The Occasional Solipsist

So Superwife and I went for what will in hindsight likely turn out to be our last adventure for a very long time tonight.

Not that it was a grand adventure or anything. But anything you can accomplish with a now over 9 months pregnant woman and leave everyone smiling afterwards is a real coup d'etat.

We went down to the Port Weller Dry Docks to go for a walk along the Welland Canal, local section of the St. Lawrence Seaway System, and got more comedy than we would have expected.

First, we come across a gaggle of geese (how many other times in my life will I get to use gaggle in a sentence?) along the pathway. And I decide to take a picture of one of the younger ones, since it isn't at all scared of me and lets me walk right up to it.

And that's where mother goose comes in.

This huge female Canadian Goose, obviously the mom, comes marching right up to me, and lets out this primordial roar, like Spielberg's Tyrannosaur from Jurassic Park. I mean a totally out of place Roar, completely incongruous with this bird's diminutive size. Scares the shit out of me, because I get a quick flashback of feeding geese up at Canadore College when I was a kid and one of those monsters leaving with a good chunk of skin off my right pinky finger.

So I snap a quick pic of the enraged mom, and get the fuck out of Dodge.

The best part: after we back off, she walks right up to where I had been standing and lets out another cry, as if to tell me that I'd better run, punk, if I knew what was good for me. We got a good laugh out of that.

And then on the way back Superwife and I see the bridge coming up on the lock, the klaxons braying, and we think, great, now we'll actually get to see a big ship come through the canal. We've certainly been in the position of the totally pissed off drivers currently being forced to squeal to a halt enough times.

So we wait expectantly, and instead of being rewarded with the obligatory huge oceangoing tanker, a 20 foot sailboat glides into view, the three occupants all smiles and waves as if they know that everyone watching would just love to see them sink, and maybe even have a hand in it. I couldn't believe it. And I was so glad that I wasn't one of those people on the bridge, because I would've been going out of my fucking mind swearing at being stopped for that.

And even after all that walking, no contractions from babybrown. Guess our little one just likes it too much in there.

And who can blame it anyway? We guys, and yes, some gals too, spend the bulk of our lives trying to get back in there.

Least I know I have.

While we're on the subject, we also saw a nice little beaver (haha, not that kind), which according to The Great Canadian Movie, is an omen.

Good or bad, we couldn't tell. But if Paul Gross says its an omen, then an omen in it is.

Labels: family