Sub-ordinates

Before: the massive water infrastructure installation site in the Allan Gardens: what's left of the big hole that sat behind hoardings for almost four years.

After: Same site, resodded. 

Some of my readers may be aware of the agreement reached by First Ministers early in February in Vancouver to work together on Clean Growth and Climate Change. 

This is what's called a "Pan-Canadian" effort, because the term "national" offends the tender sensibilities of Quebec.

This is also the first time in a decade that federal officials have had to put on their "away" uniforms and play with the provinces. They have been told to play nice. But, like the big, awkward new kid who doesn't know his own strength, the federal team can't help itself but wreak a little havoc.

As always, these are confidential matters, so it's time to take a trip to the land of the Yessir Yessir Highway and our friend the Ruler and her Advisors.

*****

The Ruler of a small but pleasant realm found herself with some time on her hands. She hadn't seen the Henchman in days, nor any messengers with demands from her bosses of the second-through-fifth powers, and she finally, after many months, had gotten through all her paperwork.

She decided she'd go for a walk.

On her stroll, she passed close to the old stone wall that separated her realm from that of another Power.  Rumour held that the Power was terrible. Fully fifteen times the size of any kingdom, the Power was supposed to wield awesome magic that had, long ago, thrown the whole world as it was known then into a vast conflagration unleashing destruction and pestilence everywhere.

But, thought the Ruler, as she passed her hand absently over the moss-grown, smooth old rocks of the ancient wall, that was long ago. No one had seen or heard anything of the Power for as long as she had been Ruler. These were old wives' tales.

She felt a stone in her shoe and leaned on the old wall for balance while she fished it out.

Ever so slightly, the part of the wall the Ruler rested her hand on moved. She thought the rock was just loose from the crumbling that comes with the passage of time.

She thought different when she saw the whole wall fall away on both sides for as far as the eye could see. For the first time in living memory, the vast and terrible Power lay revealed before her.

What the Ruler saw made her knees tremble. 

There were legions of Advisors, ranks upon ranks of them, in numbers beyond counting. And each Advisor held a template. 

Some Advisors looked upon the Ruler and said, "You must fill in this template by Tuesday." 

And others said, "We must hold twenty-four teleconferences this week to fill in this template." 

And still others said, "We must meet with stakeholders to discuss what else can go in this template."  

And still others said, "We must meet face to face to fill in this template." 

And still others said, "We must form sub-groups and sub-sub groups and sub-sub-sub groups to fill in this template."

Overwhelmed by the sight and ruckus of the jabbering Advisors of the unseen-until-just-now Power, the Ruler covered her eyes and ears to give herself the opportunity to think. An idea came to her.

She raised her hands to the multitude in the internationally-recognized sign of "could you please shut up for just one second."

The horde of Advisors, trained in the international sign language, felt silent en masse.

Shouting as loud as she could so the whole giant crowd could hear her, she asked "Can you tell me why we must fill in these templates?" 

The baffled Advisors turned their gaze away from the Ruler and started to argue fiercely among themselves.

Half-running, half-hobbling, the stone still lodged in her shoe, the Ruler beat a hasty retreat. She'd bought herself some time, but the hordes would soon turn their attention back to her, and she would have to be ready.

To be continued ...

********

Lucky Dog Update

Pictured below is Pico, rescued from life in a puppy mill by our good friends Angie and Keith. You can see that Pico has adjusted to her new situation, and is now tied for sixth on the list of the top ten luckiest dogs in the world. Occupying sixth place with Pico, but not pictured here, is Slim, Angie and Keith's rescued Chi-weenie (half chihuahua, half mini-dachshund). 

Thanks for reading!

Have a great week!

Karen

Conversations About Leaks

The Battery, St. John's: May 11, 2016

The last time the province of Ontario released a climate change action plan - that would be in 2007 - there were a mess of leaks in the run up to the official release.

But, nothing comes close to the degree and intensity of the leak this past week - on Monday, when I was still on Newfoundland time, so that the enormity dawned on me about a half hour after everyone else.

The official climate change plan is still some time away from hitting the street. We are now on super double plus document distribution lock down. If there's another leak before the planned release, we'll have no one to investigate but ourselves.

Because of all the uncontrolled releases of information recently, I've spent a lot of time on the phone with stakeholders - people representing businesses that will be affected one way or the other by the government's plans.

One of these people said to me: "It must be a great feeling to be working on something that is in the newspapers and that everyone is talking about."

Maybe. Let's ask Mike Duffey about that.

Still, my neighbours are impressed. I'd hinted a couple of meetings of the condo board ago that there might be in the near future other things in the offing for home heating besides natural gas. A fellow board member loudly scoffed at the notion that anything would trump natural gas from now until the end of time. He's not scoffing now.

Thanks for reading!

Have a great long weekend!

Karen

The New Found Land

I'm torn over which photo to start with.  

This is Quidi Vidi. I'll bet it's one of the prettiest places in Canada and among the most Newfoundland-y.

But, the lighthouse at Fort Amherst is also Newfoundland-y.

And this sign harbours a newfie joke in it somewhere.

Tragic tales are a good lead, even of those foolish enough to test the waters at the easternmost point of Canada.

You can't go wrong with dogs. Especially when they are made of bronze. St. John's honours Newfoundland's two breeds with larger-than-life likenesses on the only public spot on the waterfront. 

Still, nothing says "local colour" like a big, rusty gun from the second World War left behind by the American military.

But, the real story about Newfoundland is rocks and water, so I think I'll start with this shot.

We're back home after a fun week away. If you want to know about where we stayed, what we saw and what we ate, I did all kinds of reviews on TripAdvisor: here, here, here, here, here, here, here, here, here, here, here, here, here, here, here, here, here, here, here, here, here, here, here, and here.

The best things about coming back home after a nice trip away: your own bed, your own shower and a cup of coffee made just the way you like it.

Thanks for reading!

Have a great week!

Karen

Halifax - the Saddest Place in Canada (that I've Been to So Far)

This is Merlin, the Macaw imprisoned for crimes he didn't commit at the Maritime Museum in Halifax, just one of the many sad things to see there.

Other sad things are the well done treatments of the Halifax explosion - an explosion so big, one has to look to Hiroshima for a man-made disaster that tops it - and the Titanic sinking, for which Halifax ships and men played a key salvage role in hauling corpses out of (and then, in many cases, throwing back into) the sea.

One thing I learned was that, before the advent of modern radar-supported navigation, Sable Island, otherwise famous for little ponies and offshore oil, was the place where more than 350 ships were wrecked, mostly due to currents and bad weather.

For Sable Island and other rescues at sea, some inventive soul created the "breeches buoy" a combination lifesaver ring and oil skin trousers, into which sailors who found themselves in the drink could crawl, and which could be hauled out of the sea with lines and pulleys. 

Notice that he saved his hat.

These cheered me up a bit.

Thanks for reading!

Karen 

Built in One Day

Our hotel - a Victorian home redone and built onto to become large enough to accommodate guests - is right across the street from Victoria General Hospital and right next to the Holy Cross Cemetery, established, like the sign says, in 1843.

I've always been drawn to graveyards. They are monuments to the fleeting nature of life - 

even in the attempt to memorialize and remember, there's nothing more forgotten seeming than an old grave marker, washed smooth by acid rain. 

Or anything sadder than the long-lasting, well-tended and recently-flowered headstones for lives that may not have lasted a day.

But, if you have friends in high places, and were a Prime Minister of Canada, you'll get a nice memorial.

Finally, the sad story of John Edward Power:

 

Thanks for reading!

Karen

Halifax Dispatch

Here we are in Halifax. So far, the nicest surprises have been the whirlpool bath in our hotel room ...

The impressive numbers of fine old homes once occupied by one or the other Father of Confederation and since turned into a nice place to have truly delicious fish 'n' chips and seafood chowder (that would be Henry House, properly famous for those two things on its menu)...

The plentiful opportunities to take pictures of Halifax children doing things they have most categorically and clearly been told not to do, in this case climb on this big blue tongue (Bruce says its a wave) sculpture ...

Plus the plentiful reminders of the wars our forefathers and mothers fought ...

And the visually challenging juxtapositions of old and new school aesthetics ... 

Finally, the practically limitless places to sit and enjoy a refreshing beverage, as we did at the Wooden Monkey on Prince Street late yesterday afternoon while we killed time and I nursed my hip before going to Press Gang (I highly recommend the oysters) for dinner.

Thanks for reading!

Karen