You may have heard since last night we have had three earthquakes of magnitude over 7!!
The only one we felt here was at about 2:30 am last night. It woke me up and lasted I’d say 8 seconds. Short, but it seems forever when it happens. That one was over 90km east of Te Araroa on the East Cape. That would be over 800km from our place and yet we felt it quite strong.

There has been no report of damage anywhere, there was a warning of possible tsunami after the last one that was first reported to be 8 in magnitude. They were all under water. I gather the tsunami warning reached Hawaii!!! False alarm, no tsunami in the end.

Well that was our excitement for the day.  Beautiful day it is again.

I’d say we’ll keep you posted but the news goes so fast today you’d hear about it before we get to our computer!

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Around midnight we were awoken by snow removal in the parking lot. The snow had been piled extraordinarily high in one corner of the lot considering what I thought was overall an inconsequential amount of snow this winter. The noise was repetitive and jarring. It was useless pretending the sound could be ignored. I got up and fussed on the computer for about an hour, sipping a coffee. It marked the third night in a row I have arisen from my lair in the middle of the night.  Clearly it doesn’t matter a damn, I have nothing else to do.  But I attempted to straighten the crook of affairs by rendering to it some definition, some clarity, some revelation of purpose.

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As much as I adore Canada and Canadians; as much as I am proud of my birth in Montréal, Québec (which in my mind legitimizes me as a Québecois with the same singularity as my sister enjoys for having been born in England). And as much as I am insurpassably proud of my Loyalist legacy on my father’s side of the family from New England to New Brunswick; and of the American relationships from Massachusetts to Michigan to California on my mother’s side of the family; and of the depth of real Ottawa blood and the Franco-Ontarian heritage in my partner and his family. As much as all this, I’m pleased that today we began in earnest the investigation of where to overwinter south of the 49th Parallel beginning next November 1st until the following April. Not only can I bear the deprivation of winter; but more importantly and more bluntly, time is running out.

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Shortly after one o’clock this morning I accepted that I could no longer sleep.  I was never one for a deep or long slumber.  What I recall more precisely is going to bed late and getting up early.  The routine was normally bedtime after 1:00 am then arising sharply at 7:00 am, at least that was when the clock radio alarm went off and I conditioned myself to haul myself out of the sack onto the floor.  In the days when I had my little French bulldog Monroe we would lie on the floor in the television room, my head on a pillow, Monroe cuddled in my arm, as I flipped channels.  When at last it came time to go to bed I’d let Monroe out the front door to void his bladder, then we’d go back upstairs, each to his own bed.  In the morning the same ceremony was repeated and the day began.

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I went to bed last night shortly before or after 9:00 o’clock.  I awoke around 2:30 am, got up, took my usual collection of pills, then went back to bed.  But I couldn’t sleep. I kept thinking about bicycling. I knew the weather, though terribly cold, would be dry and sunny.  Overnight I had heard the wind howling about the building. My iPhone told me we could expect total sunshine today.  At 4:30 am I got out of bed, collected my clothes and headed to the living area to dress and prepare myself for an early morning drive. Until the sun rose it would be an ideal time for a drive. Or, as I prefer to envisage it, a flight in the Aviator!

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Listening to CBC radio this afternoon while driving to Stittsville for my daily car wash, the announcer reported that a snow squall was expected.

A snowsquall, or snow squall, is a sudden moderately heavy snow fall with blowing snow and strong, gusty surface winds. It is often referred to as a whiteout and is similar to a blizzard but is localized in time or in location and snow accumulations may or may not be significant…snowsqualls are very dangerous for motorists and airplanes or generally any traveler unfortunate enough to get stuck in one. The change in conditions is very sudden, and slippery conditions and abrupt loss of visibility due to whiteouts often cause multiple-vehicle collisions. In the case of lake-effect snow, heavy amounts of snow can accumulate in short periods of time, possibly causing road closures and paralyzing cities. For instance, on January 9, 2015, a localized, heavy snow squall caused a 193-vehicle pile-up on I-94 highway near Galesburg, Michigan.

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Somewhere last evening – on CNN or the radio – I read or heard there is foreseeable expectation that things will be back to normal by the summer. Today is the first day of March, almost exactly a year since the news broke of an international lockdown.  It caused a precipitous alteration of everything. Learning how to negotiate the simplest social interaction was an obstruction of Olympic degree. Most conventions were difficult; many were prohibited. Plans were abandoned as either treacherous or illegal.

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The much touted reappearance of Donald J. Trump as a golden idol and centre stage performance at this year’s CPAC Dog and Pony Show is notable for its predominantly laughable agenda. By the time the disgraced Trump gets through the looming civil litigation,  criminal charges, income tax reassessment, declining $2B asset evaluations, maturing $1B debt, diminishing “base” supporters and revitalization of the GOP with its erstwhile genuine conservatism, Americans as a whole will long ago have lost interest in Trump’s venal mendacity and the demeaning behaviour of his pyramid-based family and heirs. The attendance of the Proud Boys and QAnon at this year’s love fest is not at all helpful to any realistic recovery of the GOP.

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There was no doubt this morning from the moment of awakening – an elevation which by the way began for one of us not long after 2:00 am – that the paramount ambition today was completion of the puzzle, the 1000 piece obfuscation from England called “A Winter Stroll” by Steve Crisp sold by Gibsons “Proudly Entertaining Generations Since 1919”.  I confess the occupation is not my own. For my part it’s Bill Evans, “You Must Believe in Spring (1981)”. I excuse my reservation from the endurance of the puzzle by my preference instead for finding words. Both of us however were agreed that a cycle was in order.

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Certainly the removal of Donald J. Trump from political office has spurred considerable buzz worldwide. Mostly in a good way, I’m guessing, even for the GOP (at least if you were to listen to Mitch McConnell). I suspect the “Trump Base” – an unfortunate collision of noun and adjective, support and sordid – will in typical manner disacquaint themselves with Trump when they run to ground that he misled them for his venal purpose. The political hounds like Ted Cruz and Josh Hawley may prove to be more penetratingly misguided but they’re already at peril in my opinion. Americans don’t like losers. Whatever the consequences of Trump’s electoral loss on November 3rd and the Capitol insurrection on January 6th last, people are I believe thankful to be relieved of the constant apprehension and embarrassment surrounding Trump’s circus performance in the public arena.  President Joseph Robinette Biden is a welcome catharsis of the national image and a digestible alternative to Trump’s unsettling diet. Biden’s redecoration of the Oval Office is but one refreshment.

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