I’ve decided to write here every day this week. I’m not going to tell anyone about it, though, in case I just don’t. I don’t have many traditional vices, aside from German beer by the half-litre can and a lingering childhood self-doubt, but pledging to write in my site is much like declaring an end to smoking, except backwards. See, if I have to write here daily, this is the kind of crap you’ll get. Maybe I should stop thinking about you. So what’s new? I stole coffee money from my four-year-old son’s Thomas the Tank Engine wallet the other day. The shame, the shame. And I was really concerned…

It’s Hallowe’en again, already. October 31. I love this time of year, and hate it. The leaves blow urgently across the roads in mobile piles like lost souls. Beautiful, but an obsessive’s neatnut nightmare. Listen carefully and you’ll hear a distant leaf blower, 24 hours a day. There are more dead squirrels on the roads this month. In the rush to pack away nuts they don’t look both ways. Santa and Satan battle it out in the stores, the pitch forks on the backside of the aisle of nativity scenes. The juxtaposition is delicious. Both holidays are about death, but then everything is, ultimately. I felt compelled to ask a…

It looks like George Bush was wearing a wire during the Presidential Debate. Gotcha!!

I know, your heart leaps to see new text here, right? Mine too. “But why doesn’t he put up a new photo?” Simon has hair now. And is about 2 lb bigger. Jasper’s in school, no longer crying each day en route. Resigned or loving it, we don’t care. I was one of those kids — held onto both folding doors of Bus 93 in Winsloe, bawling. Not sure who it was who kicked me onto that big orange bus to hell. The office is now a rec room, the spare room now an office. I no longer work at home, and in my absence the office has moved above…

My brother Lowell is a Dad. It makes me well up just writing this, I love that guy so much. I’m an uncle! Ryan Thomas Hickox was born this morning at 8AM in Calgary. Sharon needed a cesarian, because the little guy was comfy and sideways in his warm, wet little nest, but mom and baby are doing well. Ryan has a big head (like cousins Jasper and Simon), so he opted to take the alternate exit. We’re just glad he’s here. So beautiful. So much promise, this life. And so lucky to be surrounded by so much love, pure and powerful, undiminished by the miles. Welcome, Ryan!

I’m on the wagon. It’s been four days since my last bowl of Kellog’s Mini Wheats. Things were fine until I discovered that they now come in brown-sugar coating. White was PEI trailer-park. Remember the Mini Wheat guy? The little shredded pocket with an earnest side and sweet ass. Love me! Eat me! Fun and healthy and no Kaptain Krunch. So overboard. We only got to eat the Kaptain at the neighbour’s cottage when Gram was out picking berries. I tried him and didn’t switch. My friend Alex confessed this weekend that he broke down and bought Frosted Lucky Charms cereal. He volunteered this as I was wiping baby puke…

I’ve been bought. And if you’ve been coming by looking for new posts here, two things: God Bless You Faithful Reader, and, You must be tired of Mini Wheats by now! Two weeks ago I started a new full-time job. I’ve worked for myself since 1998 (accolade.ca), and so I thought biting the bullet to take a job that has me at a desk 5 days a week working for someone else might be tough. Instead, I LOVE IT. The setting is great, the people too. I’m busy and challenged and I have a nice office and a good salary and … It’s just great. Here’s my new work home:…

(Or; What Not To Do When Home With Three Small Children) Take electric stainless steel kettle (recently purchased for ludicrous amount of money). Place on gas element. Turn on the fire and leave the room. Return to find kettle aflame (very aflame) — very smelly burning rubber, black smoke. Enlist two walking small children to open all doors and windows (whilst remaining ever so calm) in an attempt to not have fog horn smoke detector/alarm system go off and subsequently wake up one non-walking child and summon 20 firefighters. Try to blow out spectacular kettle fire while making wish (Think: Should I bother with baking soda? Wonder: Where did Stuart…

New babies understand the art of torture. Sleep deprivation has a subtle yet profound long-term effect that eventually affects the judgement of the subject, even making him/her the victim of his/her own errors. That’s why all new parents ignore the following advice at their peril: It’s really not a good idea to apply cooking oil spray to the BBQ grill after it is lit. Don’t try to save time by pulling on a t-shirt while running up stairs. Burp before bounce. Picnic note: Animals love spit-up. Keep the kid out of reach of cats and seagulls. Gas while changing the diaper is a universal warning sign. Be prepared to engage…

The New Yorker magazine reports this week that while the US Military is considering bolstering its numbers by a return to the draft, the benefits package alone is attracting enough new recruits for now. Among other perks of serving Uncle Sam is free cosmetic surgery for soldiers and their families. Women wanting breast emlargement surgery, however, must provide their own implants. Meanwhile, in Canada, The Globe and Mail reported yesterday that our ageing population has resulted in 100,000 drivers with dementia. The number is expected to skyrocket over the next ten years. Just another good reason to sell the car and take the bus.

A video peek into the birth of baby Simon, June 15, 2004! High resolution. Lower resolution.

One lightbulb. Bright idea. Sometimes a solution to a problem is so simple, it seems it can’t possibly be true. The problem is air pollution. The public health department of the City of Toronto reported this week that 1700 people died in the city last year because of complications from air pollution. 6000 more were admitted to hospital for the same reason. The cost to taxpayers is in the billions of dollars. The matter of why the media is not declaring a national crisis over ?r?pollution (as they have with SARS and West Nile) is another story entirely. And it seems like an insurmountable problem. Not so. Change one light…

“Walden; Or, Life in the Woods,” by Henry David Thoreau, is 150 years old this week. And Thoreau himself would be 187 years old today (July 12). Find out more about the original Walden by visiting the Walden Society Web site. A great set of links about Thoreau. But not everyone is happy. Someone tried to hand out free copies of Walden at a Walden Pond and was told to leave due to copyright infringement. Thoreau would say, “Break the Law.” Thanks to Tom at Iconise for sending this link. Henry David Thoreau was an unsettled mystic. A bit of a loner (hence the cabin in the woods), but far…

Growing boy meets replanted clearcut. New video of Jasper at Walden Cabin, May 6, 2004. Low resolution Higher resolution

Last night on CBC’s The National there was a story about off-shore oil resources in Nova Scotia. There’s an on-going fight between the federal and provincial governments over who will get the revenues from the millions of barrels of crude oil being pumped from hundreds of metres below the ocean floor off the Nova Scotia coast. While the reporter told the story, the TV showed the massive rigs on the water with tall steel frame towers aflame at the tips with surplus gas. It occurred to me to wonder how we got to the place where we fuel our society with rotten compressed plant matter. It doesn’t make a lot…