works of wanderlust

  • fifty walks, walk one

    fifty walks, walk one

    I’m no April fool, but spring has been playing tricks on all of us this year. It seems to tease a warm up but then chill out the next day and offer up a little bit more snow.

    Case in point. Yesterday I did my first of the fifty walks series, and I didn’t even need my wool cap. This morning, less than a day later I am sitting in a Starbucks to write the recap of that walk and looking out the window at the swirling mini blizzard we mustered up to celebrate.

    Fifty is a lot of walks. I’m gonna need to try to do roughly two long walks per week if I’m going to hit that goal. It’s also going to be interesting to try and write something interesting about each of them.

    The Route

    To start, I suppose I should just say that I made it simple for my first: I walked out the front door and took the still new-ish long path up along the mini-freeway that passes by our neighbourhood. That path is about four and a half klicks long from our intersection (it goes south for about two).

    From there, and reaching a kind of inability to go any further north for the moment, I tucked into the nearby neighbourhood and crosscut it towards where I knew the creek trails joined up.

    We run in the creeks all the time, but it’s been a very long time since I’ve just gone and walked that path. Years, really. Most of the ice was still packed onto the trails down there, but it wasn’t so bad that it was impassible or anything.  It was slow going, but for that I blame my photography urges.

    I climbed back out of the creek valley at the end of that trail and followed the asphalt back towards home. 

    Eleven klicks. Exactly. I started and stopped my watch at the foot of my driveway and it read 11.01km. 

    The Effort

    As I noted I spent a lot of time distracted taking pictures. Shockingly, you may be surprised that I even tried doing some “strolling selfies” propping my camera up against a tree or a light standard and using the remote shutter features of my AirPods to try and nab an interesting solo shot. I think I might still need to work on that.

    The walk took nearly three hours all in. That’s a lot of solo time in the city. I was doing the (obviously simple) math of that while I was wandering along and taking breaks from the audiobook I was listening to: fifty walks at three hours a piece is a hundred and fifty hours of walking and at least five hundred klicks. I’m gonna need to figure out some better shoes, too.

    Of course, finding fifty walks in this city that are unique and interesting and places “I don’t usually go” is going to be probably my biggest challenge. I can walk laps around neighbourhoods but (a) I need to get to a starting place and (b) what’s so interesting about laps around yet another suburban wasteland? I suspect a good portion of my walks will be out my front door and exploring some of the single track or side trails that I don’t visit while running (and definitely can’t get to in a car) and there’s nothing wrong with that. Rules are not so strict as to have me plotting against my own self-interest and success after all.

    I also need to figure out how I can bring along a better camera or a audio capture device, both better than just my phone. Travelling light is great, but a dozen times along the way yesterday I thought to myself it would have been great to have my SLR or my Zoom recorder.

    The Highlight

    Part way into the creek trail I went off route, and wandered down a side path along the thawing creek. There is still a pretty solid build up of winter ice, but the water is flowing through the gaps, gurgling and rushing atop and through the melting spaces. I took some photos and stood there listening to the creek for about five minutes.  Birds sounded all around and the city disappeared from my awareness. It was a moment.

    If I can find something like that on the next forty nine walks I think I’ll easily be able to call it a success.

  • weekender, six

    weekender, six

    I somehow managed to fit in watching three movies this weekend and it started with a random pick off Netflix called Code 3, a Rainn Wilson tragi-comedy about ambulance drivers in Los Angeles. Also, it turned out to be a biting indictment of American-style health care, and a bit of an unexpected tear-jerker in the end.

    Saturday morning got myself out of the house pretty early because the orchestra was doing our first spring concert. Don’t worry, you didn’t miss it. It was not a public concert. As part of our mandate as an organization we do a few concerts every year in seniors residences for the folks who live there. We packed a small hall in the facility and played an hours-worth of repertoire with only a couple small snafus—not that anyone would notice besides us—and put a lot of smiles on faces, which is a pretty slick way to start a Saturday… despite the long icy drive into downtown.

    My migration away from caffeine tends to hit me pretty hard on quiet days like this when I’m not actively working on anything important. I made the mistake of putting on The Princess Bride (the second movie of the weekend, by the way) and I am one hundred percent certain I napped through half of it—but not a specific half, just fifteen minute chunks in fits and spurts. The dog didn’t move, either, cuddled up as she was next to me on the sofa. 

    I woke up and took her for a walk because the day had warmed up considerably. It’s pretty much spring now, but that only means that the cold has restricted itself to the shoulders of the day—not a problem unless you a morning or evening person.

    We had a quiet evening and the Kid wanted us to watch a comedy special that she was enjoying. I think she does that sometimes, just to watch us watch something that she likes so that she can gauge how aligned we are with her frame of reference. That’s just speculation tho—and overthinking it. It was pretty funny.

    Sunday morning I met the usual crew and we started the uphill push into more serious training. Winter tends to be a maintenance phase for us with anyone rarely doing serious racing between November and April. Spring means better trail conditions, of course, but also the clock suddenly ticking on everyone’s summer and fall race schedule. I haven’t signed up for anything yet—tho I really should—but I do my best to keep up with everyone who has something in their docket. In other words, we did my literal longest run of 2026 on Sunday morning which wasn’t particularly long in the grand scheme of things, but was long enough be considered a change from the so-called long runs we’ve been doing since about October. No problem. And of course, a coffee (tea for me) meetup followed as usual.

    Our third movie of the weekend was the one everyone is talking about this month. We got tix to Project Hail Mary which came out on Friday and engaged with the zeitgeist of the film-going universe for the afternoon. I had read the book for the second time almost a year back, one of the first I tackled on my new (at the time) e-reader. It’s a great story, and they did an excellent job of turning it into a classic film that I’m sure I will probably buy on video and watch a dozen more times. 

    Going to the movies in the afternoon, tho, means that your evening feels a bit anti-climactic and so we had dinner and chilled on the sofa with the poor neglected dog (who did not get to come to the movie) and wondered what strange adventures awaited us in the week ahead.

  • japanese, part five

    japanese, part five

    I’m Duolingo’d out.

    I have long had an affection for the idea of this app. I was one of their early users, I cranked through the French lessons for well over a year-long streak back when I was commuting to work downtown on the train and would sit in a little bench seat and churn through verb conjugations and vocabulary lessons. 

    And then I stopped using it for a while. I burnt out a bit, and… well… that was that. Reflecting on why I stopped back then the reasons were pretty similar to how I’ve been feeling this past month or two.

    See, last March, almost exactly a year ago I was enrolled in a University program for professional upgrading and I was able to get the student discount for a subscription to Duolingo again. I had been dabbling on my own in learning the Japanese character sets, and we were planning an autumn trip so I figured it would be fun to maybe learn a few words. Duolingo to the rescue, right?

    I churned away, cranked through levels, and the app kept telling me, I was making great progress, scoring 100% lessons, and boom: I am a Japanese ace, or something.

    This morning I hit my 365 day streak. One year of daily Japanese lessons, some days more robust than others of course, but a solid effort on the app nonetheless.

    Am I fluent?

    Well, um… that’s the thing.

    Duolingo gets a lot of hate online, and the last thing I want to do is pile on. It’s been a good toy. It’s a fun distraction. It definitely motivates. And… well, again. A year is no measure of fluency, but I really have very little confidence in my ability to do much with Japanese beyond the little bit that I learned taking actual in person lessons last fall from a native Japanese speaker. I don’t give the app much credit for progress. It was there, always nagging, but something about it wasn’t sticking.

    So, I’m taking a break from it… again.

    Learning a new language is complex, and I think if I were to sit in a room with one of the big brains working behind the scenes at Duolingo I would probably hear about a vision that combined complex conversational AI with an easy to use app and motivational pushes to help people learn. And I suppose if I was willing to dump heaps of money into that version and spend a solid thirty minutes a day conversing with a bot and, oh, overlook the shady staffing practices that people talk about online with respect to Duolingo’s corporate owners, yeah, maybe I would work closer to fluency. 

    But the core product, the affordable and reasonable product that I am willing to pay for, is very much a half baked game and I no longer think it is doing anything for me in terms of moving closer to fluency with any reasonable speed. And upgrading—considering the aforementioned shady business stuff and also that I’ve just spent a year mostly spinning my metaphorical tires in the duolingo mud means I’m pretty burned out on pushing forward with this approach to learning Japanese.

    There are other ways. I have books. I have flashcards. I have access to media and the internet to scrape together something that can’t do any worse than what I’m doing now.  

    Sayonara, Duo. 

  • weekender, five

    weekender, five

    I am certainly not entirely keeping pace with my weekender updates, but to be fair a lot of recent weekends have been us just hiding from the cold weather and watching movies or playing video games for long stretches. We’ve also spent a lot of time in the basement sorting and cleaning because the Kid has signalled an interest in moving into the downstairs bedroom but that requires a lot of reorganization, painting, and a list of other interconnected and downstream effects related to clearing out that room so she can move in. In other words, if you haven’t heard from us it’s probably because we are in the basement clearing it up.

    But we did get out on a date night on Friday night. I had bought tix for Karin for Christmas to the symphony—experiences not more stuff, right?—and the show was a trio of former Broadway divas on tour and singing musical hits in accompaniment with our local orchestra. It was solid.

    Saturday was busy, but not for me. 

    The ladies had their morning fitness routines and I chilled with the dog.

    And then it was prep for the annual dance studio gala event. This is our first year technically not being dance parents, though, even though Karin still takes some adult fitness classes there. Problem is that she was president of the parents society last year, so that means she is still loosely tied in the handover of the complex jobs of both transition and making sure all the know-how of running this big event get passed along to the next generation. She was over at the hall all afternoon helping with setup, and then they both ditched me to attend the show and dinner, the Kid going along to watch some of her friends dance.

    I stayed at home and ordered a pizza (for Pi Day!) and cracked a beer for myself as I hunkered down with the dog and pushed through a couple episodes of the show I’ve been watching (Fallout). And then I retreated into the basement to noodle on my music stuff until well past eleven when the gals stumbled home.

    I have this old amplifier stereo system with some reasonably good shelf speakers that have been sitting in my office gathering dust. All of it is well over twenty-five years old, though it still works. I (a) have been thinking that it was broken because the volume dial on the amp is finicky and (b) its very much got some old connections that don’t sync up with anything modern like HDMI or bluetooth or USB. But then I got to thinking: my music stuff doesn’t have modern connections either: it leans into standard audio jacks and the like. I dug through my box of old cables (you know, the kind every self respecting guy has in a closet) and managed to string an audio connection over to where my synth and pedals are setup, found the remote control at the back of the shelf and dusted off the equipment. It was damn near magical, filling the whole room and half the house with rumbling bass and wah-wahs of electric synth.

    The next morning I met a few of the crew for our Sunday run. Various excuses—a fun run race, mostly—meant our little group was just three strong, but we logged ten klicks and even made it down into the snowy trails for a part of it.

    Later that afternoon I was back down in the basement with my audio stuff out again, and had not only played for a solid hour or so with the synth but then realized that I also had the connections to hook up my iPhone to the audio cables. I put on some Pink Floyd and turned down the lights and just chilled. It was a vibe.

    Of course, the Kid turned on the Oscars after dinner. I can’t say I ever care much to watch, usually because—as with this year—I haven’t seen many or any of the films yet. But we watched the whole damn thing, me mostly explaining the little nuggets that I understood about the voting process and the seat fillers and also trying to look up everything on our phones when we were like who-is-that and what-was-she-in-again?

    If the weather reports are to be believed, the temperatures are about to do a one-eighty sometime today and perhaps even usher in a spring thaw. So, maybe next weekend—fingers crossed—I’ll get outside a bit more.

  • book reviews: simple sci fi

    book reviews: simple sci fi

    All my great intentions for reading in 2026 have manifested in the way of man whose eyes are too big for his stomach. In my case, my reading appetite has bitten off a few large portions and I find myself already well into March and not having completed much of anything. It is not for lack of reading, but rather some lack of focus and what focus there is landing on some very large books. I am currently reading four very different novels, each of them massive tomes of fiction, and not one of them particularly close to being completed.  

    Among them are the following and I might leave you to guess the titles:

    A far-future science fantasy novel spiritually-adjacent story themed around the philosophical coming of age its protagonist.

    A very popular apocalyptic horror novel by a very well known author dealing with a government created disease outbreak.

    A fourth part of a techno science fiction epic tangled up in poetry and science and artificial intelligence and religion.

    A work of historical fiction threaded through ancient Japan about a pirate and a clash of culture and romantic adventure all around.

    None of them are less than a thousand pages long. 

    Back on January first—it is the thirteenth of March as I write this—I hunkered in the post new years glow and finished off my first book of the year (my recap written later that day follows below) and figured I was off to a good start to fill my blog with interesting book reviews. 

    How did that hold up? Um. I’m pressing out a pair of reviews in this post to make up the gap. Figure that out.

    Either way, enjoy, I read:

    Flybot, Dennis E. Taylor with Ray Porter

    Long before I was logging books here, I had long since finished listening to all the Bob-iverse novels by Taylor and narrated by Porter, so when I saw this audible exclusive pop up in my recommended titles I knew two things: (a) the algorithm knew me and (b) I was almost certainly going to listen to it.  Taking a break from all the heavy, thick novels I’ve been reading—and needing an excuse to make use of my new airpods (jeeze, this starting to sound like a damn sponsored post—it’s not) I sunk into this little murder mystery science fiction story. Taylor has jumped deep into the genre of nerdy-guys-write-clever-fiction in the style of The Martian or Dungeon Crawler Carl—guy lit, where nerdy men dig into the jargon of science or geekdom while making pop culture references so thick that you sometimes get lost googling the reference just to make sure you are up to speed on all the cleverness. I fall for it every time, of course, and love these books the same way my wife tucks into Austen or Agatha or Bridgerton.  Flybot tells the story of the world about thirty years anon where hardware and software are highly regulated to prevent a rogue AI from destroying the world—which is darn near just about what happens, tangling up a pair of wisecracking scientists in a terrorist plot involving their work, the computer cops and somehow linked to some missing AI hardware. Like all of Taylor’s books it is something of a beach read—or in my case, a trudging through the snow while walking the dog read—and you are only meant to get some light entertainment out of the fun story, not some deep philosophical insight or momentous understanding of the weight of the world (a definite feature of all the other heavy stuff I’ve been reading lately). Porter is on my shortlist of favourite narrators, to the point where I pretty much narrow my search to see what else he has read and listen to that. (I noted this before, but if you haven’t listened to Project Hail Mary, close this blog and go download it now. Maybe Flybot, too, but first PHM.) It is a match of geeky proportions. And I love it all and will buy every damn audiobook these two create.

    Artificial Condition – The Murderbot Diaries (Book 2), Martha Wells

    Well, crap. I was doing oh so well logging all my fresh reads in 2025 and then, let’s see. I think it was a cross between laziness and traveling and then generally all the way back thru December, which was mostly just a different kind of laziness. Anyhow. Didn’t log a bunch of reads after, I think, about September. So. Whatever. Onward and upward, right? I was determined to start this new year off a little more focused (aren’t we always, tho?) and both (a) read a lot more and (b) keep better track of what I am reading.  To that end, I kicked off a lazy, snowy January first by completing a whole damn novel. (Well, ok, a novella. It was a mere one hundred and twenty one pages long.) Artificial Condition is the sequel (and second in what turns out to be a substantially long list of titles) to the Murderbot Diaries, a clever and quirky science fiction series from the last ten years or so. After reading book one back in October we went on vacation and then I came back and watched the Apple TV adaptation of that first book which somehow caught quite a lot of the magic and vibe of the book and I found myself actually quite enjoying it. The eponymous Murderbot is the protagonist of the stories, a rogue human-form Security Unit who has a shady backstory and has been sneakily avoiding getting caught with his hacked control module (which unhacked would otherwise compel him to obey humans) but who spends the bulk of his time just trying not to be forced to have awkward conversations with humans preferring instead to watch (what is implied to be) mediocre soap opera space dramas that he downloads off “the feed.” Humans, from his perspective, are always making dumb decisions that are about to get them killed. Fortunately Murderbot is there to step in and slow down some of their progress: is he deep down a nice guy or just a bot who hates the distraction of it all? I bought the whole set as a Humble Bundle of ebooks mid-last year, so I guess I’ll have lots more evidence to figure that out.

about

Welcome. I’m one of those weirdos who still writes a personal blog. In fact, I’ve been writing meandering drivel online for decades, and here you’ll find all my recent posts on writing, technology, art, food, adventure, running, travel, and overthinking just about anything and everything …since early 2021.

I write regularly from here in the Canadian Prairies about just about anything that interest me. Enjoy!

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