Commoon misconception.

It is a common misconception....

....that there is a man on the moon...

....in fact there is a giant song sparrow, who perches and serenades the stars with his slightly flat rendition of David Bowie's Space Oddity.

So now you know.

Are you dancing?

I have never been much of a public dancer (*), I think I can count on one hand the times I've danced in front of other people. Most memorably for me was the occasion at a family wedding many moons ago. I found myself so inspired by a Billy Joel track (probably Uptown Girl), that I managed to mash-up Celtic Sword Dancing and The Robot, to hideous effect. (I can only hope that I am the only one that remembers this....and I am eternally grateful that back then video-cameras were few and far between).

In recent years, only the imbibing of copious amounts of alcohol have led to more than a mere foot tap, and then I have found myself looking down and wondering whose legs those are jiggling about so ridiculously, before regaining self-control and retreating to the safety of wallflower status once again.

It may be surprising to learn then, that I LOVE to dance, and behind the safety of closed doors and drawn blinds, I will boogie away on my own for hours at a time. Particularly on overcast or rainy days, I like nothing more that to push my spinning wheel to one side, stick on ELO at full blast, and then I twist, I Charleston, I fling out moves from Saturday Night Fever - and I absolutely LOVE it. And as I get older, I find this seeping out into public more and more.

This week has been a prime example, as in our fourth summer in Ottawa, we have finally headed to Bluesfest.

Belle and Sebastian - dreaming of horses.

Belle and Sebastian's enthusiasm and energy was infectious last Saturday, and I found myself bobbing, tapping and I may even have snuck in a little shimmy at one point. Now to the outside observer, I may still have appeared to be the Brandy Snap that my dear brother-in-law thinks of me as - refusing to let go with anything like wild abandon. But for me, this was a novel experience - movement, in public!

My dance-based week continued last night at the Dusk Dances in Strathcona Park. This is the 3rd year they've run, and I've been every year, and thoroughly enjoyed it. This is dance as art rather than as social activity, so I can't say that I picked up many moves to add to my limited repertoire, but the fun and joy the dancers showed is encouraging nonetheless.

 











There were spooky marionette brides, moonlight-projection based pieces with werewolf overtones, and an emotional love story told with the aid of bathing-suits, showers and sliding about on slippy wet plastic sheets.
If you're in the area, there are still performances tonight and tomorrow, it is pay-what-you-can, and a fab way to spend a summers evening in the park.

So tonight, it is back to Bluesfest, this time for Bjork. Not sure whether that will be a dance-inducing performance or not to be honest. In fact, maybe some of the performances last night might lend themselves to her music after-all. Not sure I can pull of Marionette-bride-with-multiple-wavy-arms all by myself . . . but if I do, i'll be making sure that there are still no video-cameras to capture the moment for prosperity!


(*) Yes, I have decided to label myself as a non-public dancer, as opposed to a private dancer. Tina Turner has a lot to answer for.

Random encounters....

A young Harry Potter-a-like child just ran up to us while we were walking Jasper, holding out a scrap of paper with a badge scrawled on it in felt-tip (on second thoughts, maybe it was psychic paper and that's what I wanted to see!).

He claimed to be a New York cop who needed to confiscate our dog for being too ridiculously cute.

When I challenged the authority of a New York cop in Ottawa, he ran back to his friend who was watching us with binoculars from a safe distance, shouting " we got on the wrong plane, we aren't in New York".

Life is good.

Scrumping....

Last week I ventured out into the big wide world and returned to my cosy nest with a bag full of grapes and a mushroom bigger than my head. And all for free.

The grapes came courtesy of an afternoon in a stranger's backyard, organised by the fabulous Hidden Harvest. People with an over abundance of fruit/nuts, offer up their wares to volunteer pickers. On this occasion 7 of us turned up, picked the vines bare, and came up with this mountain of grapes:

The bounty is then divided up between the home-owners, the food bank, hidden harvest projects - and the pickers!

These are concord grapes I think, very fruity - they taste exactly like the grape juice you buy in cartons, quite a kick. I spent the next afternoon peeling grapes. Well squeezing really. Then into a pan with water and a little sugar.....boiled up, sieved to remove the seeds - and I now have 3/4 of a jar of grape jam. Very tasty grape jam it is - but you don't get a whole lot of return for your labour with these puppies!


I wasn't deterred by this though, and on my second mission, cycled off to Rockcliffe park to pick myself a mushroom - check out this beauty:

Dog available for photoshoots on request

It is a 5lb puffball. And yes, I knew it was safe to eat. According to my research it is pretty darn difficult to get puffballs confused with any other fungi (but do your own research if you want to go mushroom picking, I am no expert!). The main disadvantage of picking mushrooms in the wild is the extra stage of preparation required - bug removal. Thankfully I am not a squeamish girl, which is a good job as there were 15+ slugs, 20+ woodlice and 4 centipedes to pick off this fella before I could get to the cooking (I may need more protein in my diet, but I'm not that desperate).

Once peeled I decided that soup was the way to go, and found simple recipe to follow.....added milk and garlic. Cooked up a very fragrant soup - which looked horrendous! I could have taken photos for you, but I wouldn't wish that on you, be you family friend or stranger. Suffice to say - it minged.  I managed a bowlful (I felt obliged), but the rest has gone to that beloved home of all my cooking disasters - the compost bin.

I'm not giving up on this scrumping/free harvest idea.....but I am hopeful that my next adventure will yield better results. Watch this space.

Just missing goldilocks....

This is not a bear, it is a city-beaver:

This is not a bear either, but I bet you've not seen a cuter fake-bear-with-human-torso-wearing-a-skirt in a long long time.

This is not a bear, it is a note stuck on a post-box.

That is all. x

As is tradition....

Today we have a Bank Holiday to honour our beloved Queen Victoria's birthday (news of her sad demise has been slow to reach Canadian shores. We like it that way so please keep quiet!).

Breaking with British Tradition, Ottawa has organised three days of glorious sunshine with the current temperature 31 degrees with a nice light breeze.

I am fighting back against this mockery of the English system, and have spent the afternoon baking Blue Cheese flavoured Cowboy boot biscuits. As is tradition.

Long may she rein.  

An Easter Sunday hike....

 

 
A morning walking in the woods in Gatineau Park .....spotting deer, evidence of a very active woodpecker, an off-road Unicyclist, second breakfast of Beetroot sandwiches (yummy)......and then we had ice-cream.
 
A fab morning all round. X