A few minutes ago I was out on my balcony chatting with a friend on the phone, and all of a sudden I noticed the owl was sitting in the tree right in front of me. I took a gazillion photos, but I couldn’t get one of him looking at me, because every time he looked at me, the flash was recharging. Finally he got annoyed and flew away.

But here he is, in all his owly splendor – click the photo for a bigger image:

Inta and Sophie knocked on my door this afternoon to tell me about this unusual visitor in the tree. I think he might be a Great Gray Owl, but I could be wrong. When he got tired of me taking his picture, he spun his head around just like Regan in the Exorcist.

Update: Further research suggests it probably is a Great Gray Owl – apparently this has been a special winter for birdwatchers in Ottawa!

So…yesterday was St. Patricks Day. My boss gave me the day off because I’m losing my mind. Here’s how I spent the day.

First I puttered.
Then I went to the Carleton Tavern to have a beer with Orley. Orley makes all of his friends go to the Carleton Tavern every St. Patricks Day. It’s packed with people who have dyed themselves green, the service is dismal, and there is pulsating bad Irish music. (There’s good Irish music and there’s bad Irish music, and this is bad Irish music – have you ever heard Danny Boy with pulsating bass?). Still, it’s important to Orley, who is a creature of tradition and won’t give up any tradition no matter how distasteful it is, so we all go. I even went twice this year – once at noon, just to get it over with, and once at 5 to take a couple of pictures.

Here’s Orley:

Here’s Ralph:

They teach high school.

Then I went to an old age home to take pictures of the old folks celebrating St. Paddy’s Day. Frankly, I didn’t notice a whole lot of difference between the Carleton Tavern and the old folks’ home.

After that, I went to the Civic Centre to check out the Home & Garden Show. Unfortunately I was a week early. However, I did need to use the facilities after drinking all that green beer. I noticed two interesting things in the womens’ washroom, so I took their pictures.

This is the side of the paper towel dispenser. It made me wonder what kind of paper towel events might qualify as emergencies.

And this machine is called “The Health Care Convenience Center”:

Does this mean Canada now has a two-tier health care system: one for those who can afford His & Hers Tattoos, and one for those who can’t?

The other day I was at the dog park with my dog Sam, and Cheryl was there with Buster and Rob was there with London. We were having a pleasant chat while the dogs rolled in the snow and sniffed each other’s butts and stuff.

Then Koko came in with her dog Marley. Koko’s kind of eccentric – loud, outrageously opinionated, always on a soapbox about something – but she has always struck me as kind of raw and tender underneath it all.

Cheryl’s dog Buster is neurotic and attacks other dogs before they can attack him (kind of like Bush, except Buster’s motivated by fear). He’s only got about five doggy friends, so Cheryl takes him out of the park if other dogs arrive. Anyway, Koko and Marley come in and Cheryl puts Buster on the leash and starts to leave. Koko confronts her: “Hey! Why do you always run away when you see me?”

Cheryl very nicely explains about Buster, and apologizes to Koko for giving the wrong impression. Koko is a talker, not a listener, so it took several repetitions for her to understand what Cheryl was saying.

Then Koko says “Ok, I get it. You just never know with people around here, there’s a lot of strange people. Some people who come to this park are gayer than gay and flaunt it all over the place.”

I stood there wondering where THAT came from, since it didn’t seem to have anything to do with anything, and it seemed unnecessarily offensive. Cheryl looked equally taken aback. Rob, who is gay, bristled. He’s not one to mince words either, so he challenged her. I forget what was said exactly, but a not-too-neighbourly exchange followed, and then Koko took her dog and left the park.

I felt kind of bad for not saying anything, but I rarely think well on my feet. (I’m a master of the retrospective “I should have said…”)

A few minutes later, Sam and I headed home, and suddenly there was Koko. She starts in about how rude some people are (Rob). I told her that I thought what she said was offensive. I tried to say more, but she cut me off.

“I call it like I see it,” she ranted, “People can be who they want to be, but they can’t expect everybody else to pretend it’s okay. I tell it like it is. I’m not afraid to call a faggot a faggot or a nigger a nigger or a wetback a wetback!”

She had more to say (she always does), but I didn’t want to hear it. I just shook my head and walked away. She yelled after me “If you can’t handle the truth then you can go fuck yourself!”

I don’t understand why someone who so fiercely defends her own right to be herself is so intolerant of other people’s right to be themselves.

Zoom & Co narrowed the gap a little bit this week in the Dave X Change Challenge. We had a banner day on Monday. First Nancy came in, absolutely flush with success, with seven pennies in her mitten. She’d found five on the way home from work, and two on the way to work. Then Coryse came in beaming because she’d found a penny after a long dry spell. The three of us were still talking about all the pennies when Laura burst in, exclaiming “You’re gonna love me! Look what I found!” And then she extracted a $5 bill from her back pocket, which she’d found outside Direnzo’s sandwich shop in Little Italy.

You would have thought we’d just won the lottery the way we all danced and cheered and celebrated. (We’re still celebrating.)