Category: Miscellaneous

Last night my co-worker and I carpooled to the city and whiled away the summer evening exploring. Which for us, of course, included climbing things not meant to be climbed, laughing about words you really can’t say in front of the American Embassy, and chasing a grumpy groundhog back down his hole. 

Below is some scenery, and I’ve included a few cool snaps too. Enjoy!  

  
This East Parliament wing provides office spaces for Canada’s high officials… And is still my favorite piece of architecture downtown.

  
The Rideau River flows through Ottawa, framed by Parliament and Chateau Laurier.

  
Another view of the Chateau Laurier over the river. So beautiful in the sunset.

  
Alongside the river, this beautiful bridge mimics the water’s movement. 

  
Where does this door go? Who knows. The graffiti is stoic: “secret” and “restricted” as if officials posted their orders in spray paint.

   
 
The basilica from below. “It looks like Naboo,” said Clarke, my co-worker, and there was no getting the resemblance out of my head after that.

  
At the Samuel de Champlain monument overlooking the canal, friends gather to enjoy the moment. On the other side of the water is Quebec.

  
Street lights and Notre Dame cathedral.

  
After walking the eternity, Clarke and I went to the Fish Market and guzzled so much water we impressed and annoyed the waitress, who gave us bigger glasses. Upstairs in the restaurant, this floating door to nowhere stirred my imagination.

What a beautiful evening… In such a beautiful city.

-The Dauntless Princess-

As a kid growing up, I secretly read ahead through all my homeschool history textbooks.  “Save it so you have something new to read later!” my mom squawked when she caught me, taking the books away and shoving me toward the library for extracurricular reading (she was limited on curriculum).  By fourth grade, though, I’d read all the material.

Some stories I still remember vividly, especially from early American history: the disappearing Roanoke colony, the Salem witch trials, the way the Indians taught the Pilgrims to bury fish heads with their corn seed to fertilize it. There was a charming tale of a Puritan church deacon who pricked a sleeping congregation member with a large thorn on the end of his staff, and the man jumped awake, shouting, “Curse you, woodchuck!”

One of the most impressive stories from that period wasn’t set in America.  It was set in present-day Canada, and in honor of Canada Day, I want to tell that story here. Here is the fascinating war story that determined so much not just for our friendly neighbor to the north, but for us in America as well.

Since the discovery of the new world, the French had had major holdings in North America, including the territory that is now Canada.  However, the Isle of the Mighty disputed their claims during the Seven Years’ War (also called the French and Indian War, 1754-1763) and quickly moved in.  They pushed the French to the north, but Quebec City remained a stubborn French stronghold not easily defeated.  The Battle of the Plains of Abraham in 1759 just outside Quebec City was the turning point in this struggle between the French and British.

The French, under General Louis-Joseph de Montcalm, defended Quebec City with its strategic location on the St. Lawrence River.  Montcalm had joined the military very early in life, and since he was a seasoned leader, King Louis XV chose him specifically to lead the French forces in New France.  Things were going well for him: options were limited for British attack from land, and he had his back to the cliffs along the river.  The British could not scale the cliffs… or so he thought.

Major General James Wolfe, leading the British forces, came to the new world a veteran commander whose father had also been a distinguished military leader.  Having been frustrated assailing the Quebec City stronghold by land, he sailed up the St. Lawrence River and did what Montcalm had thought was impossible: took his army up the cliffs and attacked.  In one night, General James Wolfe displayed incredible energy and determination when his four thousand five hundred British troops scaled the cliffs to fight the French.

Montcalm (understandably!) worried that if Wolfe had been able to bring his army up the cliffs, then he might also be able to bring up his cannons.  Wolfe’s maneuver was a complete success.  The French evacuated the city and from that day on, French power in the new world diminished to almost nothing.  The British had the upper hand in New France. And today, New France is called Canada.

Imagine for a moment that Wolfe’s insane tactic had failed, and the British had not been so successful in New France.  The French would have increased their power against depleted post-war Britain and French influence would have spread – culture, language, religion, and political power – to the colonies.  Wolfe’s victory was significant not only because it influenced the creation of modern-day Canada, but also because it helped the colonies later to gain support from the French during the American Revolution.

July the 4th is coming up for us Americans, but let’s also celebrate today: Canada isn’t still New France.  No country functions in a vacuum, independent of its neighbors. 1759 may have been a long time ago, but the fact that an army scaled the cliffs along the St. Lawrence River helped determine our ability to celebrate both days.

Happy Canada Day,

~The Dauntless Princess~

Across from the castle lies a vast labyrinth of strip malls all intricately puzzled together and called the Kanata centrum. It has some of the freshest produce, best restaurants, and liveliest entertainment in the suburb of Kanata. And, it has the pleasant socially unsociable Chapters, my favorite hang-out spot in Canada. 

Chapters is the Canadian version of Barnes and Noble. Citizens love to browse through Chapters for hours but, unlike anywhere else in Ottawa, they do not greet each other in passing. There is a feeling of solidarity among us and with it a silent agreement to give each other space because, let’s face it, we’re worn out by all the $&@!#%¥ noisy idiots in the world and just want to pretend this is an extraordinarily clean library.

As I wandered through one night, many books jumped off the shelves at me. The big glossy photography books… The super-positive self-help books… Health guides. All the ones I always feel I should read, but leave me feeling exhausted. I opted for Starbucks. The barista chirped at me to try a red velvet frapp and I said no, I don’t like red velvet, and she gave me a sample anyway. I fled to a corner. 

 

A title caught my eye: The Improbable Theory of Ana and Zak by Brian Katcher. On the cover, algebraic equations surrounded two little pixelated figures: a girl and a boy. I picked it up, judging by the cover that it was probably a badly written teen novel. As I read, it turned out to be a teen novel, but one that wildly exceeded expectations.

The plot centers around Ana and Zak, the unlikely couple, and the point of view shifts between them throughout the story. Ana is a rabid overachiever in high school, pursuing an academic bowl victory she really cares nothing about. She’s bitter, overworked, and running from fears (hello, relatable character). Zak, on the other hand, seems unmotivated but is actually living in passive protest of his stepfather (not so relatable, but the bad boy with potential I love). Zak is dragged against his will to the academic bowl and when Ana’s younger teen brother runs off to the Washington sci-fi convention, the two team up to get him back before the night is over.

The sci-fi con sets the perfect stage for this adventure, where the randomness never seems to end and the array of colorful characters is actually plausible. I never thought I would need all the random knowledge I accumulated hanging out with con geeks in college… But it helped me get most of the references in this book. 

Also, I love this book’s form. Structure and organization is so important to writing, almost an obsession for me, and I feel acutely when a book structure is unbalanced. Most of my dissatisfaction with a book will stem from bad narrative form. Improbable Theory is simple: Ana and Zak are racing to unlock their goal of finding Ana’s brother Clayton by the end of the night. It’s framed perfectly by our 24-hour day. 

This book is funny. The comic timing is charming. And even the low humor points to great principles. For example, Ana and Zak are at a poignant moment in their relationship when:

“At that moment, a man in a suit of armor stumbles to his knees, yanks off his helmet, and proceeds to loudly vomit into it…”

And this is just one instance. This is why I have such hope for Ana and Zak. Their relationship was born in a chaotic, absurd environment that, for a few sweet hours, let them both suspend the realities of their lives while they got to the root of their emotional problems. Getting off balance was key to emotional progress. At the same time, it wasn’t the most romantic of times for them. We may not all have our conversations interrupted by puking guys in armor, but the point is, maturity knows that if a relationship takes itself too seriously, it probably won’t survive. If Ana and Zak turned out to be great teammates and friends back-to-back at a con AND still find romance… my money’s on them being a great couple in more peaceful times, too. Life is less about rainbows and butterflies… More about how you handle the pain and the absolute absurdity.

I wish I could talk more about this book without giving away spoilers that’ll make everyone angry. Ah, well. Just go read it. You won’t be sorry.

-The Dauntless Princess-

 

After an unfortunate haircut last December, my shortest layer is still six inches above my longest layer. Braids aren’t possible without bobbypins. Ponytails are still awkward.  I’m working on evening it all out, but it’s definitely a work in progress.  So when I go to the salon every month or so, I’m looking for expert hands.

Lise, a Canadian beauty who works with me here in the office and has tumbling blonde locks, recommended Eli at the Silver Scissors Salon here in Ottawa.  Looking them up online briefly, I found their location, then went on to look at the list of Google results for this particular hair salon.  It had a few relative articles: there’d been a fire earlier this year that had wiped out a whole shopping center: restaurants, coffee shop, and several local businesses, including Silver Scissors.

I made an appointment for an early time and showed up in t-shirt and jeans. Since the fire, the salon is temporarily operating in a spa.  But it was seamless, as if the salon had always been there: no signs of moving or chaos.  Eli Saikaley turned out to be an imposing, tanned man with silver hair standing straight up on end.  He said, “may I?” and pulled the clip from my hair, brushing it all out over my shoulders with his fingers.  “These are very nice natural highlights,” he commented.  I could sense over thirty years of experience in his fingers as he worked. “Ah,” he said, when it had all fallen into perfect order.  I explained my bad haircut and he sent me to get a wash.

“Are you on summer vacation now?” asked Amanda, washing my hair.  I wondered briefly if she had mistaken my age or if summer vacation is a norm for Canadians.  As it turns out, she mistook my age and we laughed about how my clothes made me look like a college girl.

Back in the chair with Eli, I asked, “So how did you get started in this business?”  He looked off into the distance and laughed… at the memories, I think.  He began telling me his story, and it was fascinatingly unusual.  Apparently he’d begun his career as an accountant, but then started working part-time for a salon.  The work, the environment, he loved it all and before long decided to put his accounting skills to use in a different way: running his own business. But quickly talk turned to the recent fire (all the while he was trimming, trimming, trimming) and his plans to re-open at yet another address, 877 Bank Street, on July 9th.  As I listened I could sense the energy he poured into this endeavor on a daily basis.  The fire had only heightened Eli’s urgency; his drive to make a success of the salon he owned was constant and had been for many, many years.

I was finished up quickly and went back to work with my hair styled over one eye, feeling a bit like a show pony.  What a wonderful salon trip!  I got a great fix for my layers, sure. But unlike most other salon visits, this one gave me food for thought, and it’s made the blog as one of my most interesting Canada experiences to date.  Eli, all the best as Silver Scissors bounces back and continues to grow, as I know it will.

~The Dauntless Princess~