Sunday, 30 June 2013

Photo Blogging Challenge - June

Each month, P.J. over at a 'lilhoohaa hosts a photo blogging challenge. This month's prompt was bridges. Now, I couldn't afford a plane trip to L.A. in order to hunt down Lloyd, Beau or Jeff so I had to make do with some local talent. With rivers, canals and highways, the Ottawa area has plenty of bridges.

There are some nice rustic wooden bridges out of town on the Quebec side of the Ottawa River. Here's one on the way to Wakefield, Quebec...

And if you make it to Wakefield you'll see this covered bridge...

Back in Ottawa the Pretoria Bridge crosses the Rideau Canal. It's a lift bridge and stops traffic every time a boat large enough has to float beneath it.

What many call the E.B. Eddy Bridge is actually known as the Chaudieree Crossing. This is a series of bridges across the rapids of the Ottawa River between Ontario and Quebec through the old E.B. Eddy paper factory. Here's one section...

And finally, one of my favourite local bridges is the Royal Alexandra Interprovincial Bridge which joins downtown Ottawa to Hull, Quebec over the Ottawa River. The structure was built by Canadian Pacific Railways in 1900 and back in the day this bridge had train tracks down the centre with traffic on each side. Now the oncoming traffic runs down the centre and a pedestrian lane is over on the far left.

Click on P.J.'s link up there and check out the work of the other photographers.

Saturday, 29 June 2013

Sunday Funnies - On Saturday!

Okay, so these usually get posted on Sunday but tomorrow's the end of the month and that's when I post photos related to P.J.'s monthly photo challenge. So we're running our editorial cartoons today. C'mon back tomorrow for the photos.

Tuesday, 25 June 2013

Happy/Bonne Fete Nationale Canada Day Week

If memory serves me well - not that I was around then, but the history books tell me it happened - back during the war of 1812 a bunch of silly, and incendiary-minded, whooped-up Canadians burned down the White House and the Capital Building in Washington. Hey, what did we know?

Who's up for some s'mores?

Since then the relationship between us has improved immeasurably. After all, it had nowhere to go but up.

Of course, if a bunch of nut-job Yanks were still harbouring a grudge and were up to returning the favour this would probably be the best week to do it.

Sound incredible? It could happen. Just think of rallying the members of the Westboro Baptist Church together. And I thought Canada was the per capita king of nut jobs.

How could it happen? Because many Canadians - the ones in so called lower Canada - will likely book off work this week and take advantage of yesterday's Fete National or St Jean-Baptist Day June 24th - where the majority of Quebeckers eat a lot of poutine, drink a lot of Labatt's 50 and watch a lot of fireworks - and next Monday's Canada Day July 1st - where the majority of the rest of the country imitates Quebec.

Cinquante de Labatt - a manly Canadian beer.

You see many Quebeckers and Canadians will enjoy one or the other or both long weekends, and perhaps the shortened work week in between as well.

They'll be off at the cottage, the lake, Toronto, (yeah, right!) the poutine bar and the brewery and such and you Americans can just sneak right in.

And these days we won't mind coming under attack. Everybody hates our government up here anyway, not to mention certain fat cats in the Senate who feel a certain entitlement to padding their expenses at the taxpayers, um, ah, expense.

And guys, leave your watery, diluted, pissy Budweiser beer at home. But bring your own fireworks. We can't afford them any more after paying out all those housing allowances to members of the Red Chamber.

If you're looking for our Parliament Buildings, just go to Toronto and turn right.
Don't wait too long. Come July 1 you'll encounter this crowd.

Oh, and if I forget later, or am too hung over or too poutine puffy to remember, Happy July 4th!

Tuesday, 18 June 2013

Dentistry With Dufus

Yeah, that's me. About three-quarters of the way through my root canal yesterday. Last week, I was lying about, reading a book on my iPad and coping with one of those man colds. I was hacking my lungs up, blowing my nose to beat the band and cranking up the stereo because I was so stuffed up I was practically deaf (why's Mrs D always yelling at me?) when just when I thought I was a marvellous medical malady multi-tasker a tooth started to ache.

It got worse Thursday but I didn't call the dentist. I have one of those love/hate relationships with my dentist. Usually hate wins out. Did I think my toothache would get better? Hey, miracles can happen.

By Friday I was eating food the consistency of baby food and called the dentist. He doesn't work Fridays it turns out. He golfs. Lucky guy. But his colleague could take me, and did, and prescribed antibiotics until I could see my dentist Monday.

Interesting weekend. More pablum-like food. Soup. Stuff that doesn't require chewing.

Saw my dentist Monday. Didn't let on I hate him. It actually wasn't too bad. I debated whether I should have the tooth pulled or a root canal done. The latter won out. It only took an hour and-a-half.

Now let me set the scene. The bad tooth was on the top of my mouth. So they tipped me  back in the chair until I was almost standing on my head. Then they attached this rubber sheet around the tooth and away they went. Do you know what's it like to virtually stand on your head, keep your mouth open and drool for an hour and-a-half? No? I do.

Now the idea behind a root canal is to drill a hole, remove the infection then cram a bunch of crap in the hole and cover it all up. This was a tiny tooth, not a big molar. But they sure jammed a lot of crap in that canal.

Dentistry has come a long way over the years. The novocaine needle was painless and the operation went off without a hitch. Man, when I was a kid I recall needles the size of darning needles and drills like jackhammers with the pulleys whirring away in front of me scaring me half to death.

Why I hate dentists. Bad childhood memories.

Thank goodness my dentist, who I've been seeing close to 30 years, doesn't live up to his name. What is it? Dr. Hacking.

And I enjoyed his tooth-side manner so much I'm going back for part two of the procedure next week!

Tuesday, 11 June 2013

Toilet Humour

My toilet was on the fritz so I called a plumber.

When the doorbell rang I was surprised the repairman was a woman. And she was gorgeous. No American standard, believe me.

She told me her name was Fawcett.  I thought "Yep, I'd tap that."

I was struck dumb. I flushed in embarrassment. But she didn't seem to notice and plunged into her work.

I had to crane my neck to see what she was doing.

I asked if she could use any help. She said she could handle it.

But I knew she was having a tough time of it 'cause she nearly blew a gasket.

She about bowled me over because she swore like a stevedore. Whatever floats your boat, I thought.

And then I thought if she'd taken elocution lessons they'd surely gone to waste.

Oh, well.

For me, though, it was like water off a duck's back. I wasn't offended. There was no chance that I'd sewer.

She reached into her bag and pulled out a can of motor oil; an odd item to fix a toilet with. I said "What's that?" "Valve-o-line, of course," she replied. I felt like a complete toto.

Soon she was done and said to me "Urine luck. I'll only charge you for the parts not the labour." "Holy crap, I piped up, "that's a great deal".

I fixture with my unblinking eyes and said "tanks a lot".

I think she liked me because she gave me her number and said I could Kohler.

Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...