three dots …

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The Rideau Canal

As of , the Rideau Canal in Ottawa is the nearest body of water to where I live. Previously it was the Atlantic Ocean; before that, the Assiniboine River—both natural bodies of water:——

Jocelyn

I first met my fiancée on . I found my record of this incident as I was reading through my Catalogue of Days, looking for potential blog-post material. (I knew that we had met in May of that year, but I had forgot the exact date.) At the time, among my housemates was a good high-school friend of hers, so she was visiting for a week and stayed with us. I described her in that entry as pretty cool. (I now have more developed thoughts on her virtues.)

– Revised

Pen and paper

I have started using a paper notebook for an agenda/planner/to-do-list thing. It's been an interesting experiment.

– Revised

This city is a strange place—so much of it is paved.

The trees here—it must be lonely for them, not being in a forest; stretching their roots out and finding soil compacted by cement, soil sparse of arboreal conversation.

Holy Communion on Harry Lake

(In which it is cold, early morning, misty over the lake, I set my service leaflet on fire.)

My to-do list

I have a secret to-do list. The problem with my secret to-do list, though, is that it’s easy for me to forget what is on it.

Purple sparks

I used to be able to make purple sparks shoot from my fingertips. I just had to snap my fingers at just the right angle, with just the right force, when the humidity was just right, when my hair was tied up in a bun in just the right way …

At Duncan St and Chebucto Lane

As I was walking down Duncan street last Sunday evening, I came across a tree that that had a face—eyes, a nose and a mouth affixed to its bark. I paused to admire it and take a picture—but at this point I was accosted by a couple of children who were hanging out in the yard of the house to my left. Fortunately, being accosted by children happens to number among my favourite hobbies.

I was bored this afternoon, so I ate a raw clove of garlic.

That’s all.

Having danced

Whatever is nec­es­sary that such dance par­ties as that of last night should hap­pen again—that’s what mat­ters to me. That everybody should be able to dance with their friends in a safe and com­fort­able space and know this and dance freely and en­joy it and have lots of fun, know­ing that they are among friends—that is what is most worth­while to me.

While skating at the Oval this afternoon with a few friends, I felt compelled to offer an explanation for why I was alternating smooth skating with bouts of stumbling: “Sometimes I space out for a moment and suddenly I’m no longer in the zone! But it’s okay, I just take a moment to center myself and get back in the groove.” My friend thought this remark expressed a truth about my essence. I think he was right; also, I am sure my skates were not laced tightly enough.

I made a remark shortly after I came in the door—paraphrased from David Lebovitz—about the state of the Parisian baguette: Emma is this moment recording it in her quote-book. I am flattered.