I killed a mouse with a broom tonight. Was on the phone wishing happy birthday to my grandmother in PEI, who turns 95 this week, when Suzy wailed from up stairs. Gram was raised in rural PEI on a farm in a tiny community called Pleasant Valley. Now she plays Internet Scrabble. She’s sharp as a tack, but I was alarmed to learn from her just tonight that she’d spent 3 days in hospital earlier this month “because my heart was fluttering and the nitro didn’t help.” Since Dad died, I get most of my Hickox news from Mark in New England. So I had to let Gram go. “Gram,…

I think my favourite Easter was spent in Jerusalem, 1995. I’d just spent 3 months wandering alone through Turkey, Syria, Lebanon and Jordan and ended up in the Holy City on Palm Sunday. The next week was religious chaos. I participated in the procession of the stations of the cross through the old city and at one point was lifted off my feet by the crush of the moving crowd through the narrow streets. It was exhilarating and terrifying. They say you can’t go to Jerusalem and not have a religious experience. It’s true. I was already susceptible, and was swept away. My least favourite Easter was in hospital in…

This weekend I heard somewhere something I’ve been thinking about a lot. You can aim for a happy life or a meaningful life, but you can’t have both. They are exclusive. People who are happy live in the moment, appreciate what’s right here and now, and don’t dwell on the past or fear the future. People who aim to live a meaningful life, on the other hand, seek to understand the past and are concerned about the future. Is it true? It might explain why people who meditate – who really meditate, not just dabble – don’t have blogs. And why SUVs often have fat drivers. I’d like to be…

I had a blue weekend. Just this week I remarked to someone that 2007 was the first year in maybe ten that I didn’t have a bit of an emotional ebb in November. I said I thought it was the daily vitamin D pill I’ve been taking for 6 months. A miracle! But yesterday I felt like I should rebook my old shrink Hammy. We spent almost 3 years together (once a week) earlier this decade after a pummelling of three family deaths, and 5 years before vitamin D made the cover of Time. How could a little white pill the size of a pencil lead give me a normal…

Last year at this time I resolved to write more cards to people. Like, snail mail. That lasted about a week, ending abruptly when I realized I don’t know how much a stamp costs (and I still don’t know). And, ironically, 2007 was the year I spent the least amount of time in touch with close friends and family. Facebook was new, but it didn’t really help. So this year I’m renewing the old resolution with a twist: Instead of more Facebook, I pledge to spend more face time with people I care about. I’m sure it will make for a happier new year, and there’s no postage required.

I was sweeping the car port today, for the first time ever in January, when I thought, “God, I’m turning into one of those obsessive compulsive types…” Then I thought, ‘It’s too late.’ The thing is, I love getting rid of stuff. It’s become an obsession. And it occurred to me today when I was sweeping that what I really want to be in 2008 is the guy who has the most and the least. The exciting thing is, it’s totally within my grasp. The happiest times in my life have been those when I had the least stuff: 1) at the cabin when it was just built, 2) in…

At 1AM this morning I was doing a very bad karaoke duet of Macho Man with my colleague Suzanne at The Navy Club on Victoria Island. It was the Porchlight Christmas Party. Seven hours later I was pinning a Palestinian head scarf onto my seven year old as he scrambled to the stage in the inn keeper chorus during the annual Christmas pageant at Rideau Park United Church. Simon joined him later as a wee shepherd among the 30-odd kids who were part of the program (including two to made up a lumbering camel). It was an awesome concert. Simon’s line was “Wow, angels!” Today was my happiest day of…

It’s cold in PEI. -20C last night, which makes it about as cold as it gets here. The taps are left dripping a bit, and the bales of straw are doing the trick. The water’s still on. And this means I get to soak in my claw foot tub in the bath house, a quick run in bath robe and slippers through the snowbanks from the cabin. It’s worth the exposure. Jasper and I are nestled in.

“Isn’t it incredible?” she said, “Two of the passions of my life in one.” Cheese spreaders with snow-globe handles. It’s good to be loved.

Two days to go. The kids can hardly sleep. In 48 hours I should be damping down the wood stove for the night, carrying some sweaty kids into the loft for a deep Walden snooze under a snow-covered skylight. (The stove quickly turns the little winter cabin into a hothouse). We’ll be tired. Tonight Mom and Rod called from Summerside to report that PEI was socked in today with 30 cm of snow. That means that my little driveway that snakes through the maples from the road past the spring to the cabin will be drifted over. I’m bringing snow shoes for Jasper and we’ll pick up a cheap sled…

It’s the holiday season again. People who know me know that I’m most in the Christmas Spirit in November. It wanes as December 25 approaches. Might have something to do with the pressure or shopping, overeating, darkness. It’s three weeks to Christmas Eve and there’s too much snow on the bushes to put up the lights and I’ve only bought a few gifts. At the risk of destroying my credibility as an environmentalist, I’m thinking seriously of having an “Old Fashioned Christmas” by replacing some CFLs with 60-watters. We can all gather around the warm yellowy glow of yesteryear as we read the revised report from the IPCC. Comfort and…

Suzy’s been away since Friday morning, in Calgary helping out with the Alberta campaign. I took the opportunity to throw stuff out. I found an entire box of curtains in the linen closet, taken down last from our apartment on James St. in 1999. The box also included the stars and moons shower curtain that Suzy used to have in her Powell Ave apartment. That was before we moved in together in 1997. I was shocked to find this stuff. Right there on the shelf of the linen closet, in plain view. Taking. Up. Space. Shock subsided to glee. I Love getting rid of stuff I’m not using. It’s my…

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.”…