Longevity like real estate can hinge on location

How long one lives is influenced by a number of factors. Genes, of course, play a big and commanding role but where one was born also carries a lot of weight. Folks living in Hong Kong often live to 85. If you were born in Switzerland, knock a year off the average age at departure to put Switzerland in 4th place in the global rating.

Run a finger down the column listing countries and their position in the longevity sweepstakes, move past Italy, Spain, Iceland, Sweden and France and assorted other countries and when you reach the 16th place you have reached the entry for Canada. A Canadian at birth can hope to see almost 83 years-of-age.

Run your eye down the column all the way to the 46th entry and you find the United States. The low rating for the States is correct but many would argue it does not reflect the reality facing many seniors living in the U.S. Childbirth death rates are high in the States and too many people die early thanks to gun violence. Healthcare and longevity are actually better in the States than the numbers indicate.

Still, for many people, health care in the senior years is more available in many places when compared to the United States. Take a simple thing like prescription drugs. In Ontario, Canada, a senior pays for the first hundred dollars of prescription drugs annually. After that, the cost is only $4.11 for each prescription.

I've known folk living in the States, admittedly not all that well off, who had to pick and choose between prescriptions when it came to having their prescriptions filled.

For seniors anywhere in the world, it can be tough when it comes to maintaining good health. But I look at the ratings and it is pretty clear that many other places around the world are quite possibly doing things better than we are in North America. Hey, 16th position doesn't come with a lot of bragging rights. And what can one say about 46th?

Shorts? Really?

It is mid November. The temperature is barely above freezing. And yet one sees Canadian teens coming home from school wearing shorts. Why? Do these kids have anti-freeze for blood? 

When I was a teen, the girls complained that they had to wear a dress or a skirt to school and were not allowed to wear slacks. They were cold and resented the stupid dress code rules. 

Who would have thought that once the codes were history, teens, both boys and girls, would choose shorts over jeans. Not me!

Stream of Dreams: a nationwide program

 

Why are there painted schools of fish on many school fences? This is a question on the lips of many living in not only Ontario but also in BC and Alberta. Most folk in these provinces have not heard of the "Stream of Dreams" program nor noticed the painted fish, for that matter.

It was 2001 when hundreds of painted fish began appearing on school fences thanks to the Stream Of Dreams non-profit. The fish symbolize the importance of the world's water in supporting life. 

 

School kids paint fish for display and do research to understand how water gets polluted. They learn even washing the family car at home can send dirty, oil-laden water down storm drains. And water running off lawns may be contaminated with fertilizer, herbicides and pesticides.

 

The fish are painted blue on the side facing the fence. It is odd to say but the blue fish silhouettes are easier to read as fish when seen from any distance.

 

First real snowfall of the winter

A hint of things to come: snow. Sunday Londoners awoke to the first real snowfall of the winter. It was heavy, wet snow that began melting the moment it touched down. And yet, by late afternoon, as the sun was beginning to set, the snow was beginning to build up on streets, sidewalks and shrubbery. Come tomorrow morning there may be another chapter to this story and it may be time to get out the snowblower.

A palace worthy of the Roman Catholic Bishops

 

When I moved to London, I lived in an area once known as Petersville. It was a suburb of London built on the low lying land across the Thames River from London proper.

When I went for a walk about the neighbourhood I would cross the North Branch of the Thames River at the Blackfriars Bridge. Above the large wrought iron span, overlooking the Petersville and Blackfriars neighbourhoods, there was a large and somewhat rundown looking white home with massive columns gracing the front.

I have since learned that the magnificent home was designed by a local architect, William Robinson, and it originally presented a less grandiose appearance. The massive columns were added before the home was donated to the Roman Catholic Church to be used as the new Bishop's Residence.

Reportedly, the donor, John Donally of Buffalo, New York, didn't find the original Italianate look regal enough for the bishops of London.

When last I looked, thanks to some creative thinking, the old home had been converted into four condominiums and the structure promised to be around for many years to come.

Remembrance Day: today a jet trail has extra meaning

 

A chap with whom I once worked, he was an editor at the local paper, wrote the following piece to mark Remembrance Day. Earlier, I reposted it on my Facebook page and many of my friends and relatives thought the former editor struck just the right note. Many of my older followers also lost relatives and family friends while off fighting in a far away war.

This evening, looking at the setting sun, one massive jet trail made me think of the essay I've reposted. For me, the jet trail symbolized how many, far too many, airmen fell from the sky, plane aflame, to become just one more dead airman among thousands.

So I am reposting his essay here in hopes than even more people will read it and reflect on the significance of today, Remembrance Day. I fear that as the years pass, our memories of the horror of war are fading. And that is also sad.

From the Geezers' Newsletter 4: An essay by Bill Jory

 

“Older men declare war. But it is the youth that must fight and die.” 

– Herbert Hoover

 

 

Is there an echo in the room? Sounds like it. Is there something reminiscent about this week’s offering? I believe so. Is this déjà vu all over again. Definitely. Long-time readers may remember this column from a few years back. I’ve decided to recycle it to honour of Remembrance Day this Thursday and for new subscribers who didn’t see it last time. Read on:

 

I have been one of the fortunate ones. War has never come knocking on my door.

As a baby boomer born after the hostilities of the Second World, my life has been one of peace and privilege. My generation never saw the face of armed conflict.

 

Sure, in our youth we learned the history in school, watched the propaganda films that glorified battle on TV, heard veterans talk quietly of their experiences and were reminded of the sacrifices at annual Nov. 11 ceremonies. But, and it’s a big but, my generation never had to confront war’s realities on a personal level.

 

The prospect of waking up one day and finding out a friend or loved one was no longer here simply because the nation was at war is something we never faced. We hardly ever thought about the grief and suffering that had come just a few years before we were born.

 

Our parents and grandparents, no doubt thinking it was for the best, protected us from the horrors they had lived through. Probably there seemed little point in reviving old pains and inflicting them on the next generation. My father, for example, never even bothered to collect his war medals. He wanted to forget that time and he hardly ever talked about it.

 

This Remembrance Day, though, I am trying to put a face on war. It’s the face of an uncle whose name I bear – William Jory. Some people I’ve encountered over the years say I am like him. I don’t know. I never met him. He was killed four years before I was born when his RCAF Lancaster bomber was shot down by a German night fighter during the Second World War.

 

From my earlier days, though, I recognized that his loss had devastated my father’s family. My grandmother hardly ever left her home after his death and my aunts would suddenly become tearful if – in childish curiosity – I asked about the uncle whose photos haunted the house. It seemed best to avoid the subject. Until now.

 

When the last of my father’s sisters died a few years back, she left me a touching and fascinating legacy – a scrapbook detailing my uncle’s life of 24 years. Perusing its pages, I came face to face with the overwhelming price of war. A life snuffed out before it had a chance to flower. A family left in sadness until the last survivor died. A beautiful young woman robbed of the fellow who was born to be her husband. A community deprived of one of its most promising young men.

 

The book begins innocently enough: routine pictures with parents, older siblings, grandparents. It progresses through a happy childhood of excelling in athletics, being a popular lad about town, taking part in the usual teenage activities and receiving affectionate notes from a special girl named Peggy.

 

Then suddenly there is jarring change. The photos show men in uniform. Telegrams arrive congratulating Bill on getting his wings and becoming a flying officer. Another comes confirming safe arrival in England.

 

Whatever hopes, thoughts or anguish the family harbored remain a secret.

But the worst fears came home to rest with a cold, informal telegram on Oct. 19, 1944:

“Regret to advise that your son, Flying Officer William Edward Jory – J22936 – is reported missing after air operation overseas October sixteenth.”

 

Still, faint hope was offered. The next day, his commanding officer wrote: “While it would be as wrong for me to raise false hope as it would be to give you the impression that you should definitely conclude that your son is no longer alive, I ought to tell you that there is always the possibility that he may be a prisoner of war.”

 

Squadron Leader F. R. Anderson would write four days later: “It is our hope that some happier report may yet come back to his squadron in the not-too-distant future.”

 

Chills run up my spine thinking of the sleepless nights, the fears and worries that must have tormented the family in the days ahead. Emotions must have run from optimism to pessimism with terrifying regularity.

 

Perhaps not knowing is more stressful than facing the worst news. Who knows? But I suspect few things could be more heartbreaking than the telegram of Jan. 12, 1945: “Regret to advise International Red Cross quoting German information states your son, Flying Officer William Edward Jory, lost his life but does not give additional particulars...”

 

After the war, gruesome particulars would be learned. The plane crashed on the evening of Oct. 15-16, 1944, on the farm of Holfer Christiansen, near the village of Idum in northwest Denmark. The crew of seven was killed.

 

In later years, my father would travel to Denmark and befriend Christiansen and his wife. They would become fast friends and Mrs. Christiansen would tell my father the real story of what happened that night. Her tale of courage makes the blood run cold even today.

 

She was at home alone with her small children because her husband, a member of the Danish resistance movement, was hiding outside the country with a Nazi death sentence on his head. She had just gone to bed when she heard the sound of a sputtering aircraft engine.

 

Recognizing all was not well, she ran outside just in time to see the aircraft crash a short distance from her home. Rushing to the scene, she found the entire crew dead.

 

She thought quickly and decided to take precautions for after the war. From each body she took a piece of identification so she could write to the families and tell them exactly what had happened. These she buried under her house.

 

Nazi troops arrived soon after, seized the bodies and refused requests from the Danish people to give the airman a proper funeral in the church cemetery. Instead, they buried them in an unmarked grave in a field. But Mrs. Christiansen had ventured into the night and followed the Nazis. She knew where the bodies were hidden. 

 

Though the Danes were ordered not to put flowers there or go near the site, they did so anyway. Before long, shrubs were planted and each day fresh-cut flowers were placed there. After the war, the bodies were exhumed and given a hero’s Christian burial in the tiny nearby churchyard.

 

What tears my heart apart to this day is that my uncle’s story is not unique. In all, 41,700 members of the Canadian military were dead or missing at war’s end. We will honour their valour and sacrifice by wearing a poppy and with two minutes of silence at 11 a.m. next Thursday. Yet I can’t help thinking about those left behind to live with the grief. Imagine the suffering and sorrow of my family multiplied by 41,700. Add to that all war and all nations. The pain seems incomprehensible.

London's John Paul II is Canada's 1st Carbon Neutral School

 

According to the CBC, the $9.7 million project will feature geothermal heating and cooling, solar panel covered carports and roof, energy storage, electric vehicle charging stations and more to make John Paul II Catholic Secondary School Canada's first carbon neutral school.

Does climate change threaten colourful fall foliage?

The leaves in London seemed to shift from green to red, yellow and orange much later this year than in past years.  I decide to google this apparent change. 

I discovered that cold October temperatures may be the biggest driver of the fall foliage colour change. Other factors such as the shortening day length, latitude and precipitation are all secondary. It seems no one knows the specific impact global warming will have on our northern forests.

According to The Washington Post, in recent years extreme weather has dulled the colour of the leaves and in certain years the colourful fall season has been severely shortened.

What has infected this maple tree?

 

Maple leaves are often marred by a variety of diseases. Some are fungal, some indicate the presence of mites and other problems can be weather related. Why is this bright yellow maple leaf marred by small spots? If it reappears next year, it might be worth seeking an answer. This year, the leaves are falling and winter is but days away. The problem, for now, is on hold.

An early photo of the Ontario Furniture Co.

 

Recently, I posted the photo on the left. Then I came across an original photo of the Ontario Furniture Co. store.

The Ontario Furniture Co. store on Dundas St. in the city core was known for being a beautiful building when new well over a century ago. 

For decades the original store front was hidden behind a modern skin. Then, a few years ago, the modern facade was removed. Many Londoners were surprised to see what the skin had been hiding. The building was handsome once more.

Good jogging weather

 

The days are cool, the nights are nudging cold but it all adds up to good jogging weather. The incredible hot, humid summer days are now but memories. Soon the parks walkways will be snow covered and slick with icy patches. Joggers are out enjoying the moment.

A good neighbour, friendly community, story

When my wife, Judy, ran low on flour right at the beginning of the first COVID-19 lock-down, a neighbour said he was going to the grocery store and he'd pick-up some flour for her. He did but he would not take any money. So, Judy gave the fellow and his wife a chocolate cognac truffle tart to say thank-you. 

That was months ago. During the intervening time the fellow set out to find a suitable dessert to give to Judy in return. The other day he and his wife stopped by with his response to Judy's gift: a German chocolate bombe. 

Wow! He said this was the first dessert that he has ever made. Wow! Both Judy and I are speechless. And damn it, this thing tastes as good as it looks. The fellow is amazing. I hate him. I'm looking for a gypsy to put a curse on him. 

I try to cook. I often make dinner and I've tried my hand at a dessert of two. But I don't come close to delighting Judy to the extent that he did. Grrrrr. Isn't jealousy and ugly emotion? Now, I've got to go. I have to go looking for a proper gypsy. (Stephen King would understand.)

Seating for three and four now for one

 

Hospitals like the Vic in London have very pleasant spots out in the open air for sitting with friends and other patients who have some mobility. The benches and swings hold three people and the tables have seating for four. Since the appearance of COVID-19 notices have been posted; only one person is allowed per bench, swing or even table. 

Surely with so many folk getting vaccinated, soon the limitations will be lifted. A swing or bench for three is simply not the same with only one user.

When will it end?

 

The pandemic seems to be the gift that just keeps on giving. Soon it will be legal to sing and dance in Montreal pubs but in London patients must still line-up to enter Victoria Hospital. And those bringing family members to the hospital must drop the patient off and then leave. Only patients, and those with special dispensations, are allowed entry.

Running the gauntlet to enter the hospital can be time consuming. First, patients must answer a number of questions designed to winnow out anyone who might carry the virus. Then the mask they wore to the hospital is tossed and they are given a new, hospital-issue mask.

The question on everyone's lips is "When will it end?"

Stairway to nowhere is a mystery

 

This was an incredible wooden staircase, complete with landings and built in-place wooden bench seats. I am not sure when it was built nor when it was opened to the public. And I am not exactly sure when it was closed but it is closed and remains closed to this day. All indications are that someday, when the city budgets for the cost, the walkway to nowhere will be dismantled and removed.

The only thing left will be the question: Why?

Damn dam

 

In use it looks like a flood control dam but it isn't. It's a dam alright but it's for recreational use only. With the gates in place the Springbank Dam controls water flow, turning the Thames River into a small reservoir—a reservoir with enough water depth to float small cruise boats and support a rental paddle boat business. But today the gates are not in place and the river supports turtles and rich mix of birds. The rental paddle boats are just a memory.

The engineers said the new dam with huge, heavy gates lifted into place by hydralics was a great improvement over the ancient dam it replaced. The old dam used simple stop logs. In time the logs would begin to rot and need to be replaced. Not so the new gates. The new gates will last indefinitely.

There was only one thing wrong with the new design. It didn't work. Never did. Failed before it was even officially in use. But the engineers did get one thing right. The new dam was a big improvement over the old, functioning dam. The river, left to flow free, left to be a true river and not technically a reservoir, was a healthier river. Turtles, one endangered, are back. Fish and amphibians and birds and mammals are all flourishing thanks to the cleaner, faster moving river.

It is even possible that the one mammal that seemed to benefit most from the old dam, the human animal, may be surprising everyone and learning to love the undammed river. 

Walks along the river are popular and kids find it exciting to spot a heron overhead, a deer in the woods or a fox darting across the path running from one wooded area to another.

Some folk have even learned that canoes and kayaks don't need all that much water. Recreational paddlers are often spotted in the river starting in the spring and not to disappear until late fall.

Portage season is ending

 

It has been such a wet fall that the Thames River is flowing fast and deep through the city. Usually, by November the river is dropping fast and some areas of the river bed are lying exposed and drying. This cannot last and soon the river will be too shallow for even most canoes. Portaging season for this year is just about at an end.

Oddly enough, portaging around the Springbank Dam is hardly necessary. The gates of the dam have not been operational for years. The gates sit in the open position on the bottom of the river. A faulty gate design doomed the reconditioned dam before it officially entered service. The city sued and won a decision against those responsible for the design and construction.

Mushroom looks like Jeff Bezo's rocket

When this uniquely shaped mushroom appeared in a neighbour's front garden, those who saw it admitted to being mildly embarrassed when they tried to describe it to others. I feigned ignorance at first and then I said, "Ah ha! It looks like Jeff Bezo's Blue Origin rocket. You know, the one that carried William Shatner into space." And it did.

But I have to admit, I was filled with questions about this oddly shaped mushroom. For one thing, why are there flies all over it? Answer: It is a member of the stinkhorn mushroom family. This particular stinkhorn smells a lot like dung or maybe decomposing flesh. It depends upon whom you ask. But don't ask me as I didn't get that close.

I was able to discover its true name but only after multiple confirmations am I willing to report it is called, wait for it, phallus impudicus. Not a great name. Maybe we can get the name changed. I was thinking of caeruleum eruca or Blue Rocket in Latin. It may not be great Latin but it is a better name.

Happy Halloween is the way to go

"That is the happiest, most upbeat ghost I have seen today," I told the gentleman decorating his porch for Halloween. The blue, inflatable bat was also one happy critter. Why I wondered out loud would the fellow hanging the stuff choose these? They were so oh-so-very-cheerful. Almost sugar coated.

He smiled and told me he had young kids. If he wanted them to sleep, scary characters, even inflated ones, would keep the frightened little one awake and they in turn would keep the whole house from getting to sleep.

My granddaughters are in tune with this fellow's children. Happy is the way to go.

Fall colours reaching their zenith

 

With November just around the corner, it seems a little late in the year but the fall colours are just now beginning to hit their maximum intensity here in London. What is most interesting is that with some of the trees, such as the one pictured, not all the leaves are turning. The ones closer to the ground are holding onto their green colour. Why? I cannot say.

A simple display but kids say it's effective

The large spider web spun over the front porch and part of the driveway seemed a pretty simple Halloween decoration to me.The kids from who I sought an opinion agreed it was simple but it was also very effective. Spiders are frightening and anything that brings to mind spiders, especially large ones, is a fine Halloween decoration.

Extensive Halloween decorations: something relatively new

Many homes are extensively decorated for Halloween in London and elsewhere across North America. The decorations appear a week or more before the trick and treat event. Rain and high winds may damage the installation in the days leading up to Halloween but the homeowners take all this very seriously. All is soon repaired.

In the '50s when I was a boy, this degree of decorating in anticipation of Halloween was unknown. A few home had a carved pumpkin on display but that is it.

Some Halloween decorations not steeped in horror

Some Halloween decorations appearing in my suburban neighbourhood are not accenting the horror angle. All things considered, a Halloween with a light touch when it comes to horror would be greatly appreciated. Since the appearance of COVID-19, we have quite enough scary stuff in our lives already.

How the little store stays in business: creativity

It is just a little store located in a somewhat out-of-the-way location. Oh, there's a lot of vehicle traffic in the area but getting even a small percentage of that traffic to stop is quite the feat. But the little grocery store, lunch stop, butcher shop and woman's clothing boutique with gift shop keeps going year after year.

I wonder how many other customers are like us, my wife and me, and simply want to support the underdog? Truth be told, if that is what we think we are doing, we may be wrong. We may need it as much as it needs us.

Today, we stopped by the little store so my wife could buy a fall outfit. While she shopped, I picked up some Polish perogies, some English crisp bread and some Italian dried beans soup mix before we both left with cups of hot pumpkin spice latte -- move over Starbucks.

In writing this I may have revealed to myself why the little store is still in business: creativity. It carries such an eclectic inventory of quality stuff that the place has made itself worth making a stop. Considering how stores come and go with great regularity in the large malls, maybe our local retail entrepreneurs located in the malls could learn from the little oh-so-creatively stocked store in the middle of nowhere.

Fall is late this year

 

Does almost daily rain keep the fall, at least the fall colours, at bay? It's chilly at night. The days are certainly much shorter. And yet the trees are late showing their fall colours this years. Oh well, it is easy to be patient when one is getting old, circulation is failing and the Canadian winter is running late. A few extra weeks of fall weather is fine.

Oh, and about the recent rain., yes heavy, frequent rain is said by some to delay the appearance of coloured leaves and when the leaves do turn, they may be a bit washed out compared to much drier, more drought like, late summers and early falls.

Old and new side by side, for now

 London's old streetscapes are disappearing bit by bit year after year.

When it was built the glass-skinned tower in the background was the tallest building in London. It was all of 26 stories. Today, it is an also-ran.

Downtowns were once more than "destinations." Folk both lived and worked downtown. Factory workers and bankers worked in the same area, sometimes on the same block.

Downtown is actually doing a bit better than many imagine but it is not doing as well as many would like. Whether or not all the recent changes, too often extreme changes in planning decisions, will bring vibrancy back to the core is still an open question. It is beginning to look like a lot of Londoners do not see the downtown as the all important beating heart of the city. These Londoners do not share the city planner's dreams.

New buildings can be boring

 

My doctor's office is in a two story walk-up. Her office is on the first floor. In the basement, there is a small pharmacy. Accessing the front door proved very difficult for many patients and so today there is a very long entrance ramp at the rear of the building.

If I had to describe the two building infill development, I"d call it ugly and not all the practical. The distant building, a small apartment building, appears to have problems dispersing humidity. The surface of the white bricks on the side of the building is flaking, leaving ugly, rough, exposed red brick.

The near building has a small roof jutting out from above the front entrance. The roof is too small to provide much protection from rain but it is large enough to be struck by delivery trucks. Its days are numbered.

Is this really the best we can do when trying to maximize land use in the city? Surely infill can look attractive.

Heritage hill removed

 

When it looked like Reservoir Hill would not support a multi-story apartment building, something had to give. It was the hill. It certainly wasn't going to be the developer who removed the offending part of the historic hill to safely erect his high-rise apartment on the cleared land.

It is one of the largest, most complex retaining walls I have ever seen. It is three tiers high with each tier possibly taller than any single retaining wall in the London area. It is surely among the largest, highest, deepest retaining walls in the province.

This wall is quite the accomplishment. Much smaller walls in the neighbourhood, ones not three feet high holding back a comparatively small amount of earth collapse regularly. Holding back the earth from a hill is damn hard. So far, the developer's wall has succeeded where many believed he would fail.

The second battle of Reservoir Hill

 

The construction of the apartment building dominating this image was accomplished over strong opposition mounted by many concerned Londoners. The rise of land, known as Reservoir Hill, was the site of a skirmish during the War of 1812 which marked the deepest penetration by American raiders into the British controlled territory to be known as Canada.

200 years later a second battle of Reservoir Hill was fought but this time between Londoners and a well known developer. Building a high density apartment building on a historic hill overlooking Springbank Park struck many as simply wrong. They also had some solid engineering worries.

For one thing, it was argued that land was not suitable for such a development. Supporting the weight of a massive apartment building could cause a catastrophe if the right measures were not taken to ensure safety. The protests failed and the building went up and the right measures to make all work were put into place; the hill, the historic rise of land, came down where the apartment went up.

The apartment was constructed on solid land on a site carved out of the hill. What remains of the high hill is held in place by an erosion-controlling wall. Concerns about the site safely holding a building of the proposed size, concerns about grading and for the potential of serious erosion were all rendered non applicable by removing the land -- all except the erosion concerns. Erosion-control walls have a checkered rate of success. That said, the wall is holding up very well.

Blog posts were written, petitions circulated and protests staged at city hall and all to no avail. For more info, read Reservoir Hill: an uphill battle.

A "See Your Memories" photo from Facebook

Post a photo to your personal Facebook page and sooner or later Facebook will repost it for your personal enjoyment with a "See your memories" note. One has the option of posting the memory photo for all to enjoy and I did. I got such a good response I've decided to post it to the Daily Photo site as well. 

Seeing this flash from the past, I realize anew that I just must get another small point and shoot camera. Having a little camera always handy helps one capture those memorable moments, especially of grandchildren. It's a pity that I don't have a smart phone. 

 I love this image and I hope you do too. I'm glad Facebook decided to send it to me. It truly is a "slice of life" image but an upbeat one. Life is a lot like investing in the stock market; it goes up a lot more than it goes down.

A cicada leaves more than fingerprints

This spring these insects, Cicadas, were widely featured by the U.S. media. Why all the fuss? This year the 17-year cicada, a variety of periodical cicada with the longest known insect life cycle, made its appearance in some northern states.

 

The 17-year cicada is a variety of periodical cicada with the longest known insect life cycle. It has earned its name by making a much anticipated appearance every 17 years, like clockwork. But there are other types of cicadas, which explains the annual "summer song" of the cicada.

 

Southern Ontario has both two-year cicadas and four-year cicadas. Thanks to staggered life cycles, cicadas annually burst upon the scene. Embracing adulthood, a cicada bursts out of its exoskeleton and leaves the empty shell behind, which curious children often find and bring home.

 

This empty carapace, a childhood treasure, was saved by one of my grandchildren a few weeks ago and placed into a china cabinet for display. Ugh! With no kids about, the time seemed right today to give the empty casing a proper send off. Bye!

The Slingshot is unique

 

The Polaris Slingshot is a three-wheeled motorcycle. The manufacturer, Polaris, makes it very clear that it is not an automobile. And because it is not an automobile, it does not have airbags nor meet many other automotive safety standards. 

Both the driver and passenger, must always wear a DOT-approved full-face helmet and fastened seatbelts. And since the Slingshot is classified as a motorcycle, a driver's licence for motorcycle is also required.

According to Wikipedia:

The Slingshot is made by Polaris Industries in Alabama. It has a tilt-adjustable steering wheel, side-by-side bucket seats, no roof, doors, or side windows. The interior is waterproof so it can be hosed down and the water drained out via drain holes in the floor.

A specialty motorcycle shop in London sells the Slingshot and with this local availability these are not uncommon on London streets.

2400 years later, whirligigs are still popular

 

There is evidence that early whirligigs were popular in China as long ago as 400 B.C. And evidence that whirligigs are still popular today can be found in my garage right now. True to the toy's roots, my whirligigs, or pin wheels, are also from China.

It is said that pin wheels symbolize "turning one's luck around." If so, these decorative, spinning toys were the perfect decoration for backyards this summer. As masks and vaccines didn't immediately banish COVID-19, a little extra assistance from some colourful whirligigs cannot be anything but a good call.

A monkey among the bananas

 

Little markets are not like the large supermarkets. For instance, I have never seen a monkey, even if only a monkey doll, sitting among the bananas. But the little guy won't be there for long. He's for sale.

Bill Paul, town crier, has died. RIP.

Bill Paul, London's self-appointed town crier, in full regalia and mid-proclamation downtown in 2005. (Ken Wightman/The London Free Press)

Bill Paul clearly loved London. And Londoners clearly loved him back, as shown by the outpouring of memories by Londoners mourning the self-appointed town crier’s death. It’s believed Bill Paul was in his mid-60s. 

“He was everywhere,” one friend recalled – and it seems everyone has a memory of meeting Bill over the years. He was hard to forget and he made it clear that he found the people he met equally hard to forget. He would take a person's name, birthday and phone number and every year he'd call and wish that person a happy birthday.

I must say that I will miss those calls but I will smile as I remember London's town crier, founder of the Laff Guards and a man I will always call a friend. I met Bill for the first time back in the mid '70s when a young Bill Paul was partying next door. The only person I every met who had mixed memories of Bill was the mother of the boy who threw the party. She told me that the clean up the next day was Bill Paul sized and Bill was always a big guy.

Be careful what you wish for

When I was a boy at big family gatherings like Thanksgiving or Christmas, the kids were ordered to be seen but not heard. Well, the wish has been granted. 

Yesterday was the Thanksgiving holiday in Canada. In the States it come about a month later. And kids today, thanks to their iPads, computer notebooks and smart-phones are truly seen but not heard. With all their attention directed toward their electronic time-waster, often not a peep is heard from the youngest family members.

I'm sure this is something that in many homes across the country played out just as pictured. I never thought I'd be saying this but I miss the loud, boisterous kids of days past. I wonder how many other parents and grandparents are considering cutting the wifi for the next family gathering to encourage a little old fashioned interaction.

Practicality Reigns

 

Pâtisserie sounds so much better than bakery. Pâtisserie has mystery. Romance. At least to the ear of this anglais. And most of the pâtisseries I have know in France have glorious looking store fronts. In Canada, practicality reigns. It goes with the name.

But if you are looking for still-hot-from-the-oven cheese bread, then this Canadian bakery in a small town on the edge of London is a great place to go. And their sour dough bread has body, a nice crust and a lovely tangy flavour. Their raisin bread has oodles of raisins sprinkled throughout the loaf. Very fruity.

Sunshine Bakery has been baking bread and desserts for the residents of Mount Brydges for some 64 years. Maybe in the next 64 years they can add a table or two so that customers can sit and enjoy a slice or two of freshly baked bread with some local jam. And who knows, maybe, just maybe they would sell more baked goods too with a warmer, friendlier look.

Growing commutes demand 3-car garages

 

As large subdivisions pop up well out into the countryside, commutes are becoming longer and longer. Not having a car is getting harder and harder. The damn things are becoming a necessity. 

Getting by with one or even two cars can be difficult for many families. For that reason, three are garages are becoming the norm in many new subdivisions close to London but clearly not in the city proper.

For the moment, walking to stores has become a feature out of the past for many London area home owners.

Sod for instant boulevard grass

 

In new neighbourhoods, everything must be done yesterday. Speed is of the essence. When I was a boy, folk planted grass seed and waited. Not today. When grass is needed, it is ordered, delivered and installed with a minimum of waiting. Folk paying in the seven figures for a new home don't want to be living in a construction zone.

Storm-water management in new subdivisions

 

This is a storm-water management pond. These are deep ponds are created in new sudivisions to gather and temporarily store rainfall and surface water runoff. These ponds temporarily stores water and then releases it at a controlled rate. This results in erosion protection throughout the area and flood control with the added bonus of improved water quality.

Storm-water ponds are also attractive features in a new neighbourhood. The environmental benefits are not immediately obvious. If you look closely, you will notice these ponds are surrounded by natural vegetation to provide wildlife habitat. The buffer areas surrounding the ponds are left to grow wild. The buffers are never trimmed or mowed.

Folks in the area are encouraged to eliminate the use of pesticides and limit the use of plant fertilizer. In winter, salt use should be minimal.

One wouldn't think the ponds are designed to prevent mosquito breeding but they are. Mosquitoes need shallow, standing water; storm-water ponds are deep and water is kept flowing. The water from the ponds typically drains below the surface, impeding mosquitoes from laying their eggs.

Society's supply lines are fragile

 

COVID-19 made us all aware of the fragile nature of many of the supply lines serving our communities. It may not have come as a surprise when masks got hard to find in the early days of the COVID-19 pandemic. But who would have thought the demand for finger pulse oximetres would soar and the availability in neighbourhood pharmacies completely grind to a halt.

According to a recent article in The New York Times:

Many people first learned about a pulse oximetre in the early days of the pandemic, after doctors warned that some patients with Covid-19 develop a form of oxygen deprivation called “silent hypoxia,” which occurs when blood oxygen levels drop so slowly that a patient doesn’t notice anything is wrong. Often these patients are so ill by the time they get to the hospital that they need to be put on a ventilator.

An item for which there was limited demand prior to the pandemic was in suddenly a must have piece of medical equipment. As an aging senior living with heart failure, I went from pharmacy to pharmacy in search of an unit. None was to be found.

In the end, I called a Quebec of pulse oximetres. The French lady who answered the phone told me my chances of getting a pulse oximetre from her company was very low. The company had hundred of orders from doctors and health clinics desperate for as many units as they could supply. 

She asked why I thought I needed one. After hearing my list of health issues, she said the units were back ordered from the manufacturer but she'd send me one as soon as possible. I had jumped to the front of the list. 

She was good to her word and within weeks I had one. For a man with a failing heart, having the little unit has been very reassuring. And yet, I was left with the feeling that many of the goods on our stores' shelves could disappear at any time. 

We no longer make what we use but have it shipped, just-in-time, from far away factories, often in China. Our distributors are just that, distributors. Trade is good. No argument there. But can we have too much of a good thing. Have we left ourselves exposed to future supply problems?

Times Change

 

When I was a young lad, the idea of buying dope in a store similar to the store where one bought alcoholic beverages would have been ludicrous. Today the stores are everywhere. 

During those intervening decades, one London man became quite well known for his open, aggressive fight to make dope legal. At one point, he was sent to the States to serve time in prison. Today the stores he fought for exist across the country. But he is not allowed to own one as he has a criminal record. On the other hand, some of the police who arrested him and helped to send him to jail have left their jobs on various police forces and opened marijuana-selling stores. They do not have criminal records.

Dollarama: what's in a name

 

The name is Dollarama and a few years ago a great deal of the stuff on the shelves cost just about a dollar. No more. Today it is easy to find displays with dozens of products all marked $4. If inflation should hit, as many are predicting, even $4 may be but a memory for a lot of stuff.

Ford plant gone and new construction underway

 

The 622-acre site of the former Ford St. Thomas Assembly Plant, where thousands of Ford cars once rolled off the line, was reportedly purchased by the Quebec-based developer and construction firm Broccolini.

Built in the late ’60s, the automotive manufacturing plant closed its doors in 2011 and was torn down bit by bit over the coming years. A solar installation was proposed for the site but the clean energy project fell through.

Possible uses for the land abound. A popular story is that Amazon.com Inc. is building its latest hub on the site south of London. If this should come to pass, what a blow to the local economy compared to the old Ford plant days. Ford employed thousands and paid damn fine wages. Amazon low balls its workers when it come to wages.

Local strawberries available in September

Fresh strawberries were once available in southwestern Ontario only in the very late spring or very early summer. At all other times, if you wanted fresh strawberries, you bought ones from California or Mexico. No more. Ever-bearing strawberry plants have been developed many of the local growers are switching their fields over to the new variety. This fall local berries were available right through September and are still available despite it now being October. Until the first frost, enjoy!