As I’ve said before, the faces come on their own schedule, and usually when I haven’t thought about them for a while. Here’s a little fish face I saw in a floor drain this week.
He reminded me, I think, of the clownfish from Finding Nemo — a movie I know only from ads. Not seeing him? Try this. And happy fishin’, for whatever you’d like to catch!
Remember FZDZ? Sure you do. Freezing drizzle. So, what in the world is RIPTYDZ an acronym/anacronym/blend for? We already know the DZ, but what could RIPTY mean?
Nothing.
Try it this way instead: RIPTYDZ, which is roughly how their signage looks, but in beachy colours that don’t show well onscreen. It’s a beachfront restaurant in Myrtle Beach.
My new favourite thing, courtesy of the Spring Day 3 weather forecast for this region? Freezing drizzle. What? Yes, that’s what they said on the radio: we have a yellow advisory for freezing drizzle. And the internet agreed.
I’d never heard of freezing drizzle so I went looking, and it really is a thing: Wikipedia, the Muskoka Region website, and NAV CANADA all agree. I skimmed the explanations and am no more learned than before. Your mileage may vary, so here’s a bit from Wikipedia:
Although freezing drizzle and freezing rain are similar in that they both involve liquid precipitation above the surface in subfreezing temperatures and freeze on the surface, the mechanisms leading to their development are entirely different. Where freezing rain forms when frozen precipitation falls through a melting layer and turns liquid, freezing drizzle forms via the supercooled warm-rain process, in which cloud droplets coalesce until they become heavy enough to fall out of the cloud, but in subfreezing conditions.
Do you have anything to declare?
We’re second in line in the Nexus queue, having just flown in from Phoenix via a layover in Chicago. It’s been a long-ish day, with a fair amount of standing in lines before we even got here. Since landing, we’ve navigated the almost-endless hallways (longer every year, somehow) of the international-arrivals part of Ottawa International Airport, and the I-swear-it’s-never-the-same-experience-twice Nexus kiosks. Our departure from the country seems to be the cue to revise their user interface.
Now we stand, looking, I’m sure, old and tired, with our “receipt” from said kiosk in hand, ready to go to the next step, whether that’s being waved through to wait for our luggage or waved over to explain ourselves to a Canadian Border Services officer in his own kind of kiosk. All that stands between us and that next step is another flier: frequent enough to have paid for a Nexus card, but not frequent enough to understand the question just asked by the person who decides whether to wave through or over: a Canadian Border Services officer standing, unencumbered by any kiosk, at the head of this line. Why do I think my fellow flier doesn’t understand? Because of his response to the officer’s question.
Question: Do you have anything to declare?
Response: What would I declare?
Which return visitor is the surest sign of a Canadian spring? Maybe it’s a robin. Perhaps it’s a crocus. It could be the sneaker snowstorm, akin to the sneaker wave. Or it could be the snow-removal contractor’s shovelling guy, hired to clear a path from the snowy street, up the snowy driveway, and along the snowy steps, who is still hard at it on the First Day of Spring, 2026. Herewith, my view from front and back doors this afternoon.
Sigh. This too shall pass.
In vain do I search my memories of my Alberta yute for freezing rain. Maybe we had it, maybe we didn’t. I remember hoar frost. I remember cold. I remember packed-down snow so dry it squeaked when you walked on it. I don’t remember freezing rain.
Freezing rain occurs when frozen precipitation falls through a warm layer of air, causing the precipitation to melt and change from solid to liquid. However, because the surface where it lands is below freezing, the liquid precipitation freezes on contact, creating a dangerous icy layer. – GLISA, UMich
I don’t need to search my memory about freezing rain in Ottawa: we were under a freezing-rain warning this past week, said warning involving breathless advice to be ready to do without power for up to three days. Yeah, that wasn’t going to be feasible in my house. I mean, I need electricity every day, you know? Usually all day. Surely the weather gods would accommodate a genuine need.
The number of TV channels? The number of electric appliances in my house? The ease of getting food and ready-to-eat meals and, well, anything really, delivered to my house? No, as significant as these are, I think the biggest difference between my life and my grandmother’s is the number of times in a day I bump into unsolicited and seemingly random chunks of new information. I’m left wondering whether my grandmother was *ever* accosted by answers to questions she hadn’t asked, or even thought to ask. To wit:
A friendly greeting goes a long way, and in Gaelic, there are different ways to say hello depending on the time of day:
I had not, in fact, been wondering about Gaelic greetings, but–courtesy of something or other on the internet–here we are now. Let’s see what we have, shall we?
As I write this, we leave Tempe tomorrow. As you read it, we left Tempe yesterday. And yet, in the eternal now of dogs and the internet, today we can walk together through Veterans Oasis Park in Chandler, enjoying this wee part of the space-time continuum.
OK, that’s enough physics for today. Maybe for the year. Let’s continue with biology.
This mallard was happy to pose–with and without some vegetation dangling from his beak–until a jet overhead distracted him. At least that’s what seemed to happen, as he rolled his neck, apparently to check out the loud noise from the heavens above us.
I hear voices. They’re not in my head: the singing is on the Facebook feed of my synagogue’s Friday-night service.
I hear voices. They’re not working hard, as near as I can tell: they seem to effortlessly cross time and space from Eastern-Time Ottawa to Mountain-Time Tempe via some magic we’ve named “streaming”, just as if that explained it.
Source: Sheenagh Pugh
Posted: Mar 28
