A Koobickle Compendium

Holiday Bonus

2011-12-21T14:30:00.002-05:00

Sophie arrived at 8:03am on December 20th, weighing 7lbs. 2oz. She has long fingers, her great-grandmother's feet, and is very sweet. Here she is, one hour old, getting to know her dad:

A few hours later:

Granny, Grandpa, and Jasper meet her:

One day old:

Baby Shower

2011-12-04T16:02:00.005-05:00

Second babies do not necessarily gets showers. But this one does, lucky girl! Tine plays hostess in her beautiful sunlit living living room:

Delicious spread:

Café et champagne:

New playmat:

Lots of PINK:

Rosy bear playsuit offers just the right amount of menace:

Gorgeous dress, made by Anna:

Concord Grape Pie

2011-09-30T20:02:00.008-04:00

Something new this year! First, pick the grapes:

Enlist aid of nimble-fingered helper:

Every grape must be peeled individually:

Cooked, deseeded grapes rejoin their skins, along with a little sugar, flour, and lemon:

Bake for the better part of an hour:

Final product:

Peggy's Cove

2011-09-08T23:04:00.006-04:00

Lobster traps at Peggy's Cove, Nova Scotia:

Atlantic coastline:

Le fameux phare:

They aren't kidding with their safety warnings:

The waves are very big:

And he is very small:

Bouncing around like a little mountain goat:

Supratidal pools on the rocks:

Tucking in to lobster and mussels:

The town:

A safer set of rocks to climb on:

Oh boy, ropes!

Wooden fishing floats:

Reminisced about B.C.'s purple sea stars with an old fisherman who'd spent a couple seasons in Prince Rupert, and he gave me some dried starfish from his lobster traps (they like to creep in to nibble at the bait):

Freedom '55:

More lobster traps:

Exciting moment for the eco-minded: a composting toilet:

2011 Garden

2011-08-09T14:20:00.016-04:00

Clearing up last year's old leaves:

Tulips in May:

Irises in June:

Herbs—parsley, sage, mint, oregano, thyme, tarragon, and chives (also basil, rosemary, dill, and cilantro on the balcony):

Something to keep the ants occupied:

Bleeding hearts, impatiens, astilbe, begonia, mint, and ferns in the back corner, under the plum tree:

Impatiens, lupins, and a stray iris along the back fence:

Lupin with bumblebee:

The peonies caught some kind of nasty fungus this year, but a handful of blooms appeared nonetheless:

New addition: William Baffin rosebush:

Reading corner:

Breaksfast at the new picnic table with umbrella:

Hydrangea and impatiens in the back planter:

The blueberry parfait hydrangea turned partially purple this year:

Miniature rosebush next to mystery purple-flowered shrub:

Jasper's beans (which he planted alongside the nasturtiums and geranium):

Black-eyed susans beneath the grape and hops vines:

Green grapes:

Front planters: coleus, sweet potato vine, and nasturtiums:

Boston ivy starting to climb the wall:

Summer rainstorms made everything lush and green this year:

St Andrews

2011-03-30T21:40:00.004-04:00

The conference trip culminated in St Andrews, a university town on the north-east coast of Scotland. From the map, St Andrews looks to be approximately the same size as the golf course for which it is renown. Everything is wonderfully old and stony, with gray ruins running all along the eastern cliffs and down to the beach. Its churches date back to around 700A.D. (although the existing ruins are somewhat newer), and the university was founded in the early 1400s. The School of English stands directly across the street from the ruined castle.

Entrance over former moat:

A university building, with the School of English in the rear right:

The School of Moral Philosophy:

Spring flowers on the university campus:

Dove with hyacinths:

Flowering holly:

Polite notice:

House atop the cliffs:

Seaside walkway:

Adjacent garden:

Ivy with a view:

No fences here:

Kissing seagulls—or so I thought. A reader informs me they are NOT seagulls, but a rarer seabird called a fulmar, a kind of petrel:

Nesting on the cliff:

Cathedral ruins:

Old graveyard:

Toppled tombstone:

Archway—one of many:

Entrance to St. Leonards, an IB school:

Gothic passageway (with downtown in background):

Typical architecture:

They have orange cats, here, too:

Another old church:

Parting glimpse, around sunset:

George MacDonald Conference

2011-03-30T16:37:00.005-04:00

The University of St Andrews hosted a 2011 conference entitled "George MacDonald Among his Contemporaries." Its School of English, where the conference took place, stands across the street from the castle ruins overlooking the North Sea:

The department comprises two buildings, Castle House:

...and Kennedy Hall (with lovely and scholarly Jenny in front):

View from the Garden Room, where several of the panels took place. Blooming forsythia beyond the wall:

Keynote speakers, with conference poster:

Drinks afterward at Central Bar on Market Street:

Aberdeenshire

2011-03-29T15:29:00.004-04:00

Standing stones at Tomnaverie:

They date back some 4500 years:

Tomnaverie is a "recumbent" stone circle, which means one of the main stones is lying on its side. Archaeologists suggest it may have been used for cremation.

Moss-covered specimen:

They are actually pretty short. I do my best to make them loom:

Apparently, if you stand in the middle of the circle, you can find more mounds in the distance:

On the way home, we pass by Braemar Castle, the ancestral seat of the Farquharson clan:

Unfortunately, the castle is not receiving visitors this afternoon, so we admire from a distance:

Plenty of turrets to please the eye:

Highlands

2011-03-29T15:06:00.002-04:00

Our drive to Cairngorm National Park took us through green valleys:

The word Cairngorm means "blue hill."

Amy climbing up...

...and up...

And then we climbed up some more. Jenny, experiencing a hills-are-alive moment:

Heather and snow:

Some patches of heather, just beginning to flower:

Red moss:

Cladonia fimbriata, a.k.a. trumpet lichen:

Heather burning on a distant mountainside:

Amy and Jenny observe that the hares are running toward the fire. Wrong way, rabbits!

The air is very fresh.

Glencoe, Trossachs, Loch Lomond

2011-03-29T11:35:00.007-04:00

Jenny and Amy, who had come up from Oxford and Surrey for the week, drove us across the Scottish countryside to see the valley of Glencoe, where the Campbells massacred their hosts, the MacDonalds, in 1692. Eerieness hung over the place.

Former volcano?

Jenny and Amy:

Thatched cottage with wringer mangle in Glencoe village:

After Glencoe, we traveled through the Trossachs, where the mountains are very steep and rocky.

You couldn't see very many peaks, they were all shrouded in mist:

This one had a giant cave near the top:

Waterfall:

On the way toward the west coast, we passed Castle Stalker, located on a island in Loch Linnhe, near Appin, Argyle. Stalker comes from Stalcaire, which means "hunter" or "falconer." The keep dates back to the 1320s.

A pause to stretch our legs at Loch Lomond. Its banks are more bleak than bonny this time of year, but still, very impressive.

Twisty knobbly tree trunks:

Along the way, we stopped in at the Caithness glassworks, where (after signing a release form promising not to sue in case of accident) visitors may enter the factory floor and make their own glass paperweight. Here is Callum, glassworker extraordinaire, helping me stick the molten glass knob into the kiln (approximately 1200 degrees). Callum had some scary-looking burns on his arms.

Shaping the glass with tools:

Finished product (its black image on the airport x-ray machine prompted concern among safety officials—had to unwrap it at every stop to assure them it was a paperweight and not a canister of uranium):

Scotland

2011-03-29T10:25:00.005-04:00

In Scotland, sheep replace bicycles, i.e. they are everywhere. Curiously, sheep get to wander about freely, while deer remain carefully penned up. Here are some sheep breakfasting in a mushroom field:

Highland cattle—very big, very hairy:

Where are its eyes?

Although not pictured, pheasants with small brains and large death wishes repeatedly hurled themselves in front of our car at every opportunity. Perhaps they have been reading too much Shelley.

Jenny with the key to our cottage in Yetts o' Muckhart (which means "the gates to Muckhart," a word that basically translates to pig field):

Daffodils, primulas, and crocuses everywhere—very exciting to a Montrealer who won't see flowers until May. All along the roads, the forsythias were in full bloom, too, and the forests were filled with rhododendrons.

View from my bedroom window. The cottage walls were over 30 inches thick:

The view out back, hills obscured by mist:

Scones with Devon cream and Scotch raspberry jam. I made the mistake of reading the nutritional information on the side of the container. So delicious!

Amsterdam

2011-03-27T10:03:00.009-04:00

On the way to her conference in Scotland, Jen stops over in Amsterdam, where she hauls out her map and prepares for a little sightseeing.

It is the morning after the spring time change, and the streets are deserted:

There are bicycles everywhere (these ones are parked on the bridge):

And a friendly orange cat:

Swans in the canal:

Many of the houses look quite crooked—the result, perhaps, of being built so close to water:

Visit to Rembrandt's house (a 17th-century house—now a museum and gallery):

Twisting staircase:

Demonstration of how he made copper-plate etchings:

Where he used to grind his paint:

Rembrandt's box bed:

My little Yotel bed, by comparison. Not as lavish as Rembrandt's, but perfect for a quick nap in the airport:

Cousins

2010-12-24T14:38:00.000-05:00

The day after we arrive in B.C., Auntie Melissa arrives...

...along with Uncle Colin...

...and Jasper's three cousins, Corben, Logan, and Aleah. They are lots of fun.

Hanging out in the living room:

Doing crafts with Granny:

Glenayre

2010-12-24T11:27:00.001-05:00

Glenayre Elementary has the most extensive school grounds I've ever seen for a school of its size. (Apparently the school was originally intended to house double the number of students.) The grounds also command a brilliant view of the mountains, but you can't see them when it's raining. The old stump we used to play on:

Cedar tree that's been there forever—if you climb into it, you can keep dry from the rain:

Where I broke my arm in 1981:

For comparison, where I broke my arm in 1983 (I fractured easily in those days):

Fence where the barky red dog lived:

The path between Dundonald and Wallace Wynd:

A pollarded tree on Garrow Drive:

Burnaby Mountain

2010-12-24T10:52:00.002-05:00

On the north-western side of the Glenayre subdivison, there's a section of Garrow Drive where the houses part and a paved footpath opens onto North Road, an old road the runs along the foot of Burnaby Mountain and that was probably built for logging trucks in the old days. When I was little, North Road wasn't even paved, although it is now. It's always shady on North Road: one side of the road contains driveways and backyards, but the other side is forest, separated from the pavement by a ditch overrun with blackberries.

If you follow North Road to the end, you'll hit the Gulf Oil Refinery property, no access permitted. Apparently Glenayre was once upon a time supposed to be a larger subdivison stretching into this area, but the soil was not suitable for residences, so now it's closed off.

Just before the fence is a narrow stream,

where you'll find one of the best blackberry patches in the city.

Beyond the blackberries is a strip of forest,

all crisscrossed with paths and and tree roots,

and on the other side of the trees is the power line road. It's been newly graded and re-graveled, an improvement over former years:

The mountain looms up all steep and dark on one side:

There are countless little trails that snake around the mountainside, but in recent years they've closed off many of the paths, in an attempt to preserve the forest from being damaged by mountain bikes:

I nevertheless saw a set of footprints clearly in the mud, so the fence hasn't stopped everyone.

Port Moody

2010-12-23T16:32:00.000-05:00

The old house in Port Moody, all dressed up for Christmas. Even the Teotihuacan stone carving gets a Santa hat:

Stone rabbit in memory of Pfeffer, who died in 2005.

He's grown some moss on his cheek since last we visited:

Everything, in fact, seems to be covered with thick green moss. The "little" maple tree (not so little anymore):

The plum tree is nursing some new growth as well—a fern or a little fir?

Jasper goes to visit Santa:

He's a little jet-lagged, and according to Eastern Time, it's naptime...

Granny reads Rudolph, the first of many repetitions:

Midwinter

2010-12-20T18:41:00.002-05:00

Technically, the solstice is still two days away, but it certainly feels dark. I took these pictures along the highway between Ottawa and Montreal, around 3:45 pm. The light does curious things this time of year.

This one reminds me of batik dyeing:

Lac St. Louis (crossing the bridge to the island of Montréal).

Ottawa

2010-12-20T15:44:00.010-05:00

We celebrate an early Christmas in Ottawa with Jasper's Oma and Opa and Auntie Ruth and Uncle Thomas.

Jasper shows Opa his camera:

A blur of excitement:

Young and old await their dinner:

Toasting the season:

The tree reaches the ceiling:

Unfortunately, midway through present opening, Tasha the German Shepherd caught her tail on the tree...and down it came. Jasper and John get out the vacuum cleaner to clean up fallen needles:

New train components, hurray!

Brushing teeth on the same counter John used to sit on:

The morning after, we open our stockings. S. Claus is very good to all:

John reading a new cookbook:

Tired kid:

Commodore's Ball

2010-12-12T23:47:00.002-05:00

Hercules is all lit up for The Royal Saint Lawrence Yacht Club's annual Commodore's Ball.

I like this silver lighthouse trophy:

John spots C.W. Molson, Commodore from 1922-23:

Jen points out a fine pair of muttonchop whiskers:

Anna and Duncan:

Duncan telling the story of getting nearly swept out to sea in his 18' dory in Halifax harbour:

The blue dress gets its outing:

John, Jen, Duncan, Anna, Jenn+ and Jason:

Miltonmas

2010-12-11T23:12:00.006-05:00

This year Milton turns 402, and Maggie and Brian celebrate their 25th Miltonmas in Mile End. Maggie, sparkling in beaded black satin, greets guests:

Jasper playing cars on the living room rug:

Students on the couch, facing the vampire serving dish. Rachel (second from left), made Jasper his first Shirley Temple, complete with candied cherry (it was a hit):

Jasper descending into a sea of shoes. The flood of soles increased as the evening continued:

Guests spilling out into the hall:

John scanning the room for Jasper, who disappeared at least twice in the crowd:

Mountain of coats:

Carols and candlelight:

Not that the Sky Needs Encouragement...

2010-12-10T17:58:00.004-05:00

But paper snowflakes look pretty all the same.

A paper tube reindeer. The construction paper antlers are tracings of Jasper's hands:

Fiat Nix

2010-12-08T17:41:00.008-05:00

Snow arrives, right on schedule. The cat makes observations:

It doesn't show signs of stopping:

But eventually it does.

Layers on the windowledge:

John shoveling out the garage door:

Jasper also shovels:

Hooded:

Getting right in there:

Tasting:

Warming up:

Xmas Prep

2010-12-01T21:37:00.008-05:00

Cookie baking and tree-trimming. Marie and Jasper mix the dough:

Shaping them into birds' nest. "One birdie for each nest"—Jasper loved this part:

Our itty bitty tabletop tree, overdressed but enthusiastic:

Sabina's Birthday

2010-11-30T20:22:00.000-05:00

November goes out with a bang, thanks to Sabina's birthday party. She is a great big three-year-old now.

Luke, Lara, and Molly:

Jack watches Jonathan inflate balloons:

Ack, Sabina—where did your arms go?

Noisemakers:

Annike, Lucy, and Bea:

Balloons looking out the window:

Playing with the train:

Pizza party:

Babies Luke and Lucia:

Cake?

Yes, cake!

Jasper and Lucy making faces:

Good times:

November Scenes

2010-11-30T14:19:00.018-05:00

Some snapshots from the month. Guy and Jasper:

Lighting fires:

Jeanne-Mance Park commuters:

Hipster dropping:

Poison berries on Villeneuve:

Twisty stairs:

Morning sunbeams on St. Dominique:

Someone thought this tree needed help:

Little house in the alley off Esplanade:

First snowfall:

Saturday 8am:

Warming up on Mummy's lap:

Trivia

2010-11-23T23:04:00.004-05:00

Trivia night at the Old Orchard with Polymath Pauline (as Medrie called her recently):

Jasper wants to know why he can't come:

He sends Pauline a birthday card in his place—"a flower next to a volcano":

Bridesmaid Revisited

2010-11-21T19:21:00.015-05:00

A hankering for a new dress inspired me to refashion an old bridesmaid gown into a party dress. Here it is doing its bridesmaid thing at Tara and Jon's 2004 wedding:

Periwinkle shantung fabric:

The silk is wonderful and blue is lovely, but I figured I'd get more use with a darker colour. Enter navy blue drugstore fabric dye:

An hour of soaking:

I was hoping to turn it midnight blue, but did not add enough dye. The resulting colour is nevertheless a charming shade of sapphire:

Hanging to dry:

One of the problems with the original gown was that the armholes were too big, and there wasn't quite enough breadth across the front. The advantage of overlarge armholes, however, is that it allows room for sleeves, so I shortened the skirt about 15 inches, and used the extra fabric to make a couple sleeves:

This was my first attempt at sleeves, which I sewed on by hand. I didn't have a pattern, but they seemed to work, although I think they're too long here:

The remaining fabric went into an asymmetric rolled collar experiment:

Further shortening of the sleeves, plus hemming. It could still use a proper pressing, and I'm still not sure about the sleeves.

Update: couldn't warm up to sleeves, so dress returns to sleeveless state:

Now the dress needs somewhere to go...

November 12

2010-11-12T22:09:00.002-05:00

...the camera thief strikes again.

Little red socks:

Little zippered hoodie:

Mummy's laptop:

Preserves

2010-11-11T13:44:00.002-05:00

This year the canning gods seem to have had it in for me: nothing would set, and everything had to be recooked before it gelled. It took seven tries and countless packages of pectin to yield fifteen jars, which included ten jars of concord grape jelly (from the grapes we grew), and five of spiced apple spread (from the apples we picked).

Sterilized jars:

Apples cooking with raisins and spices:

Finished product (spiced apple on left, concord grape on right):

Sunbeam

2010-11-07T16:02:00.008-05:00

Jasper, post-raking, wearing the beautiful sweater his Oma knit. I think he grew this week. He certainly looks older than ever.

Sunbeam:

Bumped head:

Knothole:

Blue eyes:

Turning on the charm:

Mischief in his eyes...

Yard Work

2010-11-07T15:55:00.006-05:00

Time to clean up the yard:

Pumpkin with mouth full of beans:

Last hollyhock:

Green man:

Hard at work, with a little help from the cat:

Guy has a few plans of his own...

Caught! Another attempt at clandestine paper sculpture:

Goatsbeard:

Grapes:

Parsley seeds:

Hallowe'en

2010-10-31T23:34:00.006-04:00

It's that time of year again....Here's Jasper making his fiercest "angry pumpkin" face:

Jasper's friend Xavier turns four just in time for Hallowe'en festivities. We do ourselves up safari style for his costume birthday party.

Xavier is a dragon:

Xavier's mom Saint Jessica is a knight. We love her silver lame chain mail.

Jasper arrives at the party and immediately removes his costume:

Legolas, Superman, and a princess get in on the action:

Cecilia as alligator:

Lucia as Pebbles:

Baby Sebastian (on the right) is a shark:

Pirate Angie and Leif the giraffe:

Jeff the pharoah:

Angie and Susana:

Hang ten, Linus:

Hippie James:

Mrs. Crow:

Spooky neighbourhood streets:

La Cantine

2010-10-30T14:34:00.006-04:00

Ann and Chris drive in from Ottawa for a visit. While waiting for our brunch reservation at Cantine, we drop by the park, where the leaves have turned everything chartreuse and gold:

The playground is under construction, but that doesn't stop Jasper.

Pretty big drop:

Just as I am about to lose circulation in my fingers and toes, our table opens up in Cantine, hurray! Caramelized pears and goat cheese on fresh pistachio bread, with a side of yogurt-crême brulée:

Worth the wait:

Apples

2010-10-23T16:01:00.030-04:00

We drive out to Mont St. Grégoire for apple-picking. After a hearty breakfast of crêpes aux pommes, a tractor takes us out to the field. Jasper sits up front to observe the tractor better.

Jasper's friend Neela and her mom, Elham.

Neela and her dad Shahin:

The orchard, with Mont St. Gregoire in the background.

A split-rail fence borders the road:

Neela and Jasper head right in.

John shows Jasper how to twist them off the branch. We pick several dozen Empires.

Jasper and Neela put them in his hat:

Glorious sunshine:

Some rock climbing:

Waiting for the tractor to take us back:

Jasper and Neela on the playground swing:

Chickens:

Turkey:

Bunnies:

Little goats:

A big old billy goat, with long twisty horns. He did not like to have his horns touched, and would shake his head and stamp his feet.

Ellie and Tasha visit the goat.

Devilish horizontal pupils:

Apple back home in our kitchen:

A

Fishing

2010-10-17T14:01:00.002-04:00

Dave has taken up fly-fishing. Here he is, casting his line:

Glassy-smooth waters:

Video footage of him practicing his casting:

On the Lake

2010-10-13T13:46:00.000-04:00

Last boat ride of the season. Ruth, casting off:

Coaxing Holly aboard:

Ruth and Thomas brought their pontoon boat over from Ottawa. It has plenty of room for everyone, plus a table for serving food and beverages:

Opa drives:

David and Jasper:

Jen and Ruth:

We couldn't imagine a brighter Thanksgiving—warm temperatures, and plenty of sun:

On the way to Rock Dunder:

The waterside cave that John used to explore in his tin motorboat when he was a kid:

Fall colours:

Thanksgiving Dinner

2010-10-12T16:53:00.013-04:00

John in the workshop:

Oma and the little house:

David, just in from Vancouver and recovering from jet-lag:

Bubbles on the porch:

Jennifer, pleased with her treasure; Dave less pleased:

John barbequeing salmon:

Anita and John:

Anita's bird (a sixteen-pounder!):

Ruth and Thomas preparing the meal:

sunset:

Between courses:

Jasper, waiting:

Still waiting:

Here it comes:

Make a wish!

Dogs and People

2010-10-12T16:35:00.003-04:00

Tasha and Holly manage to stay still for a split second to have their picture taken, then they zoom off again.

Ruth and Thomas are better at posing for the camera.

October Woods

2010-10-12T16:11:00.013-04:00

Thanksgiving weekend brought sunny skies and crisp leaves. The trees were unbelievably bright this year; I don't think I've ever seen them such a fiery orange:

Morning walk in the forest:

Bovine burial ground uncovered. Now we know why the vultures were always circling over this particular patch of trees (not to mention where the dogs were running off to).

Skull trio:

Toadstools:

Fungus:

Birdhouse:

Glimpse of the lake:

About Town

2010-10-07T17:13:00.005-04:00

The day is dull and full of rain, so we head underground for the afternoon. Our petal, in a station of the metro:

The glass elevator in Place Montréal Trust:

Sculpture in Old Montreal:

Dinner on rue St. Jean:

Sneaky

2010-10-07T16:37:00.004-04:00

Small boys who wish to poke around their mother's study and experiment with her electronics while she is taking a shower should perhaps consider not leaving photographic evidence of their activities. The following images appeared on my camera:

Oh no, here she comes!

Art

2010-10-04T20:13:00.004-04:00

Jasper likes to draw. Here's a volcano (one of several):

A fish exhibition:

A scarecrow:

A housing development:

Jennifer has been drawing, too:

Fall clothes

2010-10-02T16:07:00.002-04:00

Nothing much new here, but even the same old scarves and tights feel novel after a summer of bare legs. The nasturtiums are still going strong, but they haven't many weeks left.

Sarah

2010-09-26T19:11:00.011-04:00

This is Jasper's friend Sarah. She just turned three.

John and Jasper on their way to Sarah's birthday party:

Sarah's parents, Tine and James, have a new house. It is gorgeous, and full of people:

Jasper and John discuss the vinyl collection:

Stella and Victor playing cards:

Liam:

Sabina and Molly:

Lucy:

Maeve, Tine and Cassie:

Jasper and the airplane:

Tine and James getting the cake ready:

Assembling to sing:

Sarah cuts the cake:

Waiting for their slice:

Kitchen crowd:

Really cool light shades that Tine and James made out of glass jars:

Kid table (Stella, Jasper, Xavier, and Lucy):

Mmm, cake:

Romados

2010-09-22T14:11:00.011-04:00

Best neighbourhood take-out:

Romados's new, expanded premises—5pm line-up still stretches to the door.

Pastries:

Grill cook:

Sandwich artisan:

des coeurs:

Kiss the cook:

My sanduíche de frango:

Etsy Shop

2010-09-20T12:37:00.004-04:00

I've started an Etsy shop to sell drawings, prints, and greeting cards online. Doors are open and visitors are welcome! If it goes well, I may expand the line of designs available. (Pictured above is last year's Steampunk Santa design).

Fugu

2010-09-18T18:28:00.001-04:00

This is Fugu:

Fugu is a thirty-foot Beneteau that belongs to our friends Jenn and Jason. Hi, Jason!

Jason has been doing a ton of work to fix Fugu up—she's about thirty years old or so. Here's the reconstructed cabin ceiling, of which Jason is justly proud:

John seems quite inspired by Jason's renovations:

We set off (without Jenn, unfortunately—next time, Jenn!):

Jason at the tiller:

Jasper with binoculars:

There's a lot less scampering about the deck than on John's boat Manatee—Fugu has a roller-furler, which means you can unfurl Fugu's jib right from the cockpit. John thinks the cockpit controls are pretty cool:

A glorious end-of-summer afternoon. Perfectly smooth greeny-blue water:

Relaxed cruisers:

Jen's main job is to enjoy the breeze and make sure Jasper doesn't get his hand caught in any winches.

Jason's digital navigation system:

Backward binoculars:

John tries to convince Jasper that he should nap in the V-birth:

Jasper demurs:

He is a tired kid, however...

Sleep wins:

Home again.

Grape Harvest

2010-09-16T10:40:00.005-04:00

Backyard concords ripe for picking:

Feline assistance:

"Cutin," or bloom—the waxy coating that protects the fruit:

Stem removal:

Straining the processed and cooked fruit to make juice:

Next step....canning! Stay tuned.

Pesto

2010-09-08T19:43:00.003-04:00

Basil plants:

Child labor:

Fini:

Variation: mint pesto.

Film Review: Inception

2010-09-02T16:56:00.013-04:00

I liked a bunch of things about Christopher Nolan’s 2010 film Inception. First of all, it manages to rise above the action-movie genre: Nolan respects his audience’s intelligence, yet still provides all the bullets and bombs a summer blockbuster requires. I usually drag my feet to action flicks, but Inception’s tale of a not-too-distant future, in which technology enables spies to infiltrate people’s dreams, offers a plot sufficiently complex and allegorical to keep lit. majors analyzing it for years to come—all the while avoiding, for the most part, falling into Matrixian pretentiousness.

The understated performances help. Nolan grounds his story in modern spec-fic, but infuses the script with all the decorousness of a Victorian gentlemen’s adventure story, a genre in which well-mannered, nattily-dressed men work together to face down opponents of the Empire. In Inception, explosions and action abound, but posturing and profanity are mercifully absent. No one loses his head or shirt or goes on a Schwarzeneggeresque rampage. Indeed, there’s nary a bulging bicep to be seen among Inception’s gentlemen spies, whose pressed oxford cloth and tidy jackets keep everything under modest wraps. Our corporate thieves, led by Leo DiCaprio’s Dom Cobb and featuring the talents of Joseph Gordon-Levitt (as pointman Arthur), Tom Hardy (Eames the forger), Ken Wantanabe (the money guy) and Dileep Rao (chemist Yousuf), together with their kidnapped target, wealthy heir Robert Fischer (Cillian Murphy), maintain decorum throughout, speaking to one another with a politeness and restraint that seem almost quaint in a genre better known for brawn than brain.

It isn’t all about men, fortunately. Enter Ellen Page as Ariadne, a young architect whose name suggests the mazes she designs. Ariadne is whip-smart, competent, and respected by male peers for her professional abilities. She also gets to keep her shirt on. Note to Hollywood producers: we need more Ariadnes in mainstream cinema. Please put them in. Annoyingly, however, Nolan sticks Ariadne with the job of emotional caretaking: even though they’ve only just met, she instantly becomes Leo DiCaprio’s armchair psychoanalyst, offering insight about his guilty conscience—something so spectacularly obvious that surely Cobb’s sensible colleague Arthur or even oily Eames could have pointed out years ago. Ariadne may design mazes, but her greater role, the film hammers home, is to assist the male hero in escaping the (in this case psychological) labyrinth.

Also annoying: there’s only one Strong Female Character. Only one female character, period. Bechdel Test? FAIL. Cobb’s late wife Mal makes appearances, it is true, and she is female; however, she does not exist as a person, only as a “shade” in Cobb’s memory. As my smart friend Jenny pointed out, the dream reconstruction of Mal’s hotel-ledge suicide keeps hinting that Cobb is looking at a reflection of himself. Even Cobb admits he cannot construct “all her perfection and imperfection,” and (in case you didn’t figure it out from her name), the resulting projection is bad news, as her mad, murderous, pistol-wielding presence keeps interfering with Leo DiCaprio’s very important top-secret espionage missions. She’s nicely played by Marion Cotillard, but still. I do not mean to complain about Inception’s male characters (they’re welcome to infiltrate my dreams anytime), but Nolan, COME ON. Couldn’t you have made at least one of them a woman?

So, aside from noted exception, this is a gentlemen’s adventure. But not just any gentleman’s adventure—a WHITE gentlemen’s adventure. Saito the Japanese businessman and Yousuf the Mombasan chemist offer a nod to diversity, but it’s a nod that quickly glazes over into indifference as Nolan’s token p.o.c.’s slip into racial stereotypes. Saito spends two-thirds of the show sidelined with an injury, so he doesn’t have much in the way of lines, and Yousuf is relegated to Our Heroes’ druggist and driver—that is, when he isn’t busy running his underground opium den. Those crazy Orientals! Wait, where is Mombasa anyway? Does it matter?

That said, as white man inner quest narratives go, this is still a pretty good one. The plot to mend the rift between unhappy corporate heir Robert Fischer (Murphy) and his dying father (Pete Postlethwaite) resounds with echoes of the wounded Fisher King (iterations of which feature a father-son duo), only in this case Fischer’s injury is psychic, and the wasteland to be rejuvenated is Cobb’s life, rendered barren of dreams and bereft of children. Cobb’s preoccupation with his dream world recalls the heroes of Romantic poetry, whose obsession with visionary experience often leads to nightmarish consequences. Cobb’s case is special, of course—they’re always special, these Romantic questors—but Cobb’s specialness is so! much! more! special! than everyone else’s. His thorns of life are just that much more prickly, I guess. I had a hard time believing that no one else on the Dream Team had boggarts from the past waiting to pop out at inconvenient moments to undermine their manly mission. (I mean, we already met Eames the forger when he played Heathcliff for the BBC a couple years back, plus the actor used to do crack, so we know he must be repressing something.)

As anyone who’s read her nineteenth-century poets knows, the trouble with loitering too long among nightingales and damsels with dulcimers is that you risk getting stuck in your dream-state. It’s the old problem of solipsism, and this is Dom Cobb’s problem, too: he’s adrift, unmoored from time and space, and has lost track of whether he’s awake or asleep. You will too, when you see the movie, because that’s how Nolan’s worked it, keeping the signposts just murky enough that you’re never quite sure where the border between dream and reality lies. You can argue about wedding rings and spinning tops and shoes colors forever, but that’s not really the point: the point is that when you’re stuck in your head, you lose perspective, and keep going around in circles like Arthur and Ariadne on the perpetual staircase, or like poor old Cobb, replaying his past in an endless loop. Inception delivers the conservative message that having less imagination might actually make you a stronger person, or at least one more likely to survive. As Eames says of Arthur: “he’s the best, but he has no imagination.” Though Arthur is the only one in the film who gets to kiss the girl. For purely practical reasons, of course. Yeah, um-hum.

The film’s architectural underpinnings reinforce the interiorized nature of the quest. Ariadne’s dreamscape sets emphasize the problem of solipsism, as she bends city streets so that the sky disappears and the world becomes a shadowy architectural universe, and makes mirrors face one another so that all you see are ten thousand Leo DiCaprios fading into the distance. The characters—Cobb, Arthur, Eames—are all named after architects. Even the shady corporation they work for, Kobol, hints at the old Germanic word for room, not to mention the kobolds or goblins that haunt interior spaces. Cobb’s name further suggests cob, the ancient clay-and-earth construction material. Dom Cobb is, in his constructed visionary world, such stuff as dreams are made upon—though whether he’s mastered his material, or his material’s mastered him, remains a question.

After the show was over, I made my way home through one of real-life architect Henry N. Cobb’s buildings, Place Ville Marie. A modernist office complex built in 1962, its cruciform tower rises up forty-seven stories to a rotating rooftop beacon, the light of which you can see from twenty miles off. It’s also the entrance to the underground city, a series of tunnels and passageways that snakes below the downtown streets for miles, connecting shops and offices and cinemas to the train and subways. I still get lost down there, looking for the métro. If you don’t know what you’re doing, it’s easy to take a wrong turn, and suddenly find the mall glitz and vendors carts have disappeared, and you’re in a windowless, dead-end tunnel—or a dank concrete stairwell with doors chained shut at the top—or, if you’re lucky, the door opens, and you find yourself back on the city street, all turned around from the direction you thought you were headed, but nevertheless reassured.

Sunday Sail

2010-08-29T18:48:00.005-04:00

Perfect afternoon for an afternoon cruise. This time, seven-year-old crew members Robyn and Margo join us:

John, Ilke, and Robyn:

Hans and Jen:

Eric and Hans:

Margo and Lisa:

Ilke and Robyn:

Brisk breeze and bright sun:

Today's sun makes us for our very wet trip two months ago:

Hans, John, Ilke, and Lisa in the cockpit:

Ilke studies the chart while the girls get ready to swim:

Eric dives in:

Jen, Lisa, and Robyn in Lac St. Louis (where the Saint Laurent broadens out):

Margo and John:

Sea creature:

Drying off:

Lisa relaxing on deck:

Ilke in the bow:

Jen:

Picnic on deck:

Margo:

Robyn (also, the new solar-powered FAN!—very much needed to reduce in-cabin moisture):

Cleat and coil:

Giant tree trunk threatens to devour land lubbers:

Dry land has its charms:

Elissa and Chris

2010-08-29T14:47:00.001-04:00

Our friends Elissa and Chris drive up from New York to spend the weekend in town. Jasper shows them his favorite park (the upside-down version):

...and Elissa shows Jasper her camera:

Triangle roof! A visual demonstration:

Outremont

2010-08-23T14:02:00.008-04:00

There's a park in Outremont we like to go to—it's not particularly big, but the grass is long and soft and 100% weed-free, how I don't know, it's that Outremont magic that we're missing in the Plateau. At sunset, the light turns everything apricot-golden. For some reason Jasper insisted on taking his shirt off; I think it was to feel the tickly grass. And even though it's getting cooler in the evenings, I let him, because summer is almost over and because he is so smooth and delicious and is only going to be this little once.

Counting:

Basking:

The cheerfullest kid I know:

Mile End

2010-08-16T15:08:00.001-04:00

The laundromat on Avenue du Parc—fascinating for Jasper:

Not quite so fascinating for his mother:

Nearby public library, where we wait for the cycle to finish. It's in an old church.

Hôtel-de-Ville Park

2010-08-16T14:29:00.008-04:00

Round and round he goes:

Scaling the bench...

...and the wall:

Swings!

Knocking on the Portuguese signs:

Nothing in his pockets:

But a whole lot of charm:

Cat Friends

2010-08-16T13:50:00.003-04:00

Some neighbourhood cat friends:

...and Guy's nemesis, lurking under our picnic table. Territorial disputes continue.

Dinner Time

2010-08-16T11:51:00.003-04:00

Cat wants in:

Cat gets stuck:

Cat is embarrassed.

Mint

2010-08-13T20:26:00.004-04:00

Jessica, Sebastian, and Xavier join us for a Friday afternoon mint massacre. Mojitos for the mamas:

...and mint lemonade for the boys:

Peaches and Ice Cream

2010-08-11T14:19:00.002-04:00

Peaches + ice cream + gingersnap cookies = a big hit. Jasper expressed much gratitude: "Oh, THANK YOU, Mommy! This is DELICIOUS!" August 11st was my grandfather R.F. Koopman Sr. (1907-1998)'s birthday. This was one of his favorite desserts.

Rainbows

2010-08-07T14:03:00.000-04:00

John and Jasper were busy swimming when the rain started:

Double bow in the sky:

Rainbows are difficult to photograph—there must be a trick, but it isn't in my repertoire, so I had to make do:

Lakeshore

2010-08-06T20:42:00.003-04:00

Back to the lake. Sometimes the best holidays are the least exciting ones.

The object: to move as little as possible:

Ahh.

Jasper: "this feels counterintuitive, mum."

He likes to JUMP!

John's tin boat

Kingston

2010-08-05T21:18:00.001-04:00

Day trip to Kingston. We stop at the Pilot House for fish and chips.

Beer for some...

...Beermat tents for others.

Afterward, we stroll around the Murney Tower, a martello tower built in 1846 on the shore of Lake Ontario. Once it defended the city; now it houses a museum.

Watching the front roll in over the lake. Incredible humidity; you could feel the electricity in the air.

The Floating Playpen

2010-08-04T07:57:00.004-04:00

A little cottage reading.

"The whole family will enjoy bathing if the youngsters can be towed to deeper water in this floating playpen" (Popular Mechanics Illustrated Home Handyman Encyclopedia & Guide. Vol. 2. New York: Little and Ives, 1961. 202).

What a great way to cool off after a couple rounds of lawn darts. Plans below; click to enlarge.

It even "comes apart merely by removing the pins" for easier car transport. Those popular mechanics think of everything.

Grandparents

2010-08-03T19:58:00.000-04:00

Jasper wakes up from his nap to discover that Oma and Opa have arrived. Hurrah! He is so cute and fuzzy when he wakes up.

Jasper's father is pretty cute himself:

Chatting with Oma:

Time to get down to business.

Clothes on: time to play with the top:

Flora and Fauna

2010-08-02T23:48:00.001-04:00

Chipmunk hole:

Berries:

Orchard:

Butterflies:

Garter snake and garden hose:

Dreaded Western Pine Cone Wildebeest:

...and its young:

Dehorned, however, they will do dishes:

...and dead-head geraniums.

Waterfront

2010-08-02T21:35:00.005-04:00

Bright and early the next day, we all rush back to the lakeside. Thomas paddles his kayak:

...while Ruth and Jasper cheer from the dock:

The answer to zebra mussels? Water shoes!

Jen wishes she'd had them years ago:

Even Jasper has tiny blue ones:

We swim swim swim at least four times times before dinner:

...which uses up all the towels:

Anxious dogs, worrying about the people:

Relax, dogs! The people are O.K.

Thomas brings back water lilies:

Dragonflies: