Saturday 24 October 2015

'Tis the season: Toronto turns technicolor

Toronto is showing off lately. The Blue Jays (baseball team) *almost* got to the World Series. Our new prime minister beams from the front pages of the paper. The weather has not been awful. And best of all the leaves are strutting their stuff, changing to their annually marvelous colours. At least, I think they are marvelous;  a colleague at work disagrees. "I grew up in the north," she told me. "Surrounded by sugar maples. Now those leaves are really brilliant. Down here you don't get anything like such intensity. Once," she reminisced, "we had an early snow followed by a sunny day. The red of the leaves against the white drifts..." She gazed down the fluorescent-lit corridor of our uninspired building, seeing beauty.

Autumn in southern California, where I grew up, is a poor show in comparison; any leaves that are not evergreen turn a soft shade of yellow and drop uncertainly and sparsely. Someday perhaps I'll head north -- further north-- to see the sugar maples in their autumnal glory.  For now, I am happy to enjoy the entertainment offered by the trees of Toronto, our (self-proclaimed) 'city within a park'.

Sunny day in Sunnybrook Park, with daughter and dog 


Tuesday 20 October 2015

In Which Canada Votes, I Don't, and Justin Trudeau Wins

Like the rest of the country, I can hardly believe it.  Conservative PM Harper's out; Liberal Trudeau, a former teacher, is in. Not at all what the pollsters predicted. Bless.

Canada feels different already.

"I am not the one who made history tonight," says the new prime minister in his victory speech. "You are. You put me here."  Well, not me per se, since, as a non-citizen, I cannot vote.

In fact, Trudeau said it in French first. The man's got all the right words, in English and French. "This is what positive politics can do!" he exclaims. "Kids, Daddy will still be there for you!" he reassures his (currently sleeping) offspring. It's a little like a fairy tale.  

Being a leftie-liberal-hippie-pinko type, I have not been best pleased to find myself living on the side of the border ruled by an evangelical, anti-abortion, tar-sands-exploiting, trickle-down economics guy,  who to top it all off, forbad federal scientists from speaking their own minds.

Those days are history, at least for the moment.

I'm keeping fingers poised to pinch myself come morning. I have had weirder dreams.

May I say 'YIPPEE'?




Refresh in: 36Seats to form majority: 170
PARTY NAMELEADING + ELECTEDELECTED SEATSPOPULAR VOTECHANGE IN SEATS (?)
Liberals18417439.6%42.7%
Conservatives1009232.1%-22.0%
NDP433019.3%-18.1%
Bloc Québécois1084.9%2.4%
Green113.3%-0.3%
Other000.8%-4.5%
88% of polls reporting
From The Globe and Mail: http://www.theglobeandmail.com/news/politics/federal-election-2015/ridings/


Monday 19 October 2015

Got milk? A rant.

Our house has only a tiny back garden, with no lawn. In front, though, there is a little square of grass. In addition, our street possesses what in local parlance is called ‘a boulevard’, meaning that a width of grass runs the whole length of the block, on both sides, between the pavement and the road. (In the L.A. suburbs of my childhood, this was called ‘normal’.) Recently, I've been looking at these grassy stretches with an appraising eye and wondering what the law says regarding common grazing rights. How much grass do cows actually consume? I'm thinking I might get one or possibly two. In my beloved BBC Radio 4 soap opera, The Archers (“an everyday story of country folk” -- known to us ' tweetalongers' with its hashtag: #TheArchers) , I listened the other day to an episode in which 21-year-old Pip milked the whole of the Brookfield Farm herd while flirting with one of the Fairbrother boys. (Toby, the dashing, dubious one.) As I listened, it occurred to me that milking just one or two cows couldn't be all that difficult. Could it? Jerseys maybe. All I want is enough milk for my little family.


I’m driven to such fantasies by the difficulties I face obtaining milk in local stores. My requirements are simple: I want healthful, safe, and tasty milk for a reasonable price in a simple, sensible, rigid container with a reclosable top. Modest desires. What I can get within my budget at grocery stores, however, is a floppy plastic bag filled with white liquid. Yes, that’s how most milk is packaged in Canada, or at least in Ontario. After five years here, I'm still shocked.


It’s like this.  Three 1.3L transparent plastic sacs of milk are nestled into one large colourful bag whose top is secured with a twist-tie, making up four liters in total. At home, the hapless consumer wrangles one of the three small bags into a small container with a handle (purchased separately for the purpose), leaving the top of the bag poking out, but hopefully not too far out, because then one snips off the corner of the milk bag with scissors, or if they are missing, a knife. Too small a hole and the milk won’t pour, but too large a one leads to messy overflow. It’s sloppy even with a perfectly-sized hole (I'm told, not having achieved such nirvana myself) because some drops of milk will always dribble down between the bag and the container’s interior. Almost nobody washes out the jug between bags.

And in a family of five, a liter-and-a-bit sac of milk empties in day or less, triggering the annoying rigamarole of Changing the Bag with great frequency. A sort of hot-potato game evolves, to avoid finishing off the last of the milk, at least when there are witnesses. (Where are those damned scissors? Oh never mind, I'll just have green tea. Even though it tastes like dirt.) And, adding insult to injury, the milk is left in the fridge with its gaping hole, easily spillable, and, you know, open. Yuck.


It's a crazy state of affairs, I tell you.


Why is it thus? I asked the locals when we first arrived in Canada, to no avail. I present my case: milk is a fluid, gravity exists, plastic bags are flexible and pierceable and really pretty unsuited to the transportation and service of milk. Shrugs. I, however, have not accommodated. My irritation and annoyance have only grown with the passage of time. 

Milk in cartons can be had, albeit at double the price:




Milk in bags (4L):                                     Milk in cartons (2L):


$3.97 ea ($.10/100 mL) $4.39 ea ($.22/100 mL)




Hence, the recent bright idea of starting my own dairy herd.

Luckily, though, in the nick of time, someone mentioned to me Mac's Stores. I was already vaguely aware of this chain of convenience stores with a winking red owl as their logo. Apparently, went the rumour, Mac's were allowed, by special dispensation from the Queen or some such (I made that up) to sell milk in 4-liter rigid (though still plastic) jugs. I ventured in one day, and sure enough, it was true! Four liters of milk in a decent-sized container WITH A TOP. At the moment such treasure costs $4.99, plus a returnable 25 cent deposit. Calloo, callay!

All is not perfect, however. Perish the thought. Mac's stores in Toronto generally do not have car parks attached, so acquisition is a bit tricky, and outings to purchase milk have come to seem like surreptitious forays for contraband. Psst. Got any 2% left? Often I swing by the Mac's on a corner near my office, riding my bike. I can fit two 4-liter jugs in the basket.There's another Mac's just next to the orthodontist's office with street parking nearby, if it's before 4:00 pm.

It may not be the Queen herself who issues the Dairy Decree, but the Government is involved in regulating milk packaging. In fact, Container Controversy still rages. A year or so back, Mac's wanted to sell milk in three-liter containers. Horror! The Ontario dairy industry along with various provinicial ministries reacted strongly against this apostasy:

http://www.thestar.com/news/gta/2014/12/11/its_official_you_can_buy_3litre_milk_jugs.html

I can't help but think they are all totally nuts, but as long as i get my fix of milk in a container that respects gravity, I will be satisfied. At least I'm not entirely alone, as I discovered recently:

http://www.producer.com/2014/08/ontarios-great-milk-jug-debate-puts-dairy-industry-in-odd-situation/

The most recent twist in the story has me a little scared. Mac's Stores are being taken over by a US-based chain called Circle K. Their logo is, unsurprisingly, a letter 'K' inside a circle. Farewell, then, to the winking owl. I can live with that. But I am on tenterhooks waiting to find out whether they will still sell milk in jugs. Until I can be certain, I'm keeping my eye on the price of Jerseys.



Wednesday 7 October 2015

Great lake



When I was a map-reading child, I loved the idea, the sound, of a region called 'the Great Lakes'. Why couldn't we refer to California as 'the Wonderful West'?

Now that I actually live here, the Great Lakes often disappoint me, even though I came to understand that 'great' refers to their size, not their aesthetic supremacy (or Superiority). However, last month, en route home from a work trip to Kingston, Ontario, I decided to stop in Prince Edward County, because so many people had told me of its loveliness. Yeah, yeah, yeah, I thought, dubious. I have not been overly impressed by the local landscape. (Well, okay, Niagara Falls deserves its rep.)

I had toted my bike from home all the way to Kingston, 300 km away, on the back of the car, which I now parked in the small town of Picton. After a frugal lunch of tuna salad sandwich in the bookshop cafe, I rode the 15 km to Sandbanks Provincial Park, on the shore of Lake Ontario.

All of it impressed me: the cute town of Picton, the kindness of its bookshop employees (here, hey said, take my map), the rolling agricultural landscape of the county, the judicious sprinkling of art galleries, and finally the widely dramatic sweep of the lake beach at Sandbanks. I sat there listening to the rush of waves for as long as I dared before dusk crept up, and then rode the 15 km back to my car.

It's not the Amazing Pacific, but it will do. Quite nicely in fact.