snacks on a plane

I carry a baggie of nuts, seed and dried fruit with me at all times. You never know where your next meal is coming from. And if I get stuck on a job, a bus, an edit or an airport, I want to be prepared. If I don't eat enough, I get a bit wrangy, irritable, and plain old stupid.

Today my baggie contains almonds, walnuts, pumpkin seeds, dried blueberries, sour cherries and gooseberries.

Of course, if you do get stuck at an airport, and it happens to be the Island Airport, you can fill up on ginger cookies or shortbread or toasted almonds to your heart's delight. Porter recently celebrated (with cupcakes, see photo) four years of business. Flying refined. I'll say. Breakfast, lunch, and a glass of wine or a tall can of Steam Whistle that's complimentary? Hip hip hooray. I will do anything to avoid a trip to Pearson.

If I have to go to Ottawa for the day (which happens maybe twice or three times a year) I can ride my bike to the Island Airport, lock it up, hop on a state-of-the-art Bombardier Q400, do my business, then do the reverse to get home. No need to dip into my emergency nut sack.

Then there's is flying privately.

Well.

Disclaimer: This has happened only once.

I was hired to shoot the ground breaking ceremony for new gold mine near Timmins. A brisk September morning after making the 90 second ferry ride over to the terminal, the gang (16 of us) walked straight past the pleasant, navy clad Porter employee down the special steps on the right.

Outside, a few hundred feet to the end of the building, we rounded the corner where the pilot met us in the private terminal. Washrooms, leather chairs and that morning's Globe and Mail there for the taking. Eight people per plane were to board each of the two King Air 200's awaiting us. Lovely little aircraft. Extra smooth flight to the airstrip outside Timmins, then another hour's drive through the winding forested rocky road to the mine near Metachawan.

Only on the return flight did I learn that my colleague was afraid to fly. I suppose that's why he dipped in the portable cooler of canned Canadians first. We passed a basket of chips and peanuts around and enjoyed happy hour. It was Friday, 3:00 pm.

I'm not going to lie to you. I hate line ups and would prefer a private flight any day.

That said, Porter is indeed, flying refined.

october dusk haiku

today on the path
october dusk is not cold
light on still water

stop

We are so small.

Think about that for a moment. We are alive on an orbit that is revolving in a universe which is a tiny part of a thing that is a size we (any of us) cannot perceive.

The term is "mind boggling".

Things happen around us constantly. But don't confuse fate with coincidence.

When you are not looking, when you are not searching for answers, or trying to stay awake, or wanting to get to sleep, or struggling to get things done, when you least expect it, here is short list of what you might find:

- a ten dollar bill in your winter jacket pocket
- two extra containers of apple sauce at the back of the pantry cupboard
- an idea
- a coin on the street...maybe even a whole dollar
- a dinosaur hiding in the trees on the bike path
- the love of your life
- a cat -a little creature, who becomes your little pal, part of the family. Now it's a thing you can't live without. Something you cherish because this animal is your safe place. It brings you joy.
- laughter
- a photo exhibit in a mall where an image of a giraffe lying in a dried up riverbed moves you to tears.
- a new friend
- a good deal on laundry detergent
- some small sense of stability
- a little old lady who can't get her bank card to work. Help her.

Full stop.

Vote Crack Back

I enjoy being somewhere I've never been before. A different bike route home, getting groceries at a new grocery store, an ethnic restaurant on the other side of town. Sometimes my work takes me to these places. Cities like Paris (France), Santa Monica (California), or Alexandria (Ontario).

I have an affinity for small towns because it is where I come from. I know what they are. They are a unit, a community, an entity. A small town is a solid place to be from. But growing up in a small town on the prairies I left me thinking, there must be more to it than this.

There is.

There is plenty to see, to do, to feel, to eat, to touch, to hear out there. Wherever there is. The world is your oyster. That's what being from a small town teaches you. It teaches you that you can go anywhere and talk to anyone. Or maybe that was just my dad. That's what he does. I love him dearly and marvel at his skill. He will talk to anyone. At length. Anytime. About anything.

But the thing is...where you are, is where you're at.

So now I live in the city that Canada loves to hate. It's busy and congested and smelly and it has a lot of great restaurants. And on an evening of an election for our new mayor, I wish I were in a smaller place. A simpler place. I really don't need that much.

But I voted. Where I live. In Toronto. I did my civic duty. Will it make a difference?

What struck me in Alexandria were the simple, bilingual signs: "Re-elect Grant Crack for Mayor"

I have no doubt if I were to dig deeper into this community I would find a cast of characters rich enough to complete a hearty collection of short stories, an anthology of plays, a film crammed with local, admirable wonders.

Fargo (North Dakota). I vacationed there as a teen.

Enough said.

About Alexandria:

North Glengarry is a township in eastern Ontario, Canada, in the United Counties of Stormont, Dundas and Glengarry. It is a 69% rural area located between Ottawa-Hull, Montreal and Cornwall-Massena. The current township of North Glengarry was created on January 1, 1998 by amalgamating the former townships of Kenyon and Lochiel with the villages of Maxville and Alexandria.

The township comprises the urban community of Alexandria (population 3,287) and the rural communities of Apple Hill, Athol, Baltics Corners, Breadalbane, Brodie, Dalkeith, Dominionville, Dornie, Dunvegan, Fairview, Fassifern, Fiskes Corners, Glen Robertson, Glen Sandfield, Greenfield, Guaytown, Kirkhill, Laggan, Lochiel, Lochinvar, Lorne, Maxville, McCormick, McCrimmon, Pine Grove, St. Elmo and Stewarts Glen.

Alexandria is served five or six times a day by the Montreal-Ottawa VIA Rail trains which almost all stop there, in each direction.

Source: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/North_Glengarry,_Ontario

fall

We fall because we rise. We arrive at a place and now have somewhere to fall from. A place of risk, change, opportunity.

Fall. Autumn. The season where everything is red and gold. Leaves, light, apple pie. The glimmer in your eye when you wink at me. Bottle it up. Can a few jars to get you through the frosty grey days ahead.

A plane falls out of the sky and collides with the sea killing everyone on board. Innocent, guilty, and the undecided. They are gone, never to fall again.

She falls in love. He does not. She falls apart.

Freefall. Terminal velocity clocks in at 195 km/hr. A speed where existence is clean and sharp and precise. Different rules apply. One move is like a thousand. It is clear and present. Danger? Calculated risk.

They fall on their knees and pray. To a God of their choice. They fall to the ground and ask for forgiveness, peace, understanding. They give thanks for the blessings and beg the curses to go away.

Jack fell down and broke his crown. Jill came tumbling after.

We fall into the arms of our lovers. We lean heavily there. Breathing into their chest against warm skin to soothe our tired minds. We tremble, we break. They hold steady. Our soft place to fall.

Hair falls to the floor in the salon. Strands of silver, black, yellow, white. Collected in piles, it is swept up and tossed away. Once part of a living thing it is dust. Trash.

At the end of every day the sun falls behind the earth. It is that one thing to count on.

The price of fertilizer does the opposite of fall. It rises. Mother Nature had a bad spring and wept deeply. Corn crops failed. Sustainability is reaching its peak. Beware the great fall.

A tear falls down the cheek of an audience member at the ballet. He searches the spectacle for answers. Clues to help him make a decision, feel more, cry less.

The ballet dancer has fallen arches. She moves like water, masking the pain. She is conditioned. Mind over it does not matter. She has a duty, a purpose, a goal.

Niagara Falls.

Humpty Dumpty had a great fall. Irreparable damage. The lesson? Eggs have no business sitting on walls.

California falls into the ocean. Thousands die. A planet is in shock, horrified. No one saw it coming.

Fall forward, spring back. The clocks change. Time is manipulated. We are given an extra hour. What will you do with it?

I fall asleep. Finally, after shifting and wrestling with fragments of thought and sound. I need it to stop. I need the black. I need rest.

Tiger falls from grace and so does the stock price of name brand sports items he represents. Led into temptation, unable to resist, weak. A fallen hero.

The elderly fall and break their bones. Fragile from age, they cannot heal. Angry and suffering they are waiting to die. Let them scream. Leave them be.

A late fall snowfall leaves bits of fluff atop one another. Flakes land on runny noses of laughing children. Enough to build a man. Their wooly mittens are soaked through from the work. A corn cob pipe and a button nose. But it is difficult too see through coal. He melts the next day and falls away.

We fall because we rise. If we don't fall, we won't learn, evolve, change, grow.

At some point, we all fall down.

Safe travels.

thankfulness

This is what High Park looked like today.







Below is a list of some things I am thankful for:

tastebuds
the sun
love
lions
sensibility
saturday morning coffee
the word 'sparkle'
kissing
raspberries
vision
the colour orange
backgammon
garlic
canoes
butterscotch ripple ice cream

sarah selecky and ronnie burkett

It's important to be inspired by things we see, hear and read.

If you can, read Sarah Selecky's book, This Cake is For the Party.
http://www.amazon.ca/exec/obidos/ASIN/0887625258/sarasele-20

Sarah is my writing teacher and the book has been shortlisted for the Giller Prize.

Then see Ronnie Burkett's play, BILLY TWINKLE Requiem for a Golden Boy.
http://www.factorytheatre.ca/1011season.htm

It's been extended until October 31.

In a world where we need a month dedicated to child abuse prevention, where there are too many orphaned cats and dogs that will ever be adopted, where justice and law don't always add up, we must find ways to cope, continue and carry on.

At the talk back Q&A after the show I saw on Tuesday Ronnie said, "I don't understand us. So I make little versions of us and make us talk to each and move around and maybe I'll figure it out."