Back from extinction

Sighted behind a London home flapping in the summer breeze.

The clothesline was a dying feature of Canadian urban live. In some suburbs long clotheslines were banned. If one felt driven to hang wet laundry outside, exposing all to the neighbourhood, a circular, rotating line was the only type allowed.

Three years ago all this changed when Premier Dalton McGuinty lifted the ban on outdoor clotheslines by overruling the common suburban bylaw. McGuinty said the move was aimed at curbing the use of energy-sucking clothes dryers, which burn up to six per cent of Ontario's power.

In explaining the change, McGuinty said:

"There's a whole generation of kids growing up today who think a clothesline is a wrestling move."

Hmmm. I guess there's was a whole generation, mine, who thought a wrestling move was a way to dry laundry.

A storm rolls over the city

Minutes before the storm hit, this was the sunset.

I cannot recall the last time an electrical storm frightened me. The one that rolled over London, Ontario tonight was scary. The bolts of lightning hit so close to my home, I live on a hill overlooking the city, that the thunder had not just sound but real fury. My windows rattled and the pens on my desk trembled.

The sky was thick with storms all day.

I wish I could have gotten a picture but the lightning came and went very quickly. The rumble of thunder is now distant and growing weaker by the minute.

By eleven tonight all storms should be past and tomorrow I will drive my Morgan to Burlington with the top of the old roadster stored on the shelf behind the seat.

Tomorrow morning should be a day not for umbrellas but for sunblock. But by late afternoon it might be time for another thunder storm. That's common summer weather in Southwestern Ontario.

Paul Di Libero: Bike Medic

Print out this post, present it to Di Libero, receive $10 off your first bike tune-up.

The doctor makes house calls; The bike doctor that is.

Paul Di Libero is a bike mechanic. He is also a fourth year student at King's University College at The University of Western Ontario. With college out for the summer, Di Libero is turning from books to bikes.

The London philosophy student perfected his bike repair skills working at the Missing Link on Commissions Rd. W. in Byron. The cycle shop was a fixture in downtown Byron for more than a dozen years. Rising rent coupled with diminishing sales forced the closure of the small, locally-owned store. Clearly not just downtown London is suffering from the growing number of big box stores.

Thanks to funding from the provincially sponsored Summer Company 2011 program, Di Libero has been able to open a mobile bicycle repair business — the Bike Medic. Saturday he was spotted cycling about Byron, his shop/trailer in tow, distributing flyers throughout the suburban neighbourhood.

Specializing in tune-ups, flat tire repair, bike cleaning and maintenance, the experienced bike mechanic tows his cycle-shop-on-wheels to the customer's home. Naturally, Di Libero tows his shop behind a bicycle.

The Bike Medic, Paul Di Libero, can be reached by phone at 519-615-9135 or by e-mail at paul@bikemedic.ca.

With one of his flyers, Di Libero is offering $10 off on your first tune-up. The Bike Medic has graciously agreed to give anyone presenting a printout of this London Daily Photo post the same deal.

Now, forgive me, I've got to go and call the Bike Medic. Oh, and make a print of this post.

FrankenBaby

Has someone slipped chipmunk genes into the little girl? No one is talking.

Canadian scientists in Guelph, Ontario announced they have created a mouse-pig by splicing the rodent's DNA into a pig's.

This is true. Honest. According to John Miner, writing in The London Free Press, the researchers have submitted their data to the U.S. Food and Drug Administration and the Canadian government. The data are presently being evaluated. If this latest FrankenFood wins the required regulatory approval in Canada and United States, soon the mouse-pig could be on a dinner plate near you. (Question: Does it taste like chicken?)

A lot of people have expressed concern when it comes to the genetically modified Canadian porker; I have other worries closer to home. I'm worried my little granddaughter may have been slipped a little chipmunk DNA. I can't say for sure but there are signs. The scientists in Guelph aren't talking.

One Dog a Leaping

Dogs love to play catch. And some of them are awfully good. It is difficult to get an excellent action shot at dusk. I came close but excellent it is not.

Someday I'll get a fine picture of one of the neighbourhood dogs in action. For now, this image will have to do.

The best lawn in Canada is no more

Once the London Life lawn would never have had even one weed, yet alone dozens.

It was once known as the best lawn in Canada. It was incredible. It was unbelievable. It was a golf green unmarred by a hole and cup. It was the London Life lawn in downtown London, Ontario.

The London Life lawn is patchy not perfect.

The insurance company's grass was a brighter green. It was finer, denser, shorter. It was so short that a special drum lawn mower — the kind usually reserved for trimming golf greens — was used to cut the grass to a height of 1/8 inch. London Life must have had a full-time greenskeeper. Amazing.

But all that came to an end a few years ago. According to The Londoner the look could only be achieved through the use of chemical pesticides. When the province banned lawn pesticides, the death knell sounded for the famous London lawn.

Greg Sandle, London’s pesticide education coordinator, told the Londoner that folks have to change their perception of what constitutes a perfect lawn.

“There will be dandelions, there will be weeds. But we want people to just relax, they’re only weeds."

If you look carefully at the London Life lawn, you can still see remnants of the former lawn, fine and dense.

The new grass is hardier. It doesn't demand all the pesticides, herbicides, fertilizer and water of the golf green variety. You might say that, despite appearances to the contrary, the new lawn is actually "greener" than the old one.

Old and new: patches of the old, perfect lawn are still visible.

A walk on the suburban side

There are a lot of myths about North American suburban neighbourhoods; Like all myths, there is a bit of truth in what people say — but there is also a lot of folklore. According to popular mythology suburban streets are wide and designed with cars and not pedestrians in mind. There are few trees in suburbia. And the streets are often ugly, their appearance marred by the presence of all the garage doors.

Bunkum. At least it's bunkum when one looks at many specific suburban developments. The suburban street this 21-month-old little girl is strolling is very quiet when it comes to vehicular traffic; the street dead ends in court. Fiona has found that it is more heavily traveled by people out walking their dogs than by cars.

The traffic is so light that there are no sidewalks. It's mostly folk living on the short street that use this section of road. The street has no speed bumps nor does it have any other annoying, traffic-calming measures. The road itself is somewhat narrow and gently curved, this design acts to slow traffic down.

London, Ontario, is called The Forest City, and this neighbourhood is an excellent example of why the moniker fits. The large trees near the curb are trimmed and maintained by the city. The evergreens and other trees closer to the homes, like the Japanese maples with their deep red coloured leaves, are the responsibility of the individual home owners.

Fiona likes this street. Farther up the road, there is home with a rock garden instead of a lawn. She loves it. She thinks that rocks instead of grass is pretty cool.

She also loves that she can reach the court by strolling down a long walking path that starts opposite the park where she sometimes plays. I say sometimes because there are three parks in the area that have playground equipment for young kids. Fiona likes to mix 'em up as each one is a little different from the other two.

Just because a court is a dead end for cars does not mean it is necessarily a cul-de-sac for strollers.