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The latest Penny has dropped, and I've just finished reading it. It, in this case, being Louise Penny's The Black Wolf. Wow. It's an intricately constructed book and it's gripping and suspenseful in the extreme. I'd call it a page-turner, except half the time I was flipping the pages backwards instead forward after saying to myself: Wait a minute, did I just read what I thought I read?! Didn't she say something totally different about him just a couple of pages ago???

The first time I saw Louise Penny in person was around the time her second novel, Dead Cold, came out. She spoke in our public library auditorium to a sparse audience of perhaps a dozen people. At that time, she mentioned that she planned to write a Three Pines book set in each of the seasons, and I thought: Oh, good - that means there'll have to be another two books to go. When her fifth book was released, it felt like we'd hit the jackpot. But the best was yet to come, and The Black Wolf is the twentieth in the series, as well as being a companion piece to no.19, The Grey Wolf.

Another interesting comment she made back in the early days of the series was to the effect that she didn't want to write the kind of books that would make her feel scared to go to bed at night. It's particularly interesting in retrospect because her books have definitely become quite dark, even apocalyptic, over the course of the series. From a thematic point of view, her later books are definitely not cosies, although she doesn't really go in for graphic descriptions of blood and guts. Her characters are fully fleshed out individuals: they feel like people who could be our neighbours, our friends, or our family. There's a lot of humour in her books too.

The later books send some of our favourite fictional characters away from the safety and security of their fictional village to interact with real people in real places. The Black Wolf includes several scenes in the Haskell Free Library and Opera House, which straddles the border between Quebec and Vermont and has been in the news a lot over the past year:

https://www.haskelloperahouse.org

Blending fiction with reality, particularly in a book set in the present day, presents certain challenges, both for the writer and the reader.

For instance: journalist Paul Workman is a real live person, who plays himself under his real name in the book

https://oneworldinformation.com/paul-workman/

But the other journalist, Shona Dorion, who sees him as a mentor and also has a major role in the story is, I would assume, fictional or perhaps a composite of a few people.

Obviously there is a real live Prime Minister of Canada and a real live Deputy Prime Minister too. There's a Minister of Defence and a Chief of Staff. There's a U.S. President. And so on. And if any of these people are going to be serious bad guys in the book, or perhaps even if they're not, they obviously have to have different names and identifying features to avoid libel.

I think this is the first book of hers I've read in which a large part of the action occurs in Ottawa. And I have to say there were some descriptions in the book that gave me pause. For example, Gamache looks at a painting of skaters on the Rideau Canal, done well over a century ago, which he muses could, if it weren't for their old-fashioned clothing, have been painted last winter. Hmmm, really? I mean, the canal was finished in 1832, but the official skateway didn't open until 1971. Yes, I'm sure parts of it were occasionally used on an impromptu basis for skating or hockey, but when he reflects that "skaters still glided for miles along the frozen waterway", that sounded a bit off to me.

He goes on to remember his parents taking him skating there for the first time, when he was just a small boy. Which could be possible, I guess, except that it would make Gamache a fair bit younger than I thought he was supposed to be. Mind you, the speed with which an author ages their main characters is a whole topic in itself. I think we have to allow a fair amount of literary licence here, as characters and series sometimes have an unexpected longevity that defies human limitations! Gamache does seem to have a bit of a gift for reverse-aging, though: In the first book, Still Life, we learn on page 2 that he's in his mid-fifties, "at the height of a long and now apparently stalled career"; in the very next book, Dead Cold, we are told that "though he was only in his early fifties, there was an old world charm about Gamache, a courtesy and manner that spoke of a time past."

The pacing in The Black Wolf is another little niggle I have with it. As mentioned above, it is for the most part action-packed, a whirlwind of new twists and turns minute to minute. That I find appropriate for this type of book. But then in the last couple of chapters, several months elapse with the total time-frame for the book comprising a year. That's fine if it's really a kind of dénouement, with loose ends being tied up. Except that in this case, a couple of chapters totally change the course of the story arc. I found it jarring. There was too much telling rather than showing, and moments where Gamache did things that weren't in my opinion What Gamache Would Do.

All that said, I'll still keep reading the Three Pines books for as long as Louise Penny keeps writing them, or as long as I'm still around to read them. I'd also love to read a sequel to State of Terror, which she co-wrote with Hillary Rodham Clinton.

More on Louise Penny and her books here:

https://www.louisepenny.com/books.htm

And here's a link to Brome Lake Books in her home town:

https://bookmanager.com/1178946/?q=h

In his latest blog post, David Headley of Goldsboro Books in the U.K. asks: Do you trust an algorithm to tell you what to read? :

​​​​​https://goldsborobooks.com/blogs/news/do-you-trust-an-algorithm-to-tell-you-what-to-read?mc_cid=79cf372777&mc_eid=47fc6ebfe4

He makes some valid, if rather obvious points about trapping you into reading what you've always read and closing off the delightfully elusive and ineffable processes involved in serendipity.

Here's how I would respond.

No, I wouldn't necessarily trust an algorithm. But depending on how sophisticated the algorithm is, it can be an interesting parlour game to find out what the recommendation system thinks I might like. If some of its suggestions sound appealing, I would certainly see if my library or independent bookshop has them available, and find out more about them.

If I'm able to devise my own algorithm or search strategy, or if I have some flexibility to refine theirs, that's great too. That's precisely what I used to do in my working life as a librarian, whether conducting a reference interview, looking in available reference sources, consulting with colleagues or following up on my hunches. It's what I still do now if I'm looking for reading matter.

Can hunches be automated? I think the jury is still out.

Of course, people tend to be consistently inconsistent too. What I'm in the mood for right now may not be what I feel like reading next week or next year. Moreover, telling people they should not or must not read something because it's erroneous, disgusting, hateful or obscene will often make them all the more determined to get their hands on it. Banning a book can be a sure-fire recipe for its success.

I do think sometimes very basic recommendations like "If you like Author A, you may enjoy Authors X, Y and Z" are somewhat useful. There are familiar comfort-reads and then there are challenging or interesting reads that you'd like to discuss with others and that make great book club selections.

Human reader advisory services are still a thing, both in bricks-and-mortar libraries and online. There are plenty of good independent sites out there too. Here's an extensive one I found recently and really like:

catherinerosegunther.com

How do you decide what's going to be your next read? Do you generally read one book at a time or do you generally have two or three on the go at once? And where do magazines, newspapers, newsletters etc. fit into the overall picture?

A few nights ago, I had a rather bizarre dream.

The scene was some sort of high school bush party. My daughter was there, along with a bunch of her friends. In the dream, she and her friends were maybe around 14 or 15 years old. I was there too, and quite illogically I was pretty young too, maybe in my early twenties. I think I was supposed to be some sort of responsible adult chaperone.

A couple of guys came by and crashed the party. One of them seemed to take a shine to said teenaged daughter and I was trying to figure out if the attraction was mutual. I was a bit concerned, thinking she was at kind of a vulnerable age, but I didn't say anything.

Anyway, the two gatecrashers were bearing gifts, in the form of marijuana. Free for the taking, and toking. Which was what everyone proceeded to do, myself included. I had no idea where the dope had come from, although I certainly knew what it was. But with impeccable dream-logic, I figured that if we happened to get caught, I could plead ignorance of what it was we were smoking, and we would all be off the hook!

Naturally we did get caught.

A police-narc stepped into the bushes and flashed his badge at me. Unlike the poor sod in the Phil Ochs song, I didn't get arrested and sentenced to thirty years. Instead, the cop phoned up MY parents to come and get me. Which they did.

Their car pulled up, and my dad got out to talk things over with the officer. I think maybe he had to sign something. I got into the back seat of my parents' car, as instructed. On the way home, I mentioned that I didn't know where the guys had obtained the marijuana.

"Hmmp," said Dad in his inimitable way. "It sounds as if you might not be as guilty as we first thought."

Mum was not impressed and sat stewing and seething in the front passenger seat.

Meanwhile, the cop had driven off in the opposite direction, presumably back to headquarters. The kids were left at the bush-site, free to resume their revelry.

I don't know if everyone lived happily ever after. Phil Ochs certainly didn't.

Yesterday I went to a book club meeting. The book we were discussing was Wînipêk by Niigaan Sinclair:

https://www.penguinrandomhouse.ca/books/673193/winipek-by-niigaan-sinclair/9780771099175

The six people at yesterday's meeting had varying views on the book and we had quite a lively discussion. One of the members suggested it should be required reading in high school history classes.

For me it was a fascinating book: well researched and documented but also very personal, relating events from throughout his life and the lives of people he knows, how he thought about the events when they happened and how he thinks about them now in retrospect. It's told in short pieces or vignettes, usually only a few pages each. I found it highly readable, somewhat to my surprise.

It was even more of a surprise when I woke up as usual this morning to Ottawa Morning on the radio and learned that Niigaan Sinclair was going to be interviewed on the show, just before the 7:30 local news. It was in connection with some [ceremonial or sacred or at any rate highly meaningful to indigenous people] items that have been held at the Vatican and which the Vatican had long ago promised to return, and now it seems soon will be ... sort of. Apparently they will go back, initially at least, to the Canadian Council of Bishops, meaning there will undoubtedly be further delays before they are restored to their rightful owners or guardians or whomever, and allowed to resume their intended purposes in indigenous life. But anyway, he set things out far more eloquently than I possibly could so if you're interested, you can listen to him here:

https://www.cbc.ca/listen/live-radio/1-100-ottawa-morning/clip/16176874-indigenous-artifacts-held-vatican-museums-heading-back-canada

Anyway, it's said that truth is stranger than fiction. And I guess reconciliation is stranger to us, and much much harder for us, than ... well, most things anyway. Maybe you can fill in the blank?

Along with the Sinclair book we were going to discuss, I had with me at yesterday's meeting another book that I had nearly finished and that I was finding absolutely riveting. A novel this time, by Marie Bostwick, about a book club. The Book Club for Troublesome Women.

It's set in the year 1963 in a new subdivision in Concordia, Virginia, and concerns four married women of various ages and at various stages of their lives. Three of the four have children; all are housewives dealing (with varying degrees of success) with social constraints and expectations, mostly associated with gender. And all have ideas about how they want to live their lives. Margaret Ryan wants to be a writer; Bitsy Cobb (the youngest of the group) wants to be a vet, loves working with horses and collecting vegetarian recipes; Viv Buschetti worked as nurse during the war and looks forward to resuming her nursing career once her six children are all in school; Charlotte Gustafson is the bohemian one, an unsuccessful, manic moody artist who has spent time in a psychiatric facility, comes from a family of means but is definitely the wild child black sheep of the family.

So anyway, Margaret, who is tired of some of the mindless neighbourhood kaffee klatsches, decides to set up
a book club. And the book decided on for their first selection is Betty Friedan's The Feminine Mystique. Some of the other selections include Virginia Woolf's A Room of One's Own and Mary McCarthy's The Group

Anyway, what I loved about the book was how well-drawn and true-to-life all these women were, how they rallied to support each other in their crises, how we learned about their families and their backstories over the course of the book. It didn't hurt that I had read number of these books myself and they had impacted my life too, although really these women were more of my mother's generation than mine. But I'm old enough to remember 1963 reasonably clearly: the early days of the space race, the Kennedy assassination and funeral, and so on.

Of course, 1963 was a pivotal year in the U.S. and in much of the rest of the world too. Real-life people like Katherine Graham of the Washington Post and Jacquie Kennedy and a few other people had small roles in the book. The author relates in her Afterword which of the events described in the book were strictly factual and which were just her imagining of how it might have been.

Marie Bostwick is a NY Times bestselling author, so it's pretty easy to find reviews of the book, questions for discussion, etc. Also this party kit, which could be fun if you're into this sort of thing:

https://mariebostwick.com/wp-content/uploads/2025/04/TBCFTW-Party-Kit.pdf

I also want to mention this book that I read a few years ago, and that struck a lot of responsive chords (some of them literal ones) with me:

1963, The Year of the Revolution: How Youth Changed the World with Music, Art and Fashion. By Robin Morgan and Ariel Leve (HarperCollins, 2013)

So as promised (or perhaps threatened), in this post I'm going to write about how I spent my free time in Salzburg. There wasn't really enough of it, I found, although that's always a hazard when you book any kind of group travel experience. And if you want to explore areas outside the major cities - which I definitely did - I think a package tour like this one is the way to go. I don't drive and even if I did, I'm not sure that I'd be very well-placed to learn about and choose the highlights I'd be most interested in seeing in the time I had available.

As mentioned in my last entry, my free time in Salzburg more or less began following the afternoon we spent in Berchtesgaden. Wandering along Rainerstrasse, I came across a great 2-storey bookstore. Newer stuff on the ground floor and sale books (often considerably reduced) upstairs. There was also an extensive array of those inexpensive paperbound classics published by Reclams Universal-Bibliothek. It reminded me of my university days!

https://firmania.at/salzburg/buchhandlung-motzko-platz-der-bücher-inh-mag-gerlinde-steiner-426368

A couple of doors away, there was also an interesting-looking children's bookstore. I looked in the windows but didn't stop to browse. Then I found a Billa grocery store in the basement of a modern-looking but basically utilitarian shopping mall:

https://www.google.com/maps/place/BILLA/@47.8104204,13.0424485,17z/data=!3m1!4b1!4m6!3m5!1s0x47769079f49784f3:0xf8d6bc8dc87a1d63!8m2!3d47.8104204!4d13.0424485!16s%2Fg%2F1wnbwvd1?entry=ttu&g_ep=EgoyMDI1MDkzMC4wIKXMDSoASAFQAw%3D%3D

It was the perfect place to pick up a few supplies for impromptu meals and snacks in my room. I wish I had discovered it earlier. But the next day I had a full day to explore. Thursday is market day in that neighbourhood so I set out bright and early to check it out:

https://www.salzburg.info/en/events/events-calendar/schrannenmarkt_event_12184438

I bought a few things there. A container of raspberries, which were just HUGE: as big as most of the strawberries you get here. Some fresh bread and some cheese. And even when there was nothing I was interested in buying, it was great to window-shop (stall-shop?) and see what the individual independent vendors had available.

By this time, the shops were opening up for the day and I strolled along Linzergasse:

https://www.salzburg.info/en/sights/squares-streets/linzergasse

I took numerous photos of things along the way, with my pocket-sized Pentax point-and-shoot (it actually has other features too, like video), focusing on quirky details that you wouldn't likely see on postcards or in guidebooks). I did do some shopping here too. At the Tracht store Almwelt:

https://www.salzburg.info/en/travel-info/infos/almwelt_az_301628

... I bought myself a short-sleeved white eyelet blouse.

At this music store:

http://musikladen-salzburg.at/lp-cd/

I bought 4 CDs, focusing on their Austrian section and items I'd be less likely to find back home.

Then I continued my journey to the Museum der Moderne:

https://www.museumdermoderne.at/en/exhibitions#c283

I made my way through most of the exhibits and even input my own very basic little drawing into the Art-o-Mat:

https://dynamic-media-cdn.tripadvisor.com/media/photo-o/2f/b0/89/47/caption.jpg?w=1400&h=800&s=1

... and twiddled a few knobs and dials to get the AI bot to manipulate it ... with interesting results. I got to take home both my original and the one that AI had embellished.

Then I went out to the restaurant on the terrace for a lunch break ... and a spectacular view of the city!

After lunch, I wended my way back to my hotel.

I opted out of the farewell dinner, as I was booked on a 6AM flight out of the Salzburg airport, which was going to make for a punishingly early morning even by Salzburg time, and a punishingly long next day as it's 6 hours later in Ottawa. Also, I still needed to take a short nap, pack up my stuff and finish up food that I still had in my hotel room.

But overall, it was a great trip!

I'm coming now to the part of my trip that I liked the least (unless you include negotiating airports and coping with sleeplessness and jet lag, which I knew at the outset would be inevitable!) I'm referring to the day we spent travelling between Graz and Salzburg, and more specifically the places we stopped at along the way.

It wasn't a complete loss. I loved the Bad Aussee place where we stopped for our morning coffee break. They're world-famous for their home-made Lebkuchen:

https://www.lebkuchen.at

After that, it was on to Hallstatt, where we got a short guided tour before being turned loose to explore, wander the marketplace and maybe grab a bite to eat. We were to reassemble around 2PM to board a boat for a cruise on Lake Hallstatt.

https://www.hallstattaustria.eu/hallstatt-market-square-marktplatz

Now, it's probably heresy to say I didn't really enjoy this. I mean, it's a UNESCO World Heritage Site!! And yes, the natural scenery is beautiful, it's important historically, geographically, archeologically, and it does have its charms. BUT. To me it was too ... commercial? Touristy? (Yeah, OK, I guess I'm part of the problem here).

Part of the problem may have been that we were there on Monday, and for a number of the shops and cafés, it was their Ruhetag. One shop that specialized in traditional dress and accessories (dirndls, lederhosen etc.) had a sign indicating it was now closed "for the season". I guess they must have meant the summer holidays, although I'd have thought many places like that would if anything be gearing up for Oktoberfest.

To add to the ambiance: 1) There were signs posted warning to beware of pickpockets (fair enough, I guess). 2) The marketplace only had pay-toilets (fee 1 Euro), something I could understand if they were at least clean, well-maintained and provided a reasonable degree of comfort. In this case, they were ... adequate but no more. You had to go through a turnstile and there was a fairly long queue.

The boat for the Lake Hallstatt cruise, on the other hand, had no toilets whatsoever, although we did have prior warning about this. It did, however, have a snack bar, above which was posted a notice stating in both German and English that it was verboten to consume your own food on board. Which to me is just plain tacky, especially when the food they do have on offer is nothing to write home about.

Seating on the outdoor deck of the boat was uncomfortable and inadequate.

I was frankly glad when that "enchanting cruise on the town's namesake lake" was over and we could return to our coach and go the rest of the way to Salzburg.

We arrived at our Salzburg hotel shortly after 5PM and still needed to pick up our room keys, unpack and settle in. To me, at least, the day had been mostly wasted; I would have much preferred if we could have made just a short stop in Hallstatt before continuing on our journey to Salzburg. That way, we would have arrived midday or early afternoon and had more time to get the lay of the land there.

Because Salzburg was great. But I'll cover that in my next instalment.

I'll start by saying that there were several things that surprised me about Austria. Notably how small the country is, both geographically and population-wise. It's kind of awe-inspiring to stand at the top of Schlossberg or Riegensburg and be informed that in that direction is Hungary, over there is Slovenia, down there is Germany, we're in Austria, that's Italy ... I'd definitely like to see more of Eastern Europe (maybe a Danube cruise?) and I haven't explored much of southern Europe either.

As far as urban areas go, Vienna is the only really big city, at around 2 million people; Graz is the second-largest centre, with somewhere around 300,000 people. But the Styrian countryside ... wow. So much agricultural production: apples, dairy products, wine, vinegar, brandy and schnapps, and something I'd never even heard of: pumpkin seed oil:

https://www.steiermark.com/en/Suedsteiermark/Holiday/day-trips/Labuggers-Kernolpresse_isd_69875

Apparently it's a good natural anti-inflammatory product, something of particular interest to me as one who suffers from rheumatoid arthritis. Fortunately I was able with the aid of my prescription meds to avoid any major flare-ups over the course of my trip, but I did notice by the end of some days that my knees looked a little more swollen than usual, no doubt because I was unwilling to entirely miss out on anything that involved some climbing activity!

I asked about cider and was surprised to learn that that wasn't one of their major specialties. However, I did get to enjoy some Apfelstrudel - twice, in fact, one of those times with ice cream on top.

We got to tour the Goelles facility and sample some of their excellent vinegars, schnapps and brandies:

https://www.goelles.at/en/

We enjoyed a group lunch at a country inn somewhere in the Styrian countryside, involving some excellent home cooking and a wine-tasting.

We got to visit the Zotter chocolate factory, which in addition to its huge range of quality chocolate varieties, was really kind of like an Austrian Wonderland:

https://www.zotter.at/en/

And then there was the horse farm. I mean, we in Canada have our RCMP musical ride while in Austria they have their Lipizzaner stallions, stud farm and Spanish Riding School:

https://www.srs.at/en/about-us/styria/welcome

And moving beyond the agricultural to the realm of the sacred, the ecumenical, the encouraging of the masses into the fold, I very much enjoyed our visit to the Church of Saint Barbara. The legend of Saint Barbara is an old one, but Hundertwasser, the architect of the church and surrounding gardens and grounds, was modern, creative and progressive in his outlook and work:

https://www.catholic.org/saints/saint.php?saint_id=166

https://www.atlasobscura.com/places/church-of-st-barbara

So that's all for today, folks. In my next instalment, I'll talk about exploring Graz on my own, my overall impressions and the sights and sites I chose to see.

You'd think it would be self-evident that there are gays and lesbians and trans and non-binary people from all walks of life and at every conceivable point on the political spectrum. Certainly they vary immensely in terms of whether they're huddling at the back of the closet, peering through the keyhole or totally out and proud, but you can bet they're there. And everyone deserves to come out (or not) on their own terms.

To my mind, the purpose of a Pride Parade is twofold. On the one hand, it's to celebrate who we are, who we love, who our friends and family and colleagues and allies are, and the progress we've made over time towards a more harmonious gender-diverse society. On the other hand, it's to remind everyone that there's still plenty of work to be done: locally, regionally, nationally and internationally and also at the level of the individual and the culture. Shifting hearts and minds, questioning and altering long-held assumptions and traditions, and so forth.

When the early gay rights marches took place in the 1970s, the common enemy seemed obvious: The Establishment. Authority figures, both personal and institutional. They might be parents, teachers and other school officials, employers, police, the infamous Fruit Machine ... I don't want to tar all of these entities with the same brush, but the villains were typically found amidst those categories.

I was dismayed to see how Ottawa's Capital Pride March essentially disintegrated yesterday:

​​​​​https://www.msn.com/en-ca/news/canada/ottawa-pride-parade-dissolves-after-palestinian-demonstration-blocks-route/ar-AA1L7SxN

Yes, Queers for Palestine would have been perfectly justified in carrying placards stating who they are and what they stand for. They did not, however, have the right to hijack the parade and demand that certain parties meet with them immediately, demand that everyone agree with them and that they apologize for having disagreed with them previously. Frankly they're shooting themselves in the foot with tactics like that, as even folks like me who generally support their political agenda (and there are lots of us) are turned off by their approach.

I really think pride rallies should do what they do best: celebrate and promote gender diversity and advocate for the progress we still need. Instead, they are dividing and disgusting their allies from within the movement. Capital Pride looks to me like a bureaucratic nightmare and quagmire.

Smaller groups within the Pride week events have, it appears, been a little more successful in achieving their goals: the Trans March and the Dyke March, for example, and the myriad one-on-one and small group conversations that other events may have spawned.

Yes, the Pride March has always been a protest as well as a celebration. Yes, the personal is political. But does it have to be Polarizing Partisan Political?

On a good day, Ottawa-Gatineau functions like a single cohesive city and we residents can move around freely as we go about our day-to-day life. But. A river runs through it, serving as a division that is at once topographical, political, linguistic and socio-cultural.

You don't argue with a river at the best of times, let alone when all of the above-mentioned factors are also in play. And when a major international event comes to our National Capital Region, that spreads a whole new layer of navigational complexity over top of the mix. So it was this weekend with the Ironman Triathlon.

We live on the Ottawa side, in the province of Ontario. Our daughter's family lives on the Gatineau side, au Québec. We were asked to cat-sit and chicken-sit while they were out of town. Nearly all of the bridges between Ottawa and Gatineau were closed to vehicle traffic at least on the Sunday. And there wasn't even public transit in the downtown core for much of the day.

So we planned ahead, made the best of the inevitable glitches and lived to tell the tale.

Saturday was the easier day. We were able to take the car, picking up 2 days' worth of lunch supplies en route. After hanging out with the cat and the chickens for most of the morning, we ate our lunch and headed over to the Museum of History to look at the Retro exhibition on popular music of the 1960s, 70s and 80s. Spent a couple of hours there, still didn't watch all the videos or listen to all the songs or do everything we could have done just with that one exhibition. It was fascinating and exhausting and nostalgia-inducing.

Then we went back to the house to do the suppertime routines with the animals and pack up some of our things to go home.

We knew that on Sunday, only one of the bridges - the Macdonald-Cartier - was going to be open. But I learned from Gatineau's transit site (STO) that they would be running a shuttle from Ottawa's Pimisi LRT station across the Chaudiere Bridge which was to end at Station Montcalm in Gatineau, a short walk from where we needed to go. OC Transpo, by the way, was singularly uninformative about all of that. Nowhere did I see that shuttle mentioned on their pages, where they just urged people to keep checking their Alerts Page, which of course wouldn't load despite repeated attempts, presumably because there was too much e-traffic on it! Still, age has its privileges and seniors ride for free all day Wednesdays and Sundays.

So Sunday morning we took our regular bus/LRT ride as far as Pimisi Station, where lo and behold there was a free shuttle ready to take a group of us across the bridge. At a couple of points we had to stop where police were directing traffic and it was actually kind of cool seeing some of the Ironman cyclists doing their thing.

Unfortunately the STO Navette did not go as far as Montcalm station, however, despite what was advertised on their site. But the drivers were all pretty friendly and helpful, making sure we got on the right connecting bus to get us the short distance to our destination. We faced something similar later in the day on our way back, walking to Montcalm Station and getting on a regular STO bus which took us to Place du Centre where shuttles were departing for Pimisi Station.

So on Sunday we mostly hung out at our daughter's place. I sat sometimes outside watching the chickens, sometimes inside playing with the cat, reading my book or the Saturday newspaper, doing puzzles, this and that.

Today is a holiday Monday in Ontario but not in Quebec. I've been at home pretending it's a Sunday, doing all the things I'd normally do on a Sunday. Really feeling I need my day of rest!

I wonder if they'll ever change the Ironman name? I mean, there were plenty of women (Iron Maidens?) competing too; also plenty of male cheerleaders on the sidelines!

Ottawa has long had a reputation for being the town that fun forgot. A boring civil service town where they rolled up the streets, sidewalks and patios at 5PM after all the office workers had fled the downtown core.

Then COVID struck. Suddenly downtown was a barren wasteland, no matter the time of day. People worked from home. All the services that had previously supported office workers - the coffee shops, restaurants, dry cleaners, shoe repair places, bookstores, office supply places, intriguing little boutiques - no longer had customers. Staff were laid off, owners and renters were no longer able to afford overhead costs, businesspeople went out of business.

When restrictions were lifted, workers didn't flock back to the office in droves. Those that did go back, whether by choice or against their will, often had to fight tooth and nail to get any kind of office space, let alone the equipment they needed to carry out their duties. At best, office buildings were converted to something useful and functional, at worst they died of neglect or could only be reached by tromping through virtually impassable construction zones.

Just over a year ago, the City of Ottawa decided it would be a fine idea to appoint a Nightlife Commissioner, popularly known as a "night mayor" and pronounced like "nightmare". Then just as this summer was getting underway, the City even started implementing a few ideas to stimulate Ottawa nightlife. Soon there will be a new entertainment venue in the location of the old Chapters store at Rideau and Sussex. And behind it, in the Byward Market, there's this Night Ambassadors program:

https://ottawa.ca/en/city-hall/city-news/newsroom/night-ambassadors-are-coming-byward-market-help-ensure-everyone-has-safe-night-out

It seems to me, however, that maybe we'd have a better, more vibrant city if we could first realize a few of our daydreams! For working-aged people, nightlife often evolves from the after-work drink or dinner date or show somewhere. I can vividly remember the Tap Room that was in the basement of a downtown hotel (possibly the Beacon Arms?) In the early 1970s, my university days, we used to flock there on Friday afternoons when classes were over, and enjoy a glass of cheap beer. Very often there was a lineup stretching all the way down the stairs. They did a roaring trade!

Besides, not everyone is keen on going out and partying at night. But most want or need to be out and about, at least occasionally, during the day. There are errands to run, appointments to get to, people to see, things to do.

When I first retired in 2009, there were far more opportunities out there. I enjoyed going to museums, art galleries, parks, libraries and book clubs. Carleton had this wonderful Learning in Retirement program, similar to the Open University concept, and I took many non-credit courses covering a whole range of things - Buddhism, detective fiction, wine and food regions of Italy, Italian language programs, the neurology of aging, women and Islam. Some were walking tours or alternated walking tours with lectures, like one covering Ottawa monuments and third spaces. The courses were almost always fully enrolled and even had waiting lists. But just a few months ago, it all closed down, although some of the individual facilitators have started contacting past participants and setting up courses independent of the university infrastructure.

Many things pivoted to on-line only during COVID lockdowns and have never re-emerged into their former in-person incarnations. But hey, I'm still here in the real world, a living, breathing human being. I'm not a bot or an AI. So there!!