Friday, November 13th, 2020

Mont Ham, Parc RΓ©gional du Quebec

For my birthday I took the kids out of school. I do this every year because, as far as my kids are concerned, my birthday is more important than any national or religious holiday. It’s true for them, of course. They’d be fine if Christ never rose or fell or if Quebec was still a French colony or if women never got the right to vote. But if I had not birthed them? Woe! My children are realists. Martin is the most likely (read: only) candidate for father, but, again, without the advent of genetic testing in the 1950s (and you can celebrate National DNA Day on April 25th!) there’d never be any proof of this. Therefore, despite his unconditional love and utter devotion to their health and well-being and his wonderful presence, he’s just simply not quite as important as I am. Yes, here I am, the most important person on planet Earth, a densely-peopled planet three rocks out from the Sun. I don’t actually do anything to encourage this feeling in my kids. In fact, I think all kids feel this way about their moms.

 

So, for my birthday, I took advantage of the fact that I’m an important person. I took my children up Mont Ham. We went up the steepest wayβ€” the red trail on the map (below)β€” and it was wonderfully steep. Due to the steepness, I had planned on taking another trail down. However, due to the late start, we were still on the mountain side when the sun began to set in the late-afternoon, mid-November way it does. For this reason, we also went down the not-as-wonderful-on-the-way-down-extremely-steep red trail. We were, in fact, still on a quite steep part of the mountain side when the sun was well over the horizon. That’s when I turned on my head lamp and gave profuse thanks to whomever it was who decided to mark the trail with reflective trail markers. That was probably the best surprise of my birthday. In fact, I’d say that reflective trail markers were the best surprise of the entire year. Heck, reflective trail markers were quite possibly the best surprise of the decade. What a wonderful, wonderful birthday present.

 

Here are my two side-kicks at the summit. It was quite windy, as summits are.

There was a lot of snow blowing around, but it didn’t seem to land on anything.

 

 

 

 

 

Mont Ham Quebec

Sunday, November 8th, 2020

Weasel in the wabbit house, go weasel, go! We don’t want a weasel here, no no no!

A weasel got in. First ate attacked some small round bunnies. After that, it ate an entire litter of babies. When it got a large rabbit, leaving a hole at the back of the neck and leaving the rabbit intact inside the fence, we knew it was a weasel. There is no way of weasel-proofing the colony. Most of the largest buns went off to freezer camp. Tucker is now a single papa of seven small porch rabbits. Clover and one female rabbit remain down below, to be taken in to a secure location at night and let out during the day. I don’t know what we’ll do next year. We shall see what happens when the time comes.

 

 

Thursday, November 5th, 2020

House of the Candy Faerie

It was dark by the time Iris located the perfect place:

west down rue King, through the woods, across the creek where the bones were,

up the ravine, over the field, into a ditch, and under the root of a fallen tree.

Perfect. It was perfect. The lollipop lamps illuminated when we pushed them in the earth.

 

 

 

 

Previous Candy Faerie Houses:

2017

2019

 

Sunday, November 1st, 2020

Whatever became of Iris’s turkeys, anyhow?*

 

 

In the above photo,

the little girl has a look upon her face that suggests she has just learned, mid-mouthful,

that she eating a friend of hers.

 

In the original 46-year-old photo, below,

the expression on the face of the little girl shows that she is completely oblivious

to the fact that her mother may have just fed her the leg of one of her playmates.

 

 

 

 

 

*Due to a series of unfortunate events, this year’s American Thanksgiving Turkey was, instead, consumed the day after Halloween, making it a Day of the Dead Turkey.