To deal with the threat of avian flu, China is cracking down on the transport of chickens. The government in Beijing is modeling a public awareness campaign after successful US advertising. Billboards ask: “Got Bird?” Meanwhile, in Ottawa, I awoke at 3AM last night convinced that a squirrel was chewing its way into my bedroom. Suzy’s yell woke me from my state, and I found myself across the room banging on the wall. A report in the national press this week suggested that Ottawa Jewish sites were targetted for terrorist acts in 1999. One of the alleged targets, a large synagogue, is around the corner from my house. The press…

Running is easier when you keep your eye on the middle distance. I discovered this today. Suzy signed me up for a 10k training course as a Christmas gift (the jury’s still out on whether this was a generous gesture or a way to kill me), and I’m just starting to get the hang of running. It seems that one of my problems was a tendancy to stare at the ground. I must have looked like the Hunchback of Notre Dame in tight pants and reflective tape. Love your body: Consider taking a Running Room course. Looking up helps. The sun was setting during my run today, and my eyes…

Bright red cardinals are suspicious birds. Maybe they’re aware how ridiculously conspicuous they are. Unlike the ubiquitous sparrow or carefree chickadee, a cardinal grabs a seed from the feeder, and turns around while eating. Poor things, I guess vigilance is the price you pay for beauty. Cardinals, the celebrity winter bird. Video: Birdbrain. I’ve never understood why people choose to walk on the road in winter, thinking it’s safer than the slippery sidewalk. And crunchy snow is not a good excuse, Elizabeth! (see comments, below). Speaking of risk, who decided it’s important to label chain link fences: Frost Fence. Gee, thanks. I would have licked it otherwise. Phew. Environment Canada…

The other day I received an e-mail from a Canadian guy I was writing about who is based in Afghanistan. I’d written him to ask if I could interview him. He wrote back excitedly, “Yeah, sure! You’re in Kabul? Just take the bus north to Kunduz and I will meet you there. It’s an easy trip.” Suddenly I wished I could hop on that bus and head into the Hindu Kush mountains to meet a fellow Canadian for a chat. That would be cool. But I conducted the interview from Canada. Chris McGeough is 41. He’s a Calgary-born adventure traveller who went to Afghanistan last year to drive a snow…

I make terrible coffee. A lot of people do. But it’s just one of those things; unless you know it yourself, no one will ever tell you — kind of like having bad breath or navel fuzz showing through your dress shirt. So we go through life drinking bad brew, smiling weakly. There’s hope for me. Confession is a start, and I know people who can help me. To get through winter, it’s time I learned how to make good coffee. Read on, or continue to drink crappy java. Be glad. Celebrate sacrifice. Tonight I’m reading about Zambia, preparing for a client meeting in the morning. The facts are stunning.…

I just spent the last half-hour scaring the crap out of myself reading on-line info about the bird flu in Asia. And I wonder: What would I do if tomorrow the news reported that this new flu has become a new pandemic (like the one in 1918 that killed 50 million people in one month)? I think it might be time to consider buying some extra cans of beans, some powdered milk, tuna. It seems the only thing to do once a new pandemic comes is to stay at home and have no contact with other humans until it passes. (And I just found out that a good friend of…

The rest of the world should have a say in who gets to be US President. After all, he makes decisions that affect us all. This week, Maclean’s magazine published poll results that showed that 15% of Canadians would vote for Bush. This is taken as a powerful rejection of the US President. Meanwhile, national polls show that 15% would support NDP leader Jack Layton. This is seen as a strong endorsement. What momentum!! Here’s a great site for the American activist-wannabe: onetermpresident.org. You can download templates for flyers, and even a stencil for spraycan graffiti. Yeah, man. I’d do this all over Ottawa but, like, he’s not my stupid…

Everyone in this country should be given CPR training, for free. I attended a CPR Heart Saver course last night, and couldn’t believe the misconceptions I had about heart disease, symptoms, and emergency treatment. Here are some highlights; this is stuff everyone should know: Women are generally considered to be at lower risk of heart attack. This is based on bad information. Heart attacks in women manifest themselves so differently from men’s that many, many heart attacks in women are not factored into statistics. Heart attack symptoms in women tend to include a stiff neck and jaw pain, and may not include the typical male symptoms such as crushing chest…

Winter is a strange time of dark evenings spent flipping through gardening catalogues. We watch for signs of spring, but lately with a looming unnecessary war and a PM that won’t quit, signs point to something more serious afoot. Or, maybe I just had too much egg nog over the Holidays. You decide. Signs of the end of days? Or just post-holiday hangover?

I’ve discovered snowboarding. Yes, at 34 years old. I had to borrow my wife’s purple snowpants, but it was still fun. No one laughed (in my face). The beginner’s class at the local ski hill was packed with middle-aged cool wannabes like me – some in better shape than others. Our 12-year-old instructor instilled great confidence as we took the quad lift to the top of the hill. I was almost creamed by a snowplowing toddler, and then I smacked into this cute blond Australian girl. But after a half-hour of instruction, I hit my stride, and had a great time! At one point I caught myself humming Beach Boys…

It’s New Years Eve 2002, and time to get back to work. This morning the insanity of the season hit me full force while sweeping up needles (again) and singing Julian Lennon’s Valotte. (‘Thinking of a reason, well it’s really not very hard … to love you even though, you nearly lost my heart …“) I was snapped out of my descent to 80s reverie by my toddler yelling, “Daddy, that’s HORRIBLE!” Suzy then suggested that I escape to a music shop to cash in a CD gift certificate. I thought of Julian Lennon’s Greatest Hits, but we agreed it would have only a couple of tracks on it. Still,…

The Tim Horton’s chain calls them Seasonal Figures. The Gingerbread Man, neutered for the 21st Century. At Zellers you can buy gingerbread women cutouts, little tin shapes differing from their traditional male counterparts only by the above-the-knee dress. Which cookies you bake may say a lot about who wears the pants in your house. My reaction to outrage at seeing individual seasonal figures for sale at up to $4 each led me to attempt to bake gingerbread folks in quantity at home. What could be more fun for a dad and son to do on a Sunday before Christmas? Turns out, lots of things. Here are some tips for those…

Suzy and I were determined to be prepared for Christmas this year. Even Alex came over to help. We made 2lb of delicious chocolate covered almonds — see the Martha Stewart recipe. Roasted blanched almonds, cooked in cinnamon and sugar and then coated with semi-sweet chocolate. It ended up more like chocolate almond chunks for us because we were not willing to manually separate hundreds of little almonds. Now that they’re all gone, five days before Christmas, we’ve decided to make another batch Sunday for our friends and guests.

There was a moment of silence before the door closed and the clock started. Squeeky soles in the hall on the way in stoked memories of days of deeper sadness. The winter shoes. The woman each week, in tears on the way out, frames despair like a wall in a dark room. Perspective. Today, treats, and revelation. We really should relish the Holiday that includes biting off the ginger bread head — the peppermint buttons rolling on the tongue. And maybe take note of the madness defined as speeding over the limit past the Buddhist Monastery, on the way to the mall. Om. Vroom. Oh, Holy Night. Oh, what a…

Orion is high in the sky tonight, bright despite the streetlights. Seeing The Warrior stalk the winter sky always reminds me of the first time I marvelled at his soft underbelly, milky nebulae among the stars, visible even with Grandpa’s old binoculars. That first night was silent, except for crickets, and gentle too; a sweet dew-soaked grassiness hung heavily in the August air. Those were simple times at the cabin, slower. There was no urgency aside from eager anticipation as Orion crested the horizon that night.