Saturday Photo: Sculpture in the Spring

An example of making something grand out of nothing:  Glenn LeMesurier's sculptures.  For a couple of decades he's been creating fascinating objects from discarded machine parts.

This photo was taken last spring in the disused field in the Mile End district of Montreal where a number of his works were on display.

And what have you been doing with your free time lately? 

Saturday Photo: Lots of These Around

The robins have been back for a couple of weeks, and are singing away early in the morning.

Glad some things are happy.  There is such a lot of sadness at the moment. 

Of course, maybe it's good for us to realize that we are not the centre of the world.

Saturday Photo: Geese Flying North, A Sign of Progress?

The sky has been full of geese this last week as Canada geese head north along the great St. Lawrence fly way. 

They pass over Montreal every spring and fall, usually  in the morning.  I guess they must have spent the night somewhere along the river and then fly over the island as they head out for the next leg of their pilgrimage.

Not many other pilgrims this year, though. 

Saturday Photo: Rainbows and « Ça va bien aller »

Kids here have been drawing and painting rainbows as a sign of hope in these troubled times.  Posted in windows, they also are something to look for when the young ones are out enjoying the limited amount of outside activity that they can get these days.

These are the ones my grandsons painted last week.  Their mother took photos of them, sent them by email, and I printed them out.  I didn't add the slogan which many are adding: « Ça va bien aller » which translates, more or less, as "It's going to be all right."

For a lot of people it won't be, of course, but if we hang in there, possibly the worst will not happen.

Keep safe, everyone.

Saturday Photo: Saving Lives in the Spanish Flu Pandemic

Because life right now can be pretty scary, I wrote the following for my grandkids this week.  You might find it interesting too.

A Story about How Your Great-Great Grandfather Saved Lives in the Great Spanish Flu Pandemic of 1918

Once upon a time there were two little girls named Ella and Norma who lived with their mother and father in a little house on the prairie.

This is the house, and that's their mother--and your great-great grandmother Mary--leaning against the fence. Notice the sleigh: in the winter it must have been hard to get around.

 
Later a brother named Jack joined the girls, but in the fall of 1918--that's more than 100 years ago--there were just the two of them.

Their farm was near a town called Opheim in Montana, not far from the border with Canada. (You can see it up in the right corner of the state, just below Saskatchewan.)



Ella, who was 8, was starting her second year of school. She hadn't started school when she was six because they'd lived too far in the country for her to go to school every day. Norma, who was 4, stayed home with their mother who was named Mary. Their father, who was named John but whom everyone called Mac because his last name was MacDonald, was trying to farm the plot of land they had. But it was hard, dry country, and the farm wasn't doing well

He'd worked on the railroad until they came to Montana a year or so before.
That's him the middle next to the locomotive


But by 1918 Mac had acquired an Overland touring car and was operating a delivery and transport service all over Valley County. It was a very useful service because very few people had automobiles back then. (That's him driving it with his your great-great grandmother Mary sitting next to him, with Ella and Norma in back with a family friend.)






During the summer he carried people coming to settle in this corner of Montana from the railroad to their new homes. He also delivered supplies and building materials, and sometimes acted as a driver for doctors and people who were enforcing the law. It was hard work, and he often was away from the girls and their mother. He was always glad to come back to little house, and they were very, very glad to see him.

It wasn't an easy life for any of them, but they'd made it through the summer of 1918 and there was a certain optimism in the air. World War I had been raging in Europe, but signs pointed to a victory for the Allies.

Yet with the cooler weather came another threat: a very, very bad influenza. It had briefly sickened people in Montana the previous spring, but suddenly it was back and much more dangerous than ever. Schools were closed, people were told to stay at home, travel was restricted, businesses shut down. The two girls and Mary were more or less confined to their little house and the land surrounding it.

Mac, however, saw that many of their neighbors were very isolated, with no way to get supplies or medical help because they were living so far in the country. So he stepped up, and offered his automobile to check up on people and bring food to those who were running out. He also ferried doctors to many sick families (back in those days people were usually treated in their homes, not in hospitals). And for several weeks during the worst of the epidemic he did not get back very often to the little house on the prairie, both because he was so busy and because he didn't want to bring disease back to Norma, Ella and Mary.

By Christmas time the worst was over, Mac's girls were healthy and he was too despite the risks he took. When he was an old man he sometimes told a story or two about that time, but he played down the important role he played in keeping his neighbors going.

As for Ella and Norma, and Jack when he came along, they lived long and prospered. Here they are in the 1990s when Ella and Norma were in their 80s, and Jack was in his late 60s.

Saturday Photo: The Winter of Our Discontent...

The photo was taken 10 days ago when we were enjoying our escapade in Quebec City, on Wednesday, March 11 just after the sun came out to shine splendidly after a freezing rain storm.

I liked it a lot when I looked at it on Thursday, March 12, but I had no idea then how prescient it might be. 

Schools closed in Quebec the next day, and ever since things have been becoming more and more restrictive--thank goodness.

When out this morning for a walk (okay if you stay 2 metres from anyone, and at 8 a.m. there were few people out), I saw notices on every place of worship I passed, announcing closures until further notice.  That was only most recent of the measures that have been put into effect.  Physical distance and social solidarity is the order of the day.

Perhaps a few months from now we'll look back and sigh: yes, it was necessary, and yes, we have a lot of work to do to bring things  back to life.  But, hopefully, we will still be here...

Saturday Photo: Ice, Snow and Coronavirus

We spent a wonderful few days in Quebec City this week.  The trip had been planned some time in advance, but I think we lucked out since Covid-19 was weighing much more heavily by the time we got home.

Our plan had been to go see the Frida Kahlo/Diego Rivera show at the Musée de beaux arts du Québec. 
(For the moment it's open as usual, although the principle show has too much Frido and not enough Diego for our taste.  The  museum itself is really terrific though: definitely worth a trip.)

Tuesday there was freezing rain all day: at the end of the day I had icicles hanging from the brim of my hat by the time we walked from to the museum to our B&B.  But on Wednesday, the sun was out and the landscape was absolutely transformed.  A real winter wonderland...

Of course, viruses in principle don't die in the cold, but apparently being outside isn't forbidden during this difficult time.  An epidemiologist noted yesterday that when you're outside skiiing, skating or just playing in the snow you're well covered and should present no danger  to yourself or others--only just stay out of ski chalets etc...

Given that the schools and daycares around here are closed for at least the next two weeks, I expect we'll be lending a hand with the grandkids, including doing some outside activities: the idea of spending two weeks inside with them is a little daunting!

Saturday Photo: Heading for a Little Escapade Closer to Home

This photo was taken a couple of years ago when we made a quick trip to Quebec City.  The tourists were having a great time posing in the snow.

We're thinking of doing something similar.  Even though you don't get to some place warmer, it's a pleasure to see some new scenery. 

So we're not going to let the coronavirus business scare us.  Will wash our hands a lot and, besides, we won't be going anywhere that has seen new cases yet!

Saturday Photo: The Cover...

So this is the cover for my next book.  Pretty nifty, I think.

And also here's a cartoon from the March 2, 2020 New Yorker.   The caption is: "You might have time left for one more book, but only if it doesn't require a lot of research.

 It's more or less the story of my life... and, yes, I've got  an idea for another book!

Saturday Photo: Concrete Getting Nearer

Next week I should get suggested revisions to my next book Concrete: From Ancient Origins to a Problematic Future. The University of Regina Press has set the publication date  for October 10, 2020, and now it seems that the book will actually soon be concrete (a sort of a bad pun.)

Concrete is an amazing material that has built the world as we know it.  Things built with  concrete vary from the Gothic-inspired church of Notre Dame de Raincy in France to freeways like the one pictured below in Montreal that had to be torn down after 60 years because it was falling apart.

Working on this book has been a pleasure, and now, as I continue to talk about Frenemy Nations: Love and Hate between Neighbo(u)ring States, I'm looking forward to switching gears next fall and talking about this amazing stuff.

Saturday Photo: Valentine a Little Late

Busy, complicated week, so I'm offering this Valentine a day late.  It was made a couple of years ago when I was looking for something clever to send to my Sweeties.  Don't know if it's clever but it lifted my spirits when I came across it this week.

Remember: the flowers will come, sooner or later1

Saturday Photo: A Walk in the Snow

Well, actually the photo was taken some time ago, after another winter storm, but today when I was out I forgot my camera, so it will have to suffice.

Lots of snow, and now the glorious, cold sunshine that often follows is upon us.  Makes everything lovely, particularly if you go out only because you want to...

Enjoy yourself today.

Saturday Photo: January Morning...

The stark beauty of winter, with, thank goodness, the promise of lengthening days.

The sun is coming up about 7:15 these days, which means that there's a hint of light in the sky when I get up an hour earlier.  That seems so hopeful in this winter of our discontent.

Got to keep an eye on the sunny side, or it would be so easy to go under in the sea of political and social bad news.

Saturday Photo: Getting Itchy Feet...Need to Start Travel Plans

Last Monday was supposedly Blue Monday, the most depressing day of the year.  Well, my mother always said that January was the longest month of the year, and perhaps its third Monday is indeed a down day for a lot of people.

It turns out, of course, that the whole idea of Blue Monday was dreamed up by a travel agency.

But nevertheless the gray weather we're having now (a lot of snow would be much more fun!) has got me thinking about travel.

The photo was taken nearly 20 years ago when I began my travels.  It's of Canada geese in the Royal Gardens at Kew, and I was working on my first non-fiction book Recreating Eden: A Natural History of Botanical Gardens.     Now I'm thinking of going on the road for another non-fiction book--my eighth--which will be about how people have coped with fluctuating sea level over time.  The place I'm headed is Indonesia, where the government is planning to move the capital from Jakarta to another island to remove the low-lying city from being drowned.

I had hoped to go sometime this spring, but for various reasons it looks like I won't go before September.  But it's going to be fun to plan as this winter rolls on.

Saturday Photo: Okay, It's Cold

...and it may be colder in the Prairies and, good heavens, what about the snow in Newfoundland, but it's pretty frosty here too.

Just came in.  Think I'll stay in for a while....

Saturday Photo: Oldness, Beauty and Keeping Busy

John McPhee, one of my favourite writers, has a lovely piece in The New Yorker this week. 

In it he writes about a meeting with the novelist Thornton Wilder when he was a young man, at a time when Wilder's reputation was near its height.

McPhee was astounded to learn that Wilder, then 66,  was spending his days cataloguing the plays of Lope de Vega who wrote some eighteen hundred full-length plays of which 431 survive. He writes: Callowly, I asked him, “Why would anyone want to do that?”

McPhee's question infuriated Wilder, and their meeting thereafter was not a cordial one.  Nevertheless, the young McPhee thought "the question deserved an answer. And I couldn’t imagine what it might be."

But, he continues, "I can now. I am eighty-eight years old at this writing, and I know that those four hundred and thirty-one plays were serving to extend Thornton Wil­der’s life. Reading them and cataloguing them was something to do, and do, and do. It beat dying. It was a project meant not to end."

 And I understand that now.  Keeping busy, being curious, doing those interesting  and perhaps necessary things are what keeps some of us going.

But, you may ask, do these two photos have to do with that.  The sleek and sensuous one is one by Edward Weston, taken in the fullness of his genius.  The other is of two red peppers I baked not long ago in order to have roasted pimento for some dish I intended to cook.  Both photos, I think, are quite lovely, but one represents youthful talent and joy and the other, what happens as we age. 

Saturday Photo: Against War in Iraq 17 Years Ago, at -26 C (-14.8 F)

Must credit Jacques Sabourin for this photo taken February 15, 2003 when something like 200,000 people turned out in Montreal to protest again a war in Iraq.

We were there, and I've never been prouder to be Canadian, because this march probably tipped the scales against Canadian involvement in that stupid affair.  The march last September against climate change was bigger, but, let's face it, it's a lot harder to protest when your breath is freezing on your face.

Unfortunately we may be back where we started.  I've spent far too much of my life protesting war, yet if something is organized soon, count me in.  The US strike that killed Qassem Soleimani was ill advised, making things a whole lot worse.  Furthermore, reaction to it is going to sap energy that might be better expended in getting a Democrat elected to succeed Donald Trump as president of the US.

Of course, that's part of the strategy you may be sure.  Thanks to John Deering of the Arkansas Democrat-Gazette for the telling cartoon.

Saturday Photo: Concrete Really Is the Rock of Ages, until It Isn't

This is what Montreal's Turcot Interchange looked in late 2018, when it was being torn down.

The design of this elevated stretch of highway probably wasn't the best to begin with, but with time, road de-icing salt, and our weather, it was in very bad shape.  Almost all of it has been replaced after years of work.  What remains is a bad memory of how wrong and careless we can be with what we build.

I include the photo today because after several days of intense family and feasting, I'm back to work on my next book, Rock of Ages: How Concrete Built the World as We Know It, which the University of Regina Press will bring out next fall. My task is to update the manuscript before January 6, but, as usual, I've found a whole lot of ways to make it better... Must get back to work.

Saturday Photo: Natural Trees....

This photo shows why I chose this tree for a Christmas tree:  the pine cones.

Of course, I wasn't the only one doing the choosing, but nobody objected to what seems to me this delightful bit of nature.

We've always bought natural trees, which the David Suzuki Foundation says are more environmentally friendly than artificial ones, particularly when they're bought from local producers. 

The city of Montreal will pick them up for composting on Monday, Jan.13, 2020 in our neighborhood, which also is pretty good too. 

Saturday Photo: The Morning Rush Hour in Outremont, Version One

The photo was taken about 8 a.m. last Thursday, when folks were cutting through Parc St-Viateur near our house on their way to where ever.  No crowds, but they were hurrying through the snow-bedecked park anyway.

When we went looking for a house, decades ago, I decided that we shouldn't buy anything that would require a commute for my old man by any other means than foot.  Too stressful, not good for his health for many reasons.  These folks seem to think the same.  A good strategy!

PS At the moment it is raining, and the snow is just about all gone.  Still not bad walking, though.