San Franciso is so awesome. The streets are dry. No need to work out. Just walking gets the heart racing. A street car clanged loudly at me today because I was driving the wrong way in its lane headed steeply down to the bay. Nobody, but nobody, drives a standard. But I’m tired. After three days of networking, speeches, a CBS interview, and talking in San Diego, I have two more days of the same ahead. And although I love my job, I feel a bit tapped. But I’m also overwhelmed by how lucky I am. I get to travel all over North America talking to people about how to…

Once, when I was maybe 10 my mom made me eat a raw onion when I asked her for 25 cents to buy the new Hubba Bubba grape. I did it. Another time, my grade two teacher Ms. Ferguson called me to the front of the class and offered me 25 cents if I hiccupped one more time. I didn’t. Photos: First winter at Walden Cabin in PEI (1995), and in 2007.

Sister-in-law JD’s looking for a dog. She found a hot prospect tonight on UsedOttawa.com, mixed in with listings for old CRT TVs and IKEA furniture: An 18-month-old Corgi. The ad’s a bit dodgy for a doggie posting. First of all, the owner posted what looks like a catalogue picture of a corgi. And it states emphatically that the dog is wonderful with “considerate children.” Upon reading the ad I was instantly taken back to the late 70s and remembered the hot rashy feeling of my wrist after Frisky gnawed on it. God love her she meant well and never broke skin, even though she scared the crap out of lots…

People are scared. This hit me today in studio at CBC as I was doing a live-to-air segment on Newsworld (interviewed by Suhanna Merchand from Toronto) about concerns that UV radiation from CFL bulbs can cause sunburns and other medical conditions. I’m often called to give this kind of interview, and I’m increasingly comfortable doing so, even though it’s weird to sit in a dark closet with just a camera and try to act as if you’re having a friendly chat. The other issues I’ve been asked to address since 2006 are legit: Mercury, safe usage, energy savings/empowerment of communities … But the radiation issue is different, and I think…

Tonight seems like a good time to share the story of my first trip to Washington, DC. I love Washington, and am there frequently lately with the project. It’s exciting to get to know a city — to find a favourite bookstore, a little hotel where you can get to know the desk staff, and even find an unpretentious clothes store that sells top notch shirts. My first time to Washington was in 1996. It was August and I was in town on business with the Canadian Psychological Association, where I was Managing Editor of the journals division. I’d been sent to CPA’s American partner org, APA, to discuss the…

It’s day 37 of the Ottawa transit strike. There’s no sign of a deal. But it didn’t really affect me until yesterday (aside from a slightly longer commute and new carpool company, which is actually quite pleasant). Yesterday I came home and was annoyed to find that my housekeeper hadn’t come to clean the house, as she does every two weeks while Suzy and I are at work. The place is overdue. Ceta hasn’t been here since early December, before the holidays. I’ve been keeping up with the tree needles and the laundry, but we count on her for a twice-monthly scrub. And we’ve set her up with other friends…

I’m looking for a good slow cooker baked beans recipe, preferably one that includes molasses. I was proud of myself yesterday because I’d gotten organized enough to soak a large bowl of black-eyed beans for a full 24 hours before I carefully layered them with sliced plum tomato, onion and brown sugar and a few healthy chunks of fatty pork tenderloin in my slow cooker. I set it to Low and went to bed, but was horrified to discover in the morning that I’d forgotten to plug it in. Slow indeed. So I’m ready to try again, but want to use molasses. What a great word! I’m really craving molasses…

I’m fighting with a couple of books, for very different reasons. Downstairs on the side table by the front window rests Pillars of the Earth by Ken Follett. It was my third Christmas read, and the one that provided the bridge for that awkward and often painful period between an easy work-free New Years afternoon and the return to work. The problem is, at page 800 I just want it to end. I’m invested, but I’ve learned all I want to about cathedral building, thank you. With every page turned I skim along hoping for a raging pestilence, a spectacular tumbling buttress or a sudden surge of wild uninhibited witches…

My son Jasper (8) is growing up. He loves hard guitar music, is fearless on a snowboard and, last week, shocked his mother when he told her he liked how “some girls have shirts that show a bit of their belly.” I’m having trouble keeping up. And sometimes feel out of place. Like at his hockey games. A year ago he could barely skate. Then, suddenly, he is a sought-after goalie in Novice B. Other parents at games call him “fantastic.” But I still feel out of place. The thing is, I’ve never been a hockey fan. And a year into going to Jasper’s games, I still don’t really know…

I’m in Washington. I love it here. And it’s not just the lack of snow. Think about it: The US has just endured what some here are calling “the lost decade,” nearly a decade of perhaps the worst president ever unless you consider James Buchanan (1857-1861), whose dithering nearly split the country as he remained indifferent to slavery and somehow didn’t see the Civil War coming. That was bad. There should be statues to Lincoln in Ottawa. Canada was formed when the Fathers of Confederation realized the US was getting its act together and they figured they’d better get theirs in shape too before the US took over everything north…

I often feel a bit shattered at this time of year, if it’s possible to be a “bit” shattered. A big party’s over. And resolutions no longer seem to reassure. Last year my sister-in-law and I pledged to give up breakfast meats (“Who needs bacon, really?”), but it didn’t last. And today I toyed with the idea of putting down $60 for the half-marathon training course at Running Room, but just walked out (slowly) with the brochure. With age comes some self awareness (or at least I think that’s why; ask me when I’m older). So it’s a bit amusing to be conscious that I just can’t pack the Hallmark…

Day five of seven sharing a ski chalet at Sutton, Quebec with the in-laws and cousins over Christmas break. Jasper (8) is on the floor on a mattress beside the bed where Suzy and I are curled up with the Little Monk (Simon, 4). It’s 11:45 PM “Dad! I Can’t Sleep!!” “Dude, you just have to close your eyes.” “No! It’s NOT working! I don’t know what to do!” “Just close your eyes!! Think about the day you just had on the hill. Your awesome snowboard lesson. Think about the fun we’re having here, and all the family with us.” “OK.” “Think about your friends from school back at home.…