Evolution, Schmevolution

We at PLJ, of course, are huge The Daily Show fans (even Jon can recognize Jon Stewart at his desk, from the Between the Lions promos).

This week will be an especial treat for anyone rightfully appalled at the way US politicians are trying to discredit science and evolution, with a four-part series called Evolution, Schmevolution (the first segment was tonight, but it will continue through this Thursday). The commentary that correspondent Ed Helms makes about a fervent anti-evolutionist in Dayton, Tennessee (where the Scopes monkey trial was held in 1925) was nasty and priceless. And the stinger at the end of the show (“the Moment of Zen”)—an audio clip of a man railing against gays that sounded like ravings from a religious crank from 60 years ago, but was actually recorded comments from a governmental official made just last year—proved that The Daily Show is out for blood.

Perfect Day


Grandma took us to the Toronto Islands yesterday. And what a day it was. It was Jon’s first time, for the ferry and for any sort of ride.
It was so good that I’m still exhausted from it. So I’ll let the photos and captions do the talking.


A bit of trepidation on the ferry, but it quickly faded.


So then it was time for lunch. Whenever we go somewhere new, first thing is it’s time for lunch.


Jon with Franklin at the new Franklin Children’s Garden, a wonderfully gentle place. Not quite as wheelchair friendly as they think in places (wood chips are very hard, and soft sand is a no go).


The watering-can fountain at the garden, which provides small cans for the kids to fill up and then water a large assortment of vegetables, including eggplants (one of Jon’s favourites).


First ride ever, the antique merry-go-round. Waiting to start was hard, but we got the idea.


So this was our next quarry. Circa 1890-something.


He cackled with glee each time we dropped over the precipice.


We rode this three times over the afternoon. Becuase of the length of the ride, it even outranked…


The flume. In line, Jon noted a number of people were screaming and I asked him whether he was a laugher or a screamer. He said he was a screamer. He was wrong, from the moment we started to plunge, he laughed his head off.


A lovely dinner at The Rectory on Ward’s Island. Jon and I were to split a hazelnut coffee chocolate layer cake, but it had a very mature flavour and a heavy crumb, so the little bum ate way more than his share!


On the way home from the very perfect day. Jon is a little fazed because the evening ferry makes two stops before heading home.

Ungulate Fever



I

can quit

anytime

I

want…

5 rides at the zoo yesterday. All but one on Scootles (Sally’s daughter). Thanks to all the wranglers and sad goodbyes to Jessie, who moves from camel wrangling to special needs teaching.

Gananoque Trip

(More about our trip from Mr. Local Forecast—excusez-moi, M. Prévision Locale—himself. Carol and Tom drove us around Kingston so I could see the differences in the place since I left. Unfortunately Jon could not use his portable DVD player (we left the car adapter in our car with Peter); he was totally snacked up with junk food, so he was happy as a clam during the whole drive — L)

Jon

I love going to Gananoque. I saw Tom and Carol. I went for a drive in the van to Kingston. At Gananoque I saw the French wether channel.

Back from Ottawa

Well, we’re all back from a quick trip to our respective rivers: Laura and Jon stayed at friends near the St. Lawrence in Gananoque while I whipped up to the Ottawa so that I could gain more respect for the river and those who ride it. Paul said I looked more confident this year, and I’m glad because I confidently missed my line on a couple of rapids, and ended up swimming a bit. Mind you, never in bad places.

Also tried to surf tougher holes, which means that most of the time I got a good sinus flushing and more swimming. Though I got to sit on a foam pile a few times, bouncing stationary on the wave or side-surfing. Twice my sit-on-top violently threw me off and then continued to surf the hole without me. Paul, Eric, Mark, Ian and Paul would reportedly then make all sorts of ooh and ahhhs to convince those who had missed my dumpage that I was still in there, surfing upside down. The sad fact is the boat did better without me.

It was something to go down the river with a group with such strong skills. Paul, Eric and Ian showed their stuff, and Mark made it look easy. Young Paul Scriver showed me how my boat can ferry with a competent pilot. All of them made me want to spend some hours bombproofing my rolls for next year–I know that I’ll still be dumping– but then I’d be able to just roll up and get back in line. Now that I’ve hit 40, having to haul myself back into the sit-on-top as it drifts downstream is losing its charm.

Mark had his camera with him, I hope to get some pictures of the fun at some point. In the meantime, there’s always images from last year, when I made my line…