Eerie...

So I took Sophie out for another walk today (and forgot my camera, of course). I horribly cruel - she's going to get used to getting walks every couple of weeks, and then I'm going to leave. I went out in a different direction again (I was checking where the used bookstore was), and came across a little park. I'd seen it before, but I hadn't seen the plaque. So I dragged Sophie over to the plaque and read it. It opened with an announcement of the park's name and who provided funds for it, and then the next part referred to "Canada Company Burying Ground". That seemed a little odd for a park, so kept reading. Turns out that the land was the original cemetary, but when the new one was opened most of the people buried there were moved to the new one.

Hold on just a minute - most?!

Turns out that, yes, it is indeed most. The final explanation given was that, although there are no gravestones in the park anymore it is believed that there are still some bodies interred there, and the suggestion was given that the reader spare a thought for them.

Of course, I got jolted back to the real world soon enough. When taking Sophie back across the highway she sat down and waited right at the corner of the road. Far enough back that she wasn't hurt at all by the truck that zoomed by, but boy was she scared.

Mother Nature is Beating Me Up

So being quite dedicated to my bike (read: lazy) I decided to bike home today despite the heavy wind warnings from Environment Canada (I think the wind was down to a steady 50 km/h with gusts in the mid-sixties). I was ok leaving work, and then turned so I was biking across the wind. I work out where it's open enough that I get major cross-winds. When I hit the main highway I'd say I was a good 20 degrees off of vertical just to stay upright. I even managed to keep moving forwards when I turned into the wind. Things were going well.

Unfortunately (and you all knew that that was coming, even without the title), I had problems with the cross wind. I reached the part which is less industrial park and more just outskirts of town (or whatever the town equivalent of suburbs are) without too many problems. However, after the traffic light and the second time when I was almost blown into the curb, I decided that enough was enough. However, a victory apparently wasn't good enough for the weather. I signalled a stop and hopped onto the curb.

I actually hopped rather quickly onto the curb. You know, like when a fire truck comes by. Put one foot on the curb, pull the other leg up and over the bike then pull the bike after the outside leg. Notice that I skipped the "move the outside leg out of the way" step. It never really occured to me before that this was a step. However, I never brought the end of the handle of my bike up into my knee as it was coming down before.

Oh well, live and learn

Wish I'd had a Camera

On my way home tonight I decided to get somewhat lost. Now, in Goderich this takes some doing (by the way though, I actually succeeded! I thought I was getting more lost and ended up heading home. I'm so proud of myself). And, of course, we need to take into consideration the fact that I'm lazy. So my technique involves missing a turn or two going home, rather than going in the wrong direction. I must say though, that this works quite nicely, because all the best places to get lost are in that direction - the river and the lake are both past where I'm staying if we're talking relative to where I work.

This trick worked quite well today. I turned off the highway early and just kept riding towards the lake. It's a perfect day to stand at the top of the bluff and look out over Lake Huron. It was grey and somewhat misty all day - I even used my light on the ride home, not that I think it actually made me any more visible. Somewhat dreary days apparently make for the best time to look out at the lake. From a distance it was difficult to see where the water met the sky. But from atop the bluff the water took on delicate turquoise and blue colours, and lapped calmly at exposed sandbars and old shipwrecks - a beautiful contrast to Wednesday when the waves had stirred up the bottom enough to make the water cloudy and more of a grey as the waves battered the shore.

I really wished I'd had a camera so I could share this with you. But it's probably better that I didn't. Now I have to properly remember.

City Kid

So I was out at the track running some tests today. We're right at the edge of town. Fairly literally actually... to the North it's semi-industrial park, to the South and East it's fields and bush. It's just open enough to make me FREEZE while I was out there, this being the cold time of year - just warm enough to be damp, and we're still used to summer.

So anyway, I was out at the track when I hear a sudden bang. I wasn't too worried about it, because we weren't running a test at the moment, we were in fact backing the graders up after running a test. However it's still not normally a good thing, and this was from the direction of the bush - the only thing between me and it was graders, so I couldn't think what else could have caused it. I asked the test engineer, who looked markedly unworried (another good sign). I'm sure he was amused when he told me what the noise was.

Hunters.

Sorry, No Pictures

You'll understand why in a bit.

For those of you who like visuals: remember Sophie? The cute little dal-lab that I'm living with this term? The one whose neuron is probably in danger of dying of loneliness? Yes, that one.

See, one of the reasons that she isn't the brightest, despite having some lab, is that her mother died while giving birth. This may have resulted in some brain damage in Sophie. That's not certain, but what we do know is that it resulted in Sophie being bottle fed. (As an aside: the woman who raised her as a puppy lost only one from the litter of nine. Rather impressive.) One (very noticable) side effect of Sophie being bottle fed, is that she doesn't sprawl the way most dogs do. She is quite comfortable lying on her side, or with her legs crossing over each other. If you look you can see how she would have been held as a puppy in her relaxed postures now. She's also comfortable pressing up against people. Quite comfortable doing so. Perhaps more comfortable with it than the people (such as me) are.

I'd show you a picture of Sophie deciding that standing with her forelegs on my lap, hindquarters curled up on the couch, head pushing against mine, was a good way to get attention. Unfortunately, that would have required me being able to get up and get ahold of the camera.

Best. Toy. Ever.

The beach here is rather cool. It has a nice playground. There's a little wakeboard toy which is a metal board on a flexible base, so it wobbles around. Looks very fun. Even better, there's this.
It digs in the sand. You sit on the yellow seat, and the whole mechanism pivots around the centre post. The digging itself is a five-bar, two input. Grab the two handles, and move them forwards and back to move and pivot the scoop.

Any ideas on how much it would take to get one of these for a backyard?

As I am now, so you will be

I'm trying to make good use of my time here in Goderich for the workterm. I've gone swimming once (cold) and intend to do so again (I never claimed that I was sensible). I also went out with one of my landlords' dogs this morning along a walking trail that goes over the river across the old CPR bridge.

It's quite the nice trail, old rail beds tend to be great for lazy people like me (when I have a purse and a dog I never feel like doing anything interesting, those two take up all my energy and strength). I went as far as the tomb of "Tiger" Dunlop (Dr. William Dunlop), one of the founders of the Canada Company. He and John Galt had a lot to do with the founding of the town of Goderich, as the port was developed for the settlers on the lands of the Canada Company.

Because of this history the tomb is something of a known attraction. Off the trail there is a little path leading up the hill.

After the level trail with fine gravel this little path with just dust and larger stones seems out-of-the way and untended. (Unless you're a lot more of a city kid than I am it's not). But once you get up to the top of the path there's a grassy clearing with a few pine trees. You can see that people obviously come up there not infrequently, because the grass is worn in a narrow band leading to a couple of benches set up by the tomb itself.

I read the plaque and took a little break, gave the dog some water and had some myself. I didn't sit though. I've never really been one to take long walks in graveyards, around the earthly remains of people I never knew. It set me to thinking - How would I feel if I knew that, after my death, my grave became what is essentially a minor tourist attraction? Are we showing respect or a lack thereof for Tiger Dunlop by trekking out to his lonely tomb and reading the plaque? He was more than incompetence and mismanagement, more than a town founder and politian. As I am now, so once was he. But just who am I?