Saturday, October 26, 2024

35th Birthday

In my "Traveling North" post I forgot to mention that when we purchased our bus tickets, they misspelled my name as "Grython Fibbald". Seems like an error of judgement, not a slip of the fingers. The "t" key is more than half the length of the board away from "p", and "f" is buffered from "s" by "d". It just sounds like a fake name too, with the word "fib" integrated into it.

People have really been struggling with my name lately. When me and Lee-Anne were out buying a few items to accomodate my family after the fire, we dropped by a Starbucks and this happened:

Brethon!

I just uploaded some images to my Gallery blog of my time up North. You can find it here: https://gryphonsgallery.blogspot.com/2024/10/kenabeek-pics-fall-2024.html

Before I posted it, I glossed over my previous entries to see if I'd ever made one before. I had, in 2012. You can look and compare here: https://gryphonsgallery.blogspot.com/2012/07/kenabeek-pics.html

I guess I didn't used to make commentary on my images back then.

I mentioned it in a previous post, but this was my first trip up North where I had a smart phone. In 2012, I was using a point-and-click digital camera that was noticeably primitive even by the standards back then. It's what I used in Canada World Youth and got a lot of commentary on it. But I did take some good pics with that thing.

 Something interesting I noticed was that during my visit in 2024, I took this photo:


And in 2012 I had this one:

I think this is the same birch tree! I didn't have that in mind when I took the more recent pic. It's not so weird, as its proximity to the house lends itself very well as a photo opportunity. I think the 2012 shot was more appealing, as it features a more drastic bark peel. The most iconic feature of the birch.

You might notice that the title of my older post specifies that I was in "Kenabeek" while in my two recent entries I only ever state that I went "up North". I also made an effort to only show images of nature, not the house and not much man-made (I did show autumn leaves on a small staircase and my aunt's stone circle, if you caount those). The reason is because at this point of time I am a little hesitant to share identifying information. But I've been documenting my experiences on the Internet long enough that there is enough content from a time when I did not feel this way. I can't completely scrub it.

On another note, I hadn't planned it this way but I wound up having my 35th birthday while I was up there. It just made the most sense scheduling-wise. I wasn't going to remind anyone but my grandparents remembered and we had a wild blueberry pie to celebrate.

I'm sure I've mentioned it several times before, but blueberries naturally grow in the area. When I was a kid, I used to pick them and my grandmother used to bake them into pies. It was a fun way to feel like I was part of the process. I alluded to this in a recent post when I said we mostly came up during Christmas and blueberry season, which is why we'd never visited in Fall.

It's funny because there was a recent study where people with ADHD and neurotypical people were observed picking blueberries. The people with ADHD consistently picked more than their neurotypical peers, implying a potential benefit to the disorder. This is kind of in line with the "hunter gatherer theory", which is a controversial idea that ADHD is not really a disorder, but rather an evolutionary trait that was beneficial for millenia but does not serve well in modern urban settings.

As a former kid with ADHD that prided himself in his blueberry picking skills, it was hilarious to read about this, as it seemed so targeted to me. Also, whenever this theory is brought up it seems like people hone in on the hunter side of things. Good to see the gatherers getting some love too.

Another thing I got to do while I was out there was practice driving. I avoided saying the date until now, but since I mentioned having the 2012 Gallery post, I'm pretty sure that was the last time I'd visited. We'd seen them annually since then, but they would come to Guelph. It makes sense, because it would have been after I did Canada World Youth and before I went to college. I expressly went there to learn how to drive from my grandfather.

I tested up there but didn't quite make it. The instructor said that I "didn't make any disqualifying errors, but made an accumulation of minor ones". Since then, I've either not had the time or the money to do lessons.

Until now. I've currently had 5 lessons with a driving instructor and a test date booked for November 20th. So while I was up North, me and my grandfather got to pick up where we left off.

We also met a neighbour of there's who they've known for years but was new to me. He gave us some buckwheat in the form of "groats". He also gave us a recipe to make chocolate groat squares. When I make them I'll post a pic here.

His wife has a falconry license and has tamed a red tailed hawk. I showed a picture of my grandma with the hawk and it's one of the reasons that I have a coworker who is a big fan of my grandma. She was excited to meet her at mine and Lee-Anne's wedding.

Tuesday, October 8, 2024

Return to the Ridge

Being back at my grandparents house was an experience. It was as if I had been there yesterday. Their property sits on the Canadian Shield, which consists of cascading mossy rocks and sparse forests of birch, poplar, and conifers overlooking flatter lands of more traditional woods.

Because of a fire that ocurred about 100 years ago, the area is full of pioneering tree species, slowly being replaced by more long-lived variants. So it's not technically "old growth" but I would argue it counts as "undisturbed". Wildfires are a part of Ontario's climate, pioneering tree species are the natural recovery response, and the soils that had been worked over by old-growth conifers remained primed for their successors. The natural link to old growth remains intact.



It's almost impossible to capture the depth of the rolling ridge using a phone camera.

I could still remember the grooves in the rock that I used to walk. I found the old ceremonial site where my aunt practiced Wiccan rituals. Even after all these years it was fairly undisturbed. I think one of the stones in one of the piles was nudged over, but that was about the extent of it.

I found my old clubhouse

As kids, me and my brother wanted a tree house. None of the trees in the area were able to support one, so my grandpa created a little space in the back of the garage. I opened th door and found this old toy truck. I was too nervous to go in, partly because I didn't trust something that was built to support my weight as a child, and also because I thought it probable that something else had taken up residence in my absence.

This was my first time visiting in the Fall. As children, we would often come for Christmas and in the summer during blueberry season.


The Autumnal colours were somewhat muted, with more yellow than red appearing among the green. On the trip up, we went through really vibrant pockets, making me think that the climate getting colder as we travelled further North was causing an earlier change in season. But then it started getting greener again.


In the four days we were up, it did feel like Fall swept in properly



The house was pretty much the same as I remembered too. It was so close to how I remembered it that I could identify the small things that had changed.


I easily found my way to my favourite childhood books.



These had pictures of different North American species. Each colour was a different category, e.g. mammals, trees, birds. Part of the book was a list of names with pictures next to them and a code which you could use to find their specifics in the other part of the book. My favourite at the time was mammals, I guess because they were relateable. Nowadays I'm more of a tree guy. I would also watch out the living room window at the bird feeders and try to identify the species using these books.


There were also these,



This is a bad photo. For some reason, my phone camera wouldn't let me flip the image. I was trying for a horizontal shot but had to settle for this one with my shadow in the way.


Anyway, this is not an exhaustive list, but these were some of my favourite childhood books. The one at the top, No Fighting, No Biting is about an older cousin babysitting her two younger. When they won't stop quibbling, she opts to read them a story illustrating the trouble they might get into for their behaviour.


It teaches a lesson that at the time I found quite bleak, which I reflect on even as an adult. The story that the older cousin tells is about two young alligators that find themselves unable to reach their fishing spot due to a large log being in the way. An older, hungry alligator offers to carry them over it in his mouth. After some deliberation, the two children get wise to the predator's intentions and escape unharmed.


This alone was not too disturbing. I'd heard stories with villains before, and I knew about Stranger Danger. What really bothered me was later in the story, when the siblings encounter another obstacle and the same alligator shows up. The children take the initiative in saying they won't get in his mouth, but he isn't interested in that this time, and simply moves the obstacle from their way.


The children report to their mother this change in behaviour, who is quite unsurprised. Apparently the behaviour of this stranger, which oscillated between homicidal to helpful citizen, was not based on his virtue or lack thereof, but on his level of need. The alligator wasn't good or bad, he was hungry or not hungry.


If I were to be an obnoxious critic as an adult, I think the story didn't really require the book-within-a-book framing. I only remembered the story about the alligators, not the one about the human cousins.


On the bottom left of that book pile, you have Moomintroll. This one is a comic version, but they're also a series of novels that I read up North as well. They're about a group of not-humans and their various antics and interactions. My favourite character was Snuffkin, who was a nomadic fellow that believed all the Earth was his home. He played a harmonica, which is part of the reason why I tried to learn it in middle school. He's a quiet, reserved type that is still anti-establishment and has trouble following rules.


This series is actually pretty mainstream, and shows up in various incarnations over time. There is at least one television series based on it. I think Snuffkin is a fan favourite too. I wasn't special to hold that opinion.


It's hard to see, but on the top there is a fuzzy book called the Little Fur Family. It's basically about a boy roaming around, exploring the world around him and being fascinated by it. I think the tactile element of the book itself being furry really enamoured me as a child.


Finally, on the right is Eloise. It's about a girl that lives in a hotel, who's taken care of by a nanny, who doesn't go to school or have any peers. Instead, she's left to her own devices and crafts a routine using her vivid imagination. This mostly involves being a brat.


I don't know why I liked this book so much as a kid. Obviously it wasn't relateable at all. I think I was just fascinated by looking into the life of someone who was so different from me. I'd ask where her parents were, and  why staff would scold her one moment then be fond of her the next. Returning to it as an adult, it's obvious that Eloise is pretty emotionally neglected despite simultaneously being pampered.


I was reading this book later in the evening, thinking about the gulf of time that had passed, pondering a life unlived. This brought me to tears. Lee-Anne found me like this, and I offered to read her the book. She accepted, and through gentle sobs I read Eloise to her. 


She was polite enough not to remark on her distaste for the character, mistaking my emotional state to imply I had some resonance with the spoiled little rich girl. The most absurd book to cry while reading.

Wednesday, October 2, 2024

Traveling North

Me and Lee Anne took September 18th to the 24th off from work to visit my grandparents who live in Northern Ontario. Slightly awkward timing, because it ran from a Wednesday to a Tuesday. Not a clean week, but we had to do it that way because I was teaching Safe Managment on the Monday and Tuesday, and Lee-Anne couldn't get time past the 24th.

When I was a kid, we spent most of our Christmases and summers during blueberry season at my grandparents'. In adult life, visits became much more irregular. The last time I'd been up was so I could practice for my G2 driver's license with my grandfather. Well, I never got around to that, so I got to practice some more this time as well.

There used to be a train that went up there, but it was put on suspension, leaving a bus as the only option. For some reason, this proved to be a psychological deterrant and it was only after my mother and aunt visited a few months prior that it felt like a viable method.

I don't know why I let the bus scare me so much. I take public transit regularly, frequently using it to travel between cities. In one instance, I bused through Guelph, Toronto, Buffalo, Syracuse, New York and Washington DC. I got to watch the sun set and rise and move through countries. The Northland Bus should not have been so intimidating.

It did cross my mind that when my mom visited, her house burned down while she was away. So I hoped there wasn't some kind of curse that would make it happen again. The silver lining was that because she's living with us now due to the fallout of that event, we had someone to watch the cats. Even directly after learning about the fire, I grimly mentioned that.

I associate these smaller, Northern communities as being less modern, like a step back in time. Due in part to size, as well as the fact it had been long enough that my memories were an actual step back in time. So it was kind of eerie to see that the go-to way of presenting bus fare was by showing tickets presented on smartphones. Last time I was up, I didn't even have a cell phone. They existed back then, but it wasn't as weird not to have one. It doesn't feel that long ago that I was taking the Greyhound bus between Kitchener and Guelph, and I always used a paper ticket bought in-person. I had the option of buying and printing at home, but I was never that organized.

Also, it's a weird sensation seeing that all these little settlements have been pretty thoroughly mapped out by Pokemon Go. I got my platinum badge for unique Pokestops it was so extensive. I couldn't even win a Pokemon Showcase it was so active. I like that an effort has been made to make sure people in these more remote locations can play, but the game feels at odds with my experience of this region. The North Bay bus terminal was a Pokemon gym, and the community is still so enduringly disappointed with the suspension of their train service that its description complains about it.

We had a layover there and stopped in the mall next door. I was wondering if it would be a cultural experience, but pretty well every store was something I could find at home. Food court had A&W, Orange Julious, Dairy Queen, and Tim Horton's. There was a Roots clothing outlet. The jewellery was Michael Hill. There was a Carter's Babies and Kids. They had a Best Buy and a Wal Mart. I may as well have been in Kitchener.

Overall the trip was about 9 hours over 2 buses. Not too much worse than going by car as I remembered it. We cut time off though, by staying at Lee-Anne's parents place the night before.