper suddenly piped up, “Mom, Dad, are you voting for Dalton McGuinty?” Jasper’s seven. He can read. And there are signs all over our riding. The Premier lives about 3 blocks from us. “What do you think we should do?” we asked. Jasper didn’t hesitate. “I hate Dalton McGuinty. He raised my taxes.” Jasper watches a lot of hockey on TV. And John Tory has good ads (if not good advisors).

I’m really proud of my headstands. I’m damn good at them. I also enjoy fire – just about anywhere. I used to set the backyard ablaze in PEI, back when all the neighbours had two-acre yards that had been converted from potato fields. We lost more tree seedlings to wildfires! Nowadays I’d love to have a backyard fire here in Ottawa, but it’s subject to bylaws and is officially known as a “controlled burn” – and you need a permit. ( sigh ) I fear that Jasper will never experience the searing joy of beating a line of grassfire back with an aluminum spade. This weekend I discovered that cranberry…

I tried to take some time off today. But the chair at the Wild Oat was stiff and my latte sour and, well, it was too hot for October 5. I’m no fan of Ottawa winter, but a little crisp fall air would be nice. I needed some air. So I walked. Right into a sex shop. Venus Envy is on Lisgar Street, a one-way turn off Bank right downtown, just across from the Bible Shop. Seriously. The good folks at Venus Envy describe themselves online as an “educational erotic shop,” which is probably just another way of saying, “No, we don’t sell raunchy porn and our carpet doesn’t smell.”…

A friend called this week. She said, “Is that a new kid in the background?” We hadn’t spoken for about 5 years. Yet we picked up where we’d left off. We laughed and talked about life and, well, stuff. We used to do this two nights/week at Cedar’s in Charlottetown, a little lebanese place just up from Province House in PEI. Back then on Fridays and Saturdays I’d get off work at Maclean’s grocery smelling like leaded gas ($3/hour pumping and packing in a one-cashier country store) and drive to town to meet Tara. We’d drink coffee and smoke Benson and Hedges menthol and eat pita sandwiches with orange cheese,…

The nice thing about writing here, now, is that this site has been dead for months, so I can pretty well say what I want without consequence (or being read). I have a thing for Claire Martin. And today she’s wearing a Ms. Strombolopolous t-shirt. That’s just not right. Suzy knows all this, including the weird (and innocent) obsession. She sent me a link a few months ago with “bye bye” as the subject line, when Claire announced she was moving to Vancouver. Suzy hadn’t read all the way to the end of the CBC announcement, so I was pleased to see Claire would be back on air this fall…

Returning soon?

Oh, how I want to write My, how I’ve got lots to tell Oh no, I don’t know where to start