Oh Canada

I love Canada. Always have and always will.

 

My stay in Calgary has done little to diminish -- surprising as that may seem -- my steadfast admiration for the expanse of land that defines itself as not being the U.S.

 

This particular city, enriched by oil with little to show for it except a near constant state of construction and exorbitant prices -- is a cultural desert with little to offer a transient visitor other than a visa to cross the border as is the case with me, a year abroad as is the case for hundreds of unemployable 20-somethings from as far afield as Croatia, or perhaps a rodeo in July for cowboy junkies among us.

 

A two-hour drive north offers a forlorn and cloudy view of the Rocky Mountains -- a distant recollection of the 1988 Winter Olympics lingers in the collective memory. Those barren snow-capped peaks today are better experienced further west in Whistler, Canada's answer to Aspen. Still, in Banff, a perplexing tourist attraction where I experience bison meat for the first time does offer its share of whimsical attractions.

 

In a Native American store, a century-old trading outpost on the edge of an icy river -- a tourist trap if ever there was one -- is the reconstructed mummified remains of a purported merman: a feeble attempt by the Canadian Pacific Railway to recreate a myth mirroring the Loch ness Monster.

 

The jewel in the crown, if there is one, is a $500-a-night minimum five-star gothic hotel modeled on a Scottish castle. Its absurd claim to fame is that a 1920s bride toppled down the winding staircase and broke her neck on her wedding day, haunting the place still alongside the ghost of a loyal bellboy who could not bear to be parted, even in death from his beloved employer.

 

More intriguing for me was photographic evidence that Marilyn Monroe, hobbled by a fall, played a round of golf on the premises while filming the 1950s western, aptly named "The river of no return.'' There was something quite endearing -- my apologies for sounding condescending -- in how lovingly new countries guard their heritage. A century is a long time for a newborn state and as such every vestige of the past is lovingly encased as a museum relic behind glass, including a menu from the 1930s.

 

I had more to say but have quite forgotten it, forgive me I have had a whiskey or two to whittle away the hollow hours here. I think this is all I will take with me from my time here, except knowledge that anyone with any means from this part of the world has a summer home in Montana. Now that is telling.

A room with view

my two loves

the third one, turdy, is nipping at my heels saying `get off'

Inspired

Madge and Rebecca threw a wonderful baby shower and as you can tell I for one had an AMAZING TIME. what's not to like? a great spread, champers and some of my favourite girls flocked around me swapping original stories of parenting and tales from childhood. some were cautionary others heart-warming, more often than not, they were both. and did I mention the gifts? and the gummies.

 

B-Unca B-Unca

I would like to thank Maude.

a day at the hamptons

before i gave her a fat lip from getting a bit carried away in the pool playing "chicken"

ready to pounce.

can we enter her for an award?

maybe it's my exploding womb but this photo, taken by Jasmine, just moves me so much. J has been taking outstanding photos for 2 months now in Cambodia. Can I enter her into a competition or am I just too biased?