The Wave

A plague of roofers has descended here at 123. It's not so much that the plague was unexpected, but the timing of it most certainly was. Free stress. Not like I haven't had enough of that this week!

However, I did manage to scoot out to the exhibition of Renoir's landscapes (1865-1883) with my friend Lise this morning. (My neighbours returned home just in time to deal with the plague for a few hours. It's my turn now.)

My favorite painting in the exhibition was actually the seascape pictured above (The Wave, 1879, Art Institute of Chicago). Apropos for Off the Deep End, I guess! A decade ago The National Gallery of Canada also hosted an exhibition of Renoir portraiture. Those of us who went then were treated to his open air scenes as well as formal portraiture. I bring this up because at the end of the show, I was standing in front of the painting of San Marco Square with an older couple (who turned out to be brother and sister) and we began discussing it.

She asked me what I thought of the show, and I explained that while I had enjoyed it tremendously, I found it a little dour for Renoir, but that it contrasted well with the exhibit I'd attended ten years earlier.

It turned out that she is an art restorer, and so had wonderful opinions to offer not just about the totality of the show, but also about the quality of some of the glazes! Sometimes chance conversations can be delightful and rewarding.

The exhibition runs until September 9.

Oh, and by the way, Lise and I split up during quick visit to the National Gallery Bookstore. When I met her afterwards, she looked at my bag and said, "We bought the same book!"

Thursday Miscellany

Some days, the blogosphere offers up tidbits that are completely captivating. Iron Benny and Nytro have been posting about their European vacation. I followed this "Amsterdam bicycles" link from Simon Whitfield's blog, and at first I thought, "Oh, I must email this to a few people!" That quickly changed to, "Really, I should just post it, too." It's truly worth the time it takes to go through it.

In other notes, I had a wonderful hot and humid morning yesterday with my dear friend Rachel and her son Patrick who are in town this week from Toronto. We did errands, went out for lunch, and Patrick had his first experience with a splash pad! (I hope they don't mind a moment or two of internet fame, because I thought this picture was just delightful.)



The Boarder stayed till 8:00 last night, but hasn't shown himself yet today. I did manage to get antibiotic ointment on the big wound I found on his elbow. I snuck up on him when he was sleeping! I think he ate enough yesterday to hold him for a couple of days.

Now, here's a question. Did anyone ever do something so special for you that you were unsure how to react? Not just unsure of what to say, but actually physically unsure. To burst into tears or have your stomach do flip flops? Develop a slight case of the shakes or a headache just trying to understand it? A little bit of all that or maybe something different entirely?

An Impressive Feat ...

In the news yesterday, at fourteen, Natalie Lambert became the youngest person to swim across Lake Ontario. From Sackett's Harbor, NY to Kingston, ON, the teenager finished the 52 kilometre distance in under 24 hours. But not only did she swim her way into the record books, she did it hoping to raise $52,000 to support Y Knot programs for youth with disabilities at her Y. Congratulations Natalie! (For more background information or to make a donation, follow this link.)

On the home front, The Boarder did not turn up yesterday, but was waiting in "his chair" on the deck for me to rise this morning. My original theory when this happened was that he was at someone else's place luxuriating in comfort, eating their food. I may have to rethink this, though. It may be that he is in hiding after a Strenuous Disagreement. He seems to have a nasty scab under his chin this morning, but as is often his habit first thing, he demolished his breakfast (an extra quarter tin, too), and headed up to sleep with not so much as thank you! Or a chance for me to examine any war wounds he may have incurred.

More Bobs & Bits ...

If you were to look at my workout log these days, you might think, "Wow! That gal likes working out with pulleys!" Not so. Really, I am more or less ambivalent about pulleys. The fact is, I've been Allergy Girl the past while, so have been willing to forfeit fun in the pool for not leaving the house.

Hopefully today will be filled with pre-trip errands, so I'll be right ready in case the roofers actually do come on Tuesday. My breath is not being held. Although at least now I have a feeling it will get done before the cool days ahead.

The small groups of geese overhead have been gaining in numbers over the last few days. Families are starting to band together, and the young ones are getting a bit more formation flying experience. They're not ready to hit the flyways yet, but preparations are clearly underway.

In the garden, late summer has arrived, as some inhabitants are following the urge to ensure that future generations can enjoy it. (Note that there's someone else waiting in the wings just above this couple.) If you click you may find I'm getting this zoom function under control!

IM KY & Puppies ...

Big shout-out to all the racers who took part in the inaugural Ironman Kentucky in Louisville yesterday. Especially:

IronPol: 13:12.50. Perforated ear drum and all! Awesome. What more can I say?

Sweet Baboo: 15:35.30. Your haiku gives us a hint as to what you prevailed over. You are truly a Clyde to be reckoned with.

Dying Water Buffalo: 16:15.08. Iron Bad Ass!!! You put it out there, and rocked! Woo hoo!

GeekGirl: 17:18.38. Triumphant! Where did she find it in her to pick up the pace for that last 2.6 miles? And she already has the delightfully frank installment of her race report up.

We'll look forward to the rest of the race reports with breath a little less bated than when dealing with Ironman Live. You are all absolutely inspirational. Special thanks to Tri-Daddy for commandeering IronPol's blog, and to the Dread Pirate for keeping us informed.

As I have no truly appropriate visual for this post, I bring you another puppy picture. Although I think they may have been as attentive watching their people on the climbing structure as I was to IronMan Live. Go ahead and click. On yesterday's pictures, too.

Puppy Power!

I almost took Coach Duane's advice today.

After all, he said we should do things other than swim. Although he definitely suggested power walking, I took a more leisurely approach. The Rotor family (plus one) came calling, and we went for a walk with their 4 month old Portugese water dog puppies Hawkeye and Hazel. Those aren't my legs. They are legs much younger than mine! We took the route I used to do with Praline, and then Xue. Always turn right out of the house, so the dog is trained never to walk towards Preston Street.

Then I took them on an outdoor tour of the Plant recreation facilities. We peered in at the pool. We walked past the splash pad. But the climbing structures called out to some of us! Then we went and got gelatos. And came back again, of course.

Weekend Miscellany ...

Spokane Al occasionally lets us know what he’s reading, so the thought came to me I might do the same. Possibly because last night I read a book set in Spokane. I’ve been in books for young adults mode of late, starting of course with the final installment of Harry Potter.

Then it was on to books with a tri or swimming bent: In Lane Three Alex Archer (Tessa Duder), Ironman, Stotan, Staying Fat for Sarah Byrnes and Whale Talk all by award winning author and Chris Crutcher. His novels use a backdrop of athletics to examine difficult subjects. Abuse, alienation, bullying, the nature of family, friendships and mentors are important ingredients; sport and high school are the characters’ crucibles. I found Staying Fat for Sarah Byrnes to be the most successful and satisfying of them all. Whale Talk came very close, but its conclusion took me two steps too far — too close to the soap operatic for the rest of the novel. (Not that I am averse to daytime drama, I just prefer it where it belongs.) I would caution that although these books are for young adults, there are some (especially on the younger end of the spectrum) for whom the subject matter may be too frank and frightening. Others will find that they are swept into something gripping and real, but hopefully removed from their own personal reality.

Also on the go, but being parsed into manageable chunks are: Eisner’s For Love of Insects, Haunts of the Black Masseur: The Swimmer as Hero by Charles Sprawson, and one other — an advance copy of Oliver Sacks' Musicophilia (for which Jenny has posted a wonderful review and which is available for advance order here). Men of science, Sacks and Eisner pursue their specialities with a sensitivity and quest for knowledge that is captivating. Men of letters, they communicate their curiosity in delightful story telling. I would highly recommend both.

Since Dr. Eisner doesn't confine himself to insects, neither shall I. This funnel weaving grass spider (Agelenopsis sp.) lives under the yellow bleeding heart on the deck, but usually tears off for the secure spot under its pot when it sees (or feels) me coming. But today, after the rain, it let me sneak up just a bit ... if you click and enlarge the image you can even see the spinnerets through a sheet of its webbing!

Bits and Bobs ...

Despite the water falling from the sky, The Boarder turned up this morning, demolished a tin and a half of "chicken", and then had some brushing. We have progressed from him allowing me to touch him, then brushing with an old hairbrush, to actually enjoying the process with the cat brush that was initially rejected outright.

This kind of weather is ideal for Making of Things Days. Yesterday was muffins and a necklace. I wonder sometimes if I am an extraordinarily slow wireworker, as this little bauble took 3 hours of wire wrapping. Pearls, swarovski crystals, gold filled wire and toggle clasp. Perhaps I'll only tackle earrings today ...

Thus far I've managed to get in a half hour of pulleys 3 days a week, and as one would expect, my overall mileage has dropped slightly. After the initial sluggishness in the pool brought on by going back to dryland training, things have evened out. Interestingly, I started back to the pulleys on August 14th. The very next day, Coach Duane posted this on the Technosport web site:

My expectation for many of you while the pool is shutdown is to do some cross training...power walking, cycling, other fun activities and very limited swimming so you are a little anxious Sept 12 to get back to swimming full tilt.

I'm not sure pulleys qualify as "fun", but it's not like I'm going to do any real walking until I have a nice lifted shoe to wander around in. I did (thanks to KD and the Shoe Relay Team) receive my second lifted Teva "flip flop" this week, so I'm now breaking that one in.

Last night I shared a lane with our star lifeguard, who has outstanding results in terms of her pool lifeguarding competitions. She's off to Surf Nationals in Halifax today, where she expects to have fun more than anything else. Enjoy yourself A!

The workout I set for myself after a 500 free warm-up was: 5 x 100 free relaxed on 1:45, 4 x 100 IM on 2:00, 6 x 50 kick (dolphin up, alternating whip & flutter back), 200 drills, 4 x 25 fly on :45, 2 x 50 breast long and easy. An item I took note of was that while my dolphin kick is getting stronger, and my whip kick is solid, my flutter kick is significantly slower. Something to work on!

P.S. As usual, the image is clickable, so you too can see the links that needed a little tweak ...

The Flyways Await ...

The geese are practicing.

Not an ominous sign, but a sure and certain one. This past week or so small groups of geese have been overhead – flying over our houses from the river to the Farm – in formation, honking almost incessantly as they go. Oh, they do this route all summer long. But in summer they are not talking to each other like that, nor are they in the familiar, but small, shape of a V.

It is time for the young ones to begin to understand what it takes; to prepare for their truest rite of passage. Almost every one of them will first join their extended families, then more distant relations, and move onto the flyways, putting in distances of up to 1000 kilometres a day (perhaps more) at speeds of up to 90 kilometers an hour. Youngsters and elders alike, as these birds can live a quarter of a century in the wild, from eleven tribes of Canada geese, will heed the change of seasons as their ancestors have.

Their calls stir us for reasons we can’t describe, speaking to a part of us perhaps beyond words. And we look up, and watch part of the process unfold, as we have since we first heard their calls fill the air.

Film Bit ...

Last night the Three Movieteers ventured out to see Stardust. The film adaptation of Neil Gaiman's story did not disappoint. The special effects were indeed magical and the characterizations were wonderful, too. Ian McKellen's narration sets the tone and whisks you off to the land on the other side of the wall where there are witches, ghosts, quests, stars, and possibly best of all, flying pirates! This is a delightful fairy tale for grown-ups.

We all left the theatre in excellent humour, having laughed out loud more times than I might have guessed. I'd see it again.

The Boarder's Complaint ...

These past few days the Boarder has had his trials and tribulations. My neighbour cat Nathan, in a fit of pique (I think that the renovations at his abode had resumed) even chased him off the property yesterday morning. Luckily I saw the shenanigans and invited Onyx in the front door. I was then subjected to Nathan's Moral Outrage and Catty Comments voiced through the sliding patio doors at the other end of the house.

The Boarder has been returning to Base Camp much more often. His new Personal Record is six visits in a 24 hour period. He is not disturbed in the slightest if I should feel the need to leave him in charge of 123 while I go out and look after People Things.

He was however, chagrined (to say the very least) at the Substandard Quality of Food made available for his consumption at Base Camp this past weekend. The distinct lack of feline foodstuffs bearing the specific label "chicken" met with a great deal of aimless wandering and sorrowful gazing at the full dish. In my defense, I will point out that early in our relationship he was extraordinarily happy with flavorful offerings marked liver and beef, turkey and giblets or chef's plate.

You will all doubtless be pleased to read that I have rectified this situation, and have many tins marked "chicken". Although I did purchase two adulterated chicken products, one with beef and one with tuna. We'll see how that goes!

Why Dryland?

This is the first in a short series I'm writing on what swimmers call dryland training, mostly because some of you asked after reading my last post.

Injury Prevention

The major upper body muscles we use as swimmers to get us through the water are also muscles most people commonly know how to work in the gym. They include our lats, pecs, biceps, triceps and teres major (for which sadly there is no really good common colloquialism). But if we power up those muscles and leave out the shoulder stabilizers we can manufacture problems for ourselves.

As a joint, the shoulder is not remarkably stable to begin with. In fact, it is notoriously unstable! Muscle imbalances (often brought on by overuse and stroke flaws) lead to injury – particularly the dreaded “swimmer’s shoulder”, an impingement syndrome. Make no mistake, if you have a shoulder that has become tender or sore with swimming it needs to be addressed. “Swimming through an injury” is not the wisest of plans! Trained medical professionals can put us back on the right path quickly and minimize time away from the sport. If you have a shoulder injury, especially one that’s not been professionally diagnosed, please don’t start dryland exercises with the idea that you can fix it yourself! Self-diagnosis and a course of unprescribed exercise on top of an injury can easily lead to disaster! It’s also important to remember that not all impingement issues are caused by muscle imbalances.

An aside on paddles: swim paddles can be a useful stroke improvement tool, but if overused can precipitate shoulder injury. The lure of feeling strong and powerful in the water combined with the idea that they are strength training tools can lead to paddle overuse that can easily result in impingement problems. I don’t use them myself and believe that the older we get the more judicious we should probably be in using paddles. In particular people who have had shoulder injuries should be very careful. I spoke to my masters coach about it, and he suggested that if you use them absolutely no more than ten percent of a workout should involve paddles. That said, I haven’t been to a practice yet where we’ve used swim paddles.

So one of the objectives of my dryland work will be to engage those lesser known but extraordinarily important muscles of the rotator cuff – the SITS muscles (supraspinatus, infraspinatus, teres minor, subscapularis) as well as the deltoids, rhomboids, plus the mid and lower trapezoids. Strengthening these muscles can help me to prevent impingement syndrome. (The more distance I cover in the pool, the more important that is.) Even though balance isn’t my strongest suit, I do strive for it!

Thursday's Hot Tub Vignette ...

The Big Boy Triathlete across from me nodded his assent. I don't know his name yet. Or I've forgotten. Either one's equally possible.

“That’s it,” he said, “slow and careful.”

I don’t know if he was a swimmer first, but he was definitely a swimmer. I knew that immediately. I spend at least part of my time at the pool watching other people swim. Judging paces, looking at stroke mechanics. This man swam a broken 1500 one day, hundred each pull-kick-swim repeat times five. Even if his stroke hadn’t given him away, his kick with the board was so strong and so powerful it positively announced he had a background in aquatics.

I started back doing dryland training this week – that’s what we were talking about. Easy pulleys, minimal weight, lots of reps, I had told him. What was in the back of my mind was knowing last year, although I swam regularly, I really only did dryland as a substitute when I couldn’t get to the pool. It shouldn’t be that way and I know it. My coach didn’t hesitate to point it out, either. The exception is the exercises I do to keep myself moving. Those don’t even get charted. They’re just a part of everyday life.

“You can go for the power later on,” he told me.

Really, I’d be happy with consistency. So for the next couple of weeks my mileage may drop as I ease into a thrice weekly pattern with the pulleys. That’s okay. In fact it’s good. It’s all part of the plan. But he's right.

It’s not just about strengthening the muscles that swimmers use to move through the water. It’s about balance – particularly in the shoulder. Working on the stabilizer muscles will help to prevent injury (particularly the dreaded swimmer’s shoulder). And flexibility exercises help to keep muscles and joints doing what they're supposed to. So I’m going to do better!

As I start the first of three cycles of peroidization before Worlds, it's the right time.

Full of Hot Air ...

Last night while sitting reading I heard the familiar sound of a hot air balloon close by. So I grabbed the camera, darn near tumbled down the last of the front steps because I was looking up. Yes, I am only too aware I am supposed to watch where I'm going. Please don't tell my Mother about this.

When I did press the digital zoom into service I got some very close well framed shots. But the angle on this one shows the flame, which I really liked.

Speaking of hot air, while it's been hot and muggy of late out my brother's way, they're now battening down the hatches ready for Dean. Fingers crossed that if the storm hits it is weathered well!

As usual, the image can be enlarged with a mouse click.

Technical Difficulties ...

Nothing is ever simple or easy! However ... since when has that stopped us? Although yesterday I think things came very, very close!

After October's difficulties with my laptop, I noted that I planned to coax it through its fifth year (up in November). Nigel made a comment like "Laptops can last 5 years??". At this particular moment I have to admit the jury is still out. Dell's 5 year warranty option is no longer available, I hasten to add. In fact, had I planned to be in town in three weeks, I would have further decimated the budget by ordering a new one that's on sale right now. But I'm not. And I really don't need an issue with a courier and a computer. That could be the proverbial straw!

When, in the past, I have had ghosts in the machine, it has always been a hardware issue. And one that involves extensive discussions with "help line" personnel, and I say that with not a little sarcasm in my voice, who always tell me I must first reinstall windows. On more than one occasion that has resulted in the suddenly loss of a computer that had been at least limping along at the time, as the hardware malfunction the diagnostic software failed to find prevented reinstallation of windows.

Right now IE is seizing, followed by a long loop of "program not responding, end program" dialogue boxes. This is a Very Bad Sign. I've even had to power down to exit the loop. Hence the addendum to yesterday's post. Now you really don't have to ask. I am, as you might guess, somewhat resistant to the idea of calling the "help line". So for the time being I'm muddling along with my fingers crossed ... but at least my email's been fine.

Except (as you need an exception to make a rule, right?) that there has been a problem receiving emails sent from an outfit in Australia, trying to get accommodations in order for April. At least that one seems now to be solved. Although I was reasonably sure it wasn't at my end, there is always a niggling doubt. Happily, though, this one proved to be Not My Fault. One missing letter in an email address, and poof — the correspondence disappears!

After some research at the travel agent's yesterday (leaning towards 2 hours) it is now my considered opinion that a large part of being a travel agent is being able to make small talk with your client for extended periods of time while listening to the speaker phone say, "Your call is important to us ..."

To get from my hometown of Ottawa to Perth arriving on the first of April without laying over is about a 37 hour go with stopovers generally between 2 - 3 hours in Toronto, LA, and Brisbane. And, through the magic of time zones, if you were to leave at 3:00 on March 30 you would arrive in Perth a little shy of noon on April Fool's Day. Somehow there's something poetic in that, isn't there?

And now, for something lighter and infinitely more fun, I bring you (with a hat tip to Shiny, Shiny) an RC Toy that truly appeals to me! (Comm's, I think it might appeal to Mighty Mo, too!) To order this flying foam pterydactyl (at least in the UK), or learn more, follow this link.

Wading in ...

Bigun, in his own words, stirred the pot a little with a post on ethics, inspired by this article by Dr. Thomas Murray (posted on http://www.slowtwitch.com/). Over at Studies in Clydeology, SB talked about how a simple comment can become a full-blown rant. I hope I'm going to add a little to the discussion here, rather than beat a dead horse.

Many people don't know that prescription drugs at therapeutic levels to treat a proven medical condition are not in that case performance enhancers, even though their off label use can enhance performance and also be dangerous or have unforseen consequences for the user. I don't think this was particularly well explained in the article.

The World Anti-Doping Agency (WADA) already grants therapeutic exceptions to competitors (see http://www.wada-ama.org/en/exemptions.ch2), including international athletes at the Olympic level, and that's as it should be. (In fact, Dr. Murray chairs WADA's ethical issues review panel. WADA is not perfect, but it is not an agency that is soft on the idea of enhancing performance with drugs.) This same standard should hold true for masters athletics. (Whether masters/age group athletics ever gets to the point where drug testing is a financially viable option remains to be seen.)

The prohibited list is longer and more extensive than people might think (and currently includes gene doping). It includes drugs to control asthma, high blood pressure, diabetes, hormone deficiencies, inflammatory bowel diseases, renal transplantation, musculo-skeletal problems and more.

I don't think that Dr. Murray was arguing that aging is a disease. I believe his article was intended to present both sides of the coin in discussing the ethics of "supplementation" in "age group" athletics — including the views held by the "anti-aging" camp. I'm willing to bet he was trying to present opposing viewpoints in a discussion of the issues.

His final two paragraphs read:

Let me stop being, for the moment, a two-handed ethicist (“on the one hand, on the other hand…) and propose a rough principle here: If the drug proposed for use by a particular aging athlete is medically indicated to treat a disease, then the athlete should be permitted to use a therapeutic level of that drug; if the drug is meant to preserve the athlete’s health and well-being, and there is compelling scientific evidence that its benefits outweigh its risks for that population, then again the athlete should be permitted to use a medically sound dose. But, if there are no clear clinical indications or compelling scientific evidence, then athletes competing in masters’ level competitions should not use the drug. In this last instance, the risk is that flimsy science could be used to back drug use whose primary purpose and effect is sports performance enhancement.

Aging athletes have the same right to a level playing field as young athletes. A sensible policy towards dual-use drugs—drugs that have both legitimate medical uses but can also enhance performance—can help to keep that field as level as our years allow.

I hope that Dr. Murray is trying to support the same model for athletes WADA currently espouses.

P.S. Before I went out for the afternoon I had to rebuild this post from an earlier version I'd saved in word. Don't ask. I only wanted to add a label ...

Monday Miscellany

May I just say that Emma rocks??

Saturday she celebrated her seventh birthday with a lovely party at her home. She spent the actual day enjoying summer at the cottage. Her guests were all truly interesting people, and conversations were wide ranging. The prizes for winning games were outstanding. The food was excellent.

But here is the very best part. Less than 24 hours later there was something in my mailbox. A thank you note from Emma!!!

The Boarder and I were sitting on the front steps talking to our neighbour Denise (okay, the bipeds were doing all the talking, Onyx was relaxing) as supper time drew near, Emma came over with her Mom and her sister. Emma was carrying the loot bag I “forgot”. The best loot bag I have ever received in my whole entire life. Ever! Dark chocolate coated ginger from Stubbes!!!

Most of the day, however, I spent shopping. The supermarket with Norris (where I also replaced the toaster oven that self-destructed on Saturday). The Farmer's Market with Lise. Oh — and a dip in the pool!

A couple of things worth noting at the pool. I ran into my favorite guard, Kaliyana, who is taking the summer off aquatics. Big hugs all 'round! Now, this is another gal who truly rocks. She is an inspiration. She learned to swim as an adult, and loves what she does. Her enthusiasm for aquatics is absolutely contagious. One of the things she said to me was, "You were right!" Of course I'm still trying to remember the conversation ...

She'd been at the gym. She traded lessons with a personal trainer who works at the rec centre. Kaliyana gave her some swimming intruction for some dryland swim-specific exercises. She said she felt much stronger at her in-service training. Clearly I told her dryland training would improve her swimming. Something I need to put into practice myself come September.

What I learned at the pool yesterday was that the little neon man with the word slow on him meant to remind folks not to run on the deck doesn't always mean what he says. Apparently sometimes he has a note on the flag in his hand you can't read until you get right in front of it that tells you the whirlpool is closed. This was unfortunate to say the least. Usually they put 3 orange pilons up around its deck to show the whirlpool is closed. Had I any idea that's what the little man was saying when I got in the pool, I'd have swum less. However ....

As I took so many mallard pictures on Friday evening, I bring you this juvenile female bird proving a little dabble do ya. A click will get you a bird's eye view of his greenery!

Bits and Bobs ...

The lane swim at noon yesterday was relatively quiet (which was good, as I find Saturdays can be tremendously crowded), yet as I surveyed the "fast" lane I found things were not quite as advertised.

By contrast on Friday I had the privilege of swimming two in a lane with a Big Boy Triathlete. He was both strong and quick. I do enjoy swimming in a lane with people faster than myself. In fact, I would rather be lapped than be the one doing the lapping. His first question to me when we were both at the end of the pool was, "Do you do triathlons?"

Yesterday, however, the lifeguard on duty said to me, "You're going to decimate this lane today!" However, it wasn't difficult passing the three other swimmers, so it really didn't affect me at all. I think one of the gals was a bit intimidated by me — or just by being passed. Hard to tell which.

Some days I go to the pool with sets in mind, other days it is just a rough idea of distance I’d like to cover. Trying to listen to my body means adapting workouts on the fly. I planned to swim 1200, but slid in an extra few hundred metres. But what pleased me was the main set of 8 x 100 on 1:45. I haven’t swum hundred repeats on 1:45 in, well, thirty years, so that was heartening. And I could have done a longer set, but that the Shoe Debaucle has been problematic for my back, and I don’t really want to push my luck! They weren’t extraordinarily fast, but they were comfortable. Woo hoo!!!

In the tri-blogosphere at the moment arachnids seem to be front and centre. Fe-Lady recently brought us a black widow (and also a selection of insects), Dr. TriFeist had a close encounter with a large orb weaver. I have nothing so spectacular to compare, but I disturbed this little spider in the garden, so it skittered down the web and took this charming posture. As usual, a click gets you a better view!

Dabbling!

Blogger hates me! Or at the very least has been subverting my attempts to create a lovely post for nigh on a half hour! Each time I load a picture it reformats my text. For the moment Blogger and I will agree to disagree. And you may have to deal with an oddly formatted post. Sorry. It is what it is. At least at this point you can enlarge the images with a click. Update: finally the formatting seems to be in order.

Yesterday was an absolute calorie bonanza! In the afternoon blueberry frappuccino at Starbucks with AD, and the usual sparkling conversation. I don't think I even swam long enough to burn that off! For the evening repast, pork tenderloin served with mashed potatoes, julienned squash, and a titch of broccoli. Followed by cappuccino and mango gelato. Guess who will swim today, although she usually doesn't on Saturdays? Now, the last time I showed food pictures I got in trouble with some of you. It won't happen today because although I had the camera with me I plumb forgot to take pictures of dinner!

However, I did take my big purse to accommodate my new camera, so I could do some scenery shots and test the zoom on something other than flowers and insects. Leslie and I arrived at the Canal Ritz in good time, so before our meal I took some shots across the Rideau Canal — and managed to capture a few people enjoying summer in the city. The bike paths along the canal are favorites for cyclists, runners, or just those looking for a leisurely walk.


It was a wonderful summer evening in the city, although the nights are getting darker earlier, and as dusk approached we stood at the guard rail and watched the ducks. The sky was reflected in the water, and the mallards were busy dabbling and waiting for someone to show up with bread.

Prickly Goodness ...

Yup. I have a thistle in my garden! The image is clickable. I usually do. I leave one basal rosette on purpose. Not just because thistles are pretty. Which they are. Not just because they keep the insect life busy. Which they do. But because "George's pretty yellow birds" like them. They like the sunflowers, too. So, in the next while when the flowers go to seed, I'll be thinking about George.

Those who knew him understood that he was not in anyone's wildest imagination a birder. Oh, he had a keen interest in ornithology. And entomology. And mammalogy. He was excited by them all. Often so excited that his teeth chattered and his bottom wiggled.

When he was young he would spend entire summer days in pursuit of a single locust. (The darned things change direction mid-flight you know!) He would spend extraordinary amounts of time fascinated by ants going in and out of their holes. And despite our differences of opinion on the matter, he kept pet mice. And he had a squirrel friend. But that's a story for another time.

Speaking of cats, the Star Boarder has generally been appearing twice daily. I told Di (aka Mrs. Bigun) in email last night that he hadn't been staying for naps. So naturally he made a liar out of me and slept while I went to the pool. This morning he was a bit tardy, but ate well, and is still here. Cats!

This afternoon I'll be heading to Starbucks to meet AD for caffeinated calories and to vicariously experience shopping in New York City throug her! This evening it's off to the Canal Ritz with Leslie. So there ought to be something to report tomorrow for the foodies amongst you!

Flora and Fauna ...

A bit of summery goodness from the "back forty" — a lovely helenium. Click to see the disc florets up close and personal.

Speaking of the back, a neighbour came to me some time ago and informed me that we have a hedgehog!

"A hedgehog? A groundhog!"

"No," he vehemently assured me (as if I were some kind of idiot) that we had a hedgehog.

"Is it small and prickly looking?" I queried. Confused looks ensued.

"Is it larger and furry?" Because if we had a hedgehog (and I know we have a groundhog as he and I are not really seeing eye to eye), that would be someone's escaped pet. The sum total of hedgehogs native to North America is zero. "Would it fit in your hands?"

"Well," he told me, "it was in the maple tree eating leaves."

"Which maple tree?"

"The one in the backyard between your house and my house," he informed me.

"Um, there's no maple tree there. There's a plum, though. I can see him climbing to eat plums."

He became very insistent that there was, in fact a maple growing there, so I suggested he show me. Next to the plum is a volunteer hackberry. "No," he said, "it's a maple."

"Trust me," I said, "it's a hackberry. Celtis occidentalis." A quick primer: maples carry their branches and leaves opposite to each other, while hackberries are in the elm family, and their leaves and branches alternate.

I finally convinced him we had a groundhog not a hedgehog, though. For the record, I can misidentify along with the best, but I spent a summer of my life as a research grunt for a PhD candidate whose thesis focussed on activities of groundhogs in food crops. I trapped 'em, I weighed 'em, I sexed 'em, I checked 'em for parasites, and I spent days sitting in a field watching them and noting their above ground activities. The likelihood of me misidentifying a marmot is pretty much as low as statistically possible.

Swim Bit ...

Here's the thing. At least a thing. Not one thing — that's something completely different (I learned that from my brother). I am just not a fast decision maker. It takes me a long time to wrap my head around things. The bigger the things, the longer it takes me. By nature I'm a planner, and that may, in fact, make me even slower. So making a trip halfway around the world, being away for at least a month — that kind of thing really takes time. But I'm almost there.

Last night (after checking the time difference between Ottawa and Perth) I called Discover West Holidays, the official "host" for the FINA World Masters Championships April 15 -25 . It seems that my preferred hotel options remain available, so they will work up some quotes for the dates I provided. Their excursions to places like the Ningaloo Reef have not yet been worked out, because for the Aussies, that timeframe represents a new tourism year. The host agency provides free transfers to and from the airport, from the host hotels to Challenge Stadium throughout the meet, and a $400 voucher book that could well come in handy!

My time trial the other day indicates that I could probably add the 200, 400, and 800 freestyle (and there is an uncanny possibility that I might not even be DFL!!) to my list of events if I can find a local meet in the fall that runs an 800 and see that the referee gets official split times. At the moment I've met the qualifying standards in the 50 & 100 breast, 50 & 100 free, and 50 fly.

On the "other trip" front, today KD (person of Carter the Wonderdog) will stop by to grab up a new shoe (probably the one pictured below) for the chiropodist to have a lift built onto. The shoe then takes part in a relay of its own: Wendy to Kristin, Kristin to Dan, Dan to Graham, Graham to tech guy, and back on down the line. This saves me a trip out to the suburbs! And in an ideal world, it'll be back for IM Moo and I'll have something to stomp around on!

And for this morning, that is all.

Holiday Monday ...

Last night I sat down to write a post about the events of the brilliantly named Civic Holiday (often colloquially called the Banking Holiday), and went blank. I strongly considered the outstanding summary "I got nothin'," but just gave up and went to bed. Here's the recap now, though!

The Boarder came, ate, napped, and left. In the interim I pulled rhubarb and made rhubarb-strawberry crumble. Oh, and oatmeal raisin chocolate chip cookies. For holiday family meals I'm in charge of dessert. Then there was some excitement. The champagne coloured cat was back — and in the freaking driveway! Oh, the effrontery!!!! Now the last time the air raid sirens went off, it was before his breakfast and nap, and the lure of food was stronger than the need to defend the turf. This time it took me at least ten minutes to talk him out of having a Strenuous Discussion with the Other Guy.

I thought we had it under control, except neither feline would leave the driveway. So I picked up the Boarder to bring him in. Having already chosen Fight over Flight, he was in a Supercharged state. When the Other Guy took this indignity as a sign of victory and started (horror of horrors) rolling all over the driveway, the Boarder lost control and bit my bicep. I squeaked. He realized what he had done and immediately let go.

Now, I don't blame the Boarder. I got in between cats wanting to have a go. That comes with inherent risks. He didn't bite deeply or clamp down, but it was a valuable lesson. Possibly not the one you think. I'd do it again. Because (a) I learned that I'm not all that allergic to him. Yes, I live on the edge. I'm allergic to critters. And some other stuff. He punctured the skin, and I didn't swell up instantly. I did swell some, but in fact, no worse than many allergy shots I've had. Given that my nose has be running like a tap this weekend, that may be a minor miracle. (b) I really don't want him getting bitten by another cat, on account of that often leads to abscesses, and I don't think he's ready to be pilled, so I'll try to minimize the risk where possible. George didn't like the pilling at all, but he took it. I conditioned him. He got a high calorie gravy laden cat food treat after being pilled — something he never got otherwise. So he would come and ask for the pill, because the payoff was big. His v-e-t thought it absolutely hysterical when I phoned her to report that "George would like some placebos please."

Then it was off to the Parental Units' for a nice lunch of salad, shrimp, and my first corn on the cob of the season. Oh, and the crumble topped with vanilla gelato. We called my cousin for his birthday, got the machine, and then called ma tante. On the way home we stopped at the Farmer's stall for some veggie goodness.

And now, for a couple of brief swim bits. Sunday I put in such an evenly paced 1000 metres I shocked myself. Yeah, that'll never happen again. 1:43/100 metres at the 400 and the 1000 metre marks. Spooky! And an old post from Timed Finals for Jenny, who ran a fine half mary (race report here) on Sunday, on books with a swimming theme. Be sure to scroll down for a wonderful comment by Erik, Jerry Heidenreich's 21 Top Laws of Swimming.

I'll save the story of the local marmot for later. If I didn't know better, I'd say he's using the P-Dawg Leader as his role model!

Finally, I leave you today with an upclose and personal look at a paper wasp in the goldenrod. Oh, and a bit of insect trivia — the facial markings on European paper wasps are linked with social status of the wasp. Click to see his smiling face!

Booby Trapped!

Last night Lise and I went out to see the early show of The Order of The Phoenix. A most enjoyable evening. I note that the film seems to still doing a brisk business.

I'll be off Tipper Sitting Duty tomorrow. The poor guy misses his people. In fact, he seems to act out the first night they're gone. Once he rearranged the kitchen by emptying a cupboard. Once he upset his (full) water dish. This time around he developed the Rain of Kibbles Strategy.

I expect working under the premise that I might never return to feed him, he dragged a full bag of kibbles out from the cupboard. A big plastic resealable bag. Several kilos worth. Like this one. I believe his next step was to open it, although some opening may have occurred during the dragging manouevre. He won't say. But he didn't open it in just one spot.


So when I came into the kitchen, there was the bag of kibbles in the middle of the floor. We discussed the matter, and having seen the opening on the side of the bag facing up, and not knowing it was booby trapped, I lifted it rather carefully, and the Rain of Kibble began!

Each time I moved the bag, kibbles escaped from a different hole, bouncing off the hardwood floor much to the delight of the cat! Tipper picked a bounce trajectory, bounded into the air, and grabbed a kibble mid-flight. I said some very large technical words, and tried not to spill too many as I edged towards the counter. The kibbles continued to rain down, much to the delight of Tipper, who was frolicking amongst them, eating one at a time and enjoying every minute of it. The joy! The excitement!! The fun!!!! The big technical words. Follow the bouncing kibble!!

P.S. The bag of kibbles has sat quietly on the counter in a garbage bag ever since. I had to sweep up a good number of kibbles, as even Tipper could not keep up with the manna presenting itself.

He's Learning!

The Star Boarder has picked up a trick or two these past few days. He no longer sprints out of sight at the sound of the doorbell. He seems to have come to the conclusion that if I have allowed someone into the house, they will be as happy to see him as I am, and thus, he can loll about in the vestibule awaiting their attention. This is a Secure Location, and Security has clearly Vetted the Visitors. He has also decided that the Location is secure enough to allow belly baring. Also, under certain circumstances, it is Permissible for me to gently rub said belly. In his defense, it was over 30°C in the house when I took this picture yesterday.

After a meal or a snack, unless one is in desperate need of a nap, it is now acceptable to do Personal Grooming. It is a good idea to demonstrate this, so a wise choice of locations is approximately three to four feet in front of me. This is made easier if I am sitting tippy-tapping on the laptop, but can be workable in other situations.

He has clearly been keeping an eye on my neighbour cat Nathan – who gets quite frantic if he is at the back door and I am not immediately scurrying to pat him on the head or provide him with an al fresco dining experience. Nathan first knocks on the door. If, for some Inconceivable Reason that does not achieve the desired result, he stands on his hind legs and paws rapidly at the sliding glass door with his forepaws. It makes quite a racket.

This morning, not seeing Onyx early, I went on about my People Things. I had coffee, read blogs, ate a muffin, deleted spam, brought in the paper and began to read it. The newspaper blocks my view of the door. Blissfully it is cooler and breezy out today, so the glass door is open, and all that separates me from the outside world is the screen door. I heard a funny noise, yet a quiet noise. There was The Boarder, standing on his hind legs, rapidly pawing at the screen. Not surprisingly, it got the desired effect. I note his claws were in at the time. Meowing would either be too simple or poor etiquette. Which, I'm just not sure.

Hot & Hazy ...

In fact yesterday that described both the weather and myself. Possibly even the Boarder, who was noticeable by his absence during the day yesterday, but surprisingly turned up at the front door near 7:00 p.m. (Today he is back on track, having had breakfast and retired.)

Today I bring you an imported pest that is extraordinarily beautiful. I found it last evening beginning to skeletonize my Virginia creeper (Parthenocissis quinquifolia). Like many imports, in its natural environment the Japanese beetle (Popillia japonica) has predators and is not the problem it is here. Identifiable not just by its lovely metallic copper and green coloration, this scarab beetle has six distinctive white tufts along its abdomen. They may look like dots to the naked eye, but they show in good detail if you click on the photo. If you need to identify the grub, it has a v-shaped arrangement of spines on its raster (last abdominal segment).

The Great Shoe Debaucle ... continued

Let's be clear, I generally don't mind shopping. Sometimes it can be downright fun. But shopping for some items gives me hives. Undergarments. Oh how I hate that! Shoes — fraught with disappointments. Pressure shopping for shoes, well, you can just imagine how I feel about that!

However, yesterday I did find two serviceable pairs of shoes and ideally I can get at least one lifted in time for IM Moo. Because if there's one thing I learned as a spectator at IMAZ — you walk and stand a lot! They're not perfect (they're both nubuck, and I would have preferred at least one pair in plain ole leather), and not as stylish as my stolen shoes, but one takes what one can get. (What one got was these Beautifeel shoes marked down from $200 to $59.95, and the Clarks Newbeats pictured marked down a third.) They both have proper latex soles, so have significantly more longevity in the lift department. The Clarks fasten with real buckles. Imagine! No velcro!!!

I landed at the pool at 8:30, having a planned short easy swim on my mind. Ended up just over 1500, with more intensity than planned. And for those of you who may think the pool is always stupid busy, by the end of the session there were but two of us (both former competitive swimmers). So I asked the Big Boy if when he was done he might help me do a couple of relay starts, and he was very pleased to help. w00t! Three dive starts, using the goggles I found thanks to the nice folks at Inside Out Sports. Now, I haven't done a relay start in, say, 30 years, but he put me at ease saying it had been 15 for him. Plus he was able to give me some feedback. Two of the three were good. The breaststroke to fly transition, not so much. But at least I wasn't early. Better to stand on the block a bit too long than DQ your whole relay.

Chicks in the Fast Lane ...

So, once again, I didn't make it to practice last night. No matter how hard I try, Tuesday nights are really not workin' out. At least in that respect. No excuses. I promised Coach Duane that if I turned up at practice I'd be at my best, and yesterday I wasn't. Teaching Monday afternoon angers my back to begin with — add in the whole shoe issue, and the leetle "mistake" I made and I was not in a good place to be taking the bus to and from practice. I really do know better than to try on pants and skirts when my back is buggin' me. But the lure of a 50% markdown at Lida was too much. On the up side, I found a great red Elie Tahari modal/lycra "t-shirt" at half price. T-shirt is in quotations because the finishing details make it much more like a blouse. However, that said ... I did get 1500 in.

Last night was stupid busy at the pool. Stupid busy. Seven people in the fast lane. A lot of passing going on. Still, there were a couple of breakthroughs for me last night. My 400 squeaked in under 6:35, bringing the 100 metre pace down to 1:38. And my 100 IM's, which have been repeating around 1:45 dropped down to 1:38. Now, rest intervals were all over the map until two other gals swimming in the lane joined me in the hundreds, and we chicks dominated the lane! Then we were going on between 2:00 and 2:15, depending on the location of the other swimmers. It is a rare and glorious thing when, in a lane swim, there are high fives after a set!

Today, for eye candy, I bring you a daylily I bought with my chum Alison last year. I could not help but buy it. The cultivar name? 'Cinderella's Dark Side'.