The delivery guy (Andy) leaves the daily paper on top of the heater in the atrium downstairs. As a result it’s pleasantly warm by the time I get down to pick it up. This feels luxurious, somehow, this pre-warmed newspaper. Almost like that pre-warmed shaving cream they use at the old barbershop downtown (very nice). Looks like 2010 will be the year of simple pleasures.

And yet all is not well on the newspaper front: apparently a fellow resident has taken a liking to our nicely warmed copies of the Globe. It’s a classic case of “early bird gets the worm,” really. Never mind that this “worm” is hand delivered with my name on it; if I’m not down there to pick it up early, well, it probably wont be there when I go down to pick it up late. Setting the worm analogy aside (I’m not the one who’s robbin’ here), the predicament really rankles on Saturdays — which usually mark the best papers and the laziest mornings of the lot.

Anyhow, lately there’s been much debate in the news regarding the divine right of Kings and Prime Ministers to prorogue Parliament. Fortunately I’m not the only one who recalls earlier prorogations of dubious merit. The 17th-century parliamentary historian John Rushworth (see Historical collections of private passages of state Weighty matters in law [1659]) records one such prorogation, courtesy of King James, which took place in 1621:

A Committee of both Houses afterwards attending the King, he told them how ill he took it, that the Commons should dispute his reasons of Adjournment; all power being in him alone to call, adjourn, prorogue, and dissolve Parliaments. And on Iune 4. he declared for an Adjournment till November following; And that he will in the mean time of his own authority redress Grievances.

In response, the adjourned MPs drew up a declaration voicing their frustration at having their legislative hands tied, first lamenting their plight then claiming that “upon signification of His Majesties pleasure in Parliament, they shall be ready to the utmost of their powers, both with their lives and fortunes to assist him so…” The declaration is quoted in Rushworth (in Gothic type no less):

As it happened, “His majesties pleasure” outweighed parliamentary process. Rushworth writes that the King took

notice that many great affairs debated in Parliament could not be brought to perfection in so short a time… and withall observing that divers of those Particulars required a speedy determination and settlement for his peoples good, and that they are of that condition and quality… that he needeth not the assistance of Parliament to reform the same…

Charles I would take a similar course during his own reign. Turning to A compleat history of the life and raigne of King Charles from his cradle to his grave collected and written by William Sanderson, Esq. (1658), we find another justification of prorogation — here Charles chooses to prorogue rather than face interference and criticism from Parliament. Sanderson includes the King’s 1628 proclamation, Addressed to “My Lords and Gentlemen,” which begins thus:

IT may seem strange that I come so suddenly to end this Session, therefore before I give my assent to the Bils, I will tell you the cause, though I must avow I ow an account of my actions to none but God alone. It is known to every one that a while ago the House of Commons gave me a Remonstrance, how acceptable every man may judge, and for the merit of it I will not call that in question, for I am sure no wise man can justifie it.

Now since I am certainly informed that a second Remonstrance is preparing for me, to take away my profit of Tunnage and Poundage (one of the chief maintenances of the Crown) by alleadging that I have given away my right thereof, by my Answer to your Petition.

This is so prejudicial to me, as I am forced to end this Session some few hours before I meant it, being willing not to receive any more Remonstrances, to which I must give an harsh answer.

And since I see that even the House of Commons begins already to make false constructions of what I granted in your Petition, lest it be worse interpreted in the Country, I will now make a Declaration concerning the true intent thereof.

Sound familiar, perhaps? It seems to me that recent criticism leveled at Prime Minister Harper could have served equally well in these Stuart-era parliamentary fiascos. Here’s a sampling of choice phrases from “Democracy Diminished, Accountability Avoided” (The Globe and Mail, December 31, 2009):

The Conservatives are hoping to bask in the glow of Olympic glory while dodging the mess and scrutiny of lawmaking, Question Period and an outstanding, unprecedented order from Parliament to provide transparency and truth on the detainee file…

If the debate over detainees can not be carried out in Parliament, then it should continue among Canadians at large. On this and other important issues, the government cannot delay accountability for ever…

Government members have already acted as truants when Afghanistan committee hearings are called. The government failed to provide documents to committee members, and implied it will disregard a parliamentary order to produce those documents. Prorogation is the logical extension of such thinking: shut down parliamentary debate entirely.

[See the whole thing here.]

I guess the political game hasn’t changed that much over the last 400 years!

Hello again,

Sometimes our Ottawa winter starts off coy, like a flirt. These brief overtures — a breath of cold, some faint whiff of windchill — last only a moment before winter beats her hasty (but always temporary) retreat, only returning to stay for good come January. No nonsense this time around, though. Seems that in 2009 the season came fast and hard, leaving you no choice but to bundle up and hope for the best. This kind of cold, while bearable, can occasionally alter the natural order of things: times this like these you find yourself — how odd! — deeply and truly grateful for those weird and woolly sweaters that Aunt Agnes diligently sends you every year for Christmas.

Anyhow, the subjects of weirdness, woolliness, diligence, and breaths of fresh air (finally!) seem to accurately encompass the last few months’ worth of preparation for the most recent academic hurdle. The clearing of said hurdle is typically met with glad shouts of “hallelujah,” but this time I decided to leave it to the professionals — or at least to the devoted amateurs at the North Grenville Concert Choir. This circumstance was not so by choice or by chance, but due to the fact of having been wed to a chorister! Imagine that for a moment…

choir_sm

Now, “chorister and cook,” I suppose that ought to have read. But really, what is a community choir without cookies? You can bet that the program for the NAC performance of Handel’s Messiah doesn’t include the text: “tea and refreshments are to be served following the performance.”

gingerbreadcookies_sm

donuts_sm

How unfortunate, though, that these times of indulgence coincide with the coldest months of the year… just when the aforementioned Ottawa winter makes it that much harder to put in those few precious laps around Mud Lake.

Not so, however, for some of the season’s gillier creatures:

mudpuppynight_sm

This from Mudpuppy Night in Oxford Mills a couple weeks ago, where the sad truth of it was that none of the titular creatures were to be seen. I guess that made it more of an Icy Cold Night in Oxford Mills, which proved significantly less interesting. One week later, however, there were reports of dozens of mudpuppies (you can see some on Bev’s blog here — terrific photos from another night).  I guess it’s all in the timing.

Speaking of which, that’s probably enough for now; apparently it’s not feasible to be “just sitting here” while there’s “so much to do before all holiday breaks loose.”

Well, on that note: have a good one.

The animals around here don’t celebrate Earth Day — they’re too busy fighting. Seriously, it seems like the local Grackles, Robins, and Squirrels have all been at each others’ throats lately, presumably settling complicated territorial disputes.

But humans are getting the hang of it, though (celebrating Earth Day, that is – they’re already pretty darn good at fighting). Take Starbucks, for example, where they were giving free coffee to those bearing Travel Mugs. Of course, I felt like a villain just walking out of there without paying a single cent, so I bought a “cold coffee in a can” drink to make the guilt go away (that’s what shopping is for, after all).

Anyhow, my Earth Day gift to you is two pictures of morphing Wood Frog eggs:

#1 – mostly egg stage

#2 - some serious hatching going on

BB#5: Mud Lake

You know, it’s funny — at a distance, the open river sounds just like the highway.

Last week brought a day or two’s respite from winter’s worst, and it looks like I wasn’t the only one grateful for it. Beyond the usual suspects (woodpeckers, squirrels, chickadees, bloggers) reports have come in regarding kindly groups of pigeons, two brilliant cardinals (one following/chasing the other), and a big furry thing:

Subsequent closer inspection revealed it to be a porcupine. But no clearer pictures, I’m afraid; just as I was drawing close to the base of its tree, the camera suffered a battery-related demise. Although this was somewhat frustrating at the time, I realize now that it was likely a timely inconvenience. Sneaking up on a porcupine — whether it’s asleep or not — is probably not a great idea, and calling off the chase due to technical difficulties was likely the right thing to do.

Now, I came across this fellow down by Mud Lake, which is just a short piece downstream-ish from Britannia Bay. I figure the thing to do is return to the same tree at roughly the same time of day (8:00am) and see if our friend is there again. So, stay tuned…

BB#4: Perigee Moon

There you have it: a picture as grainy as the night is cold. For more on this notion of a “perigee moon,” you can click here. It certainly made for a bright evening, and that despite the clouds overhead.

Here the old moon pitches in to illuminate the Belltown Dome’s elaborate exo-structure.

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