Summer treat: a blooming Canadian icon

TORONTO STAR PHOTO

Ed-like blooms

Today let me sing the praises of Ed Lawrence. He's on local CBC radio in Toronto every Monday (Tuesday on holiday weeks) to talk about gardening. Formerly in charge of the grounds of Ottawa's Official Residences for the National Capital Commission, he's written several books, the latest being, Gardening Grief and Glory.  He's a very sly man. The topic for his call-in show is gardening and, sure, he takes questions from listeners across Ontario  about their horticultural hassles. But he doesn't fool me. He's not talking about gardening at all; Ed Lawrence is talking about life.

If I were to have a life guru, it would be Ed Lawrence. On dark winter days, he reminds me the natural world is invisibly gathering its strength for the rebirth to come, and it cheers me. He reminds me there is continuity to life, just as there is to the seasons. That sounds simple enough but, without Ed Lawrence, I tend to forget. He's like my grandmother's cup of tea; he makes everything seem better. He describes the long nose of a certain garden weevil with the same wonder and gusto as the first glorious blooming of the lilac tree in springtime. No matter how arcane the topic, he always seems to have an answer or — and how often does this happen with most experts? — he says he doesn't know and will find out. That happens maybe once a year. He makes me believe I can make things grow — and I find I can. Sometimes he describes the fruits of a garden — a splash of colour from crimson-coated onions in a summer salad or the special taste of the bitter dandelion leaf — with the joy of someone seeing and tasting for the first time. And there's always a nugget to take away from his show and savour. Today's was: "There are some things we just shouldn't worry about that much." He was talking about long-nosed weevils — or so he said.

I don't often get a chance to listen to Ed Lawrence, at least not the whole show. But this week, and for a couple more to come, I'm off and my time is my own. I don't want to let this blog go for three weeks — not when it's so much fun — so I will continue to post. It just won't be as regular (sorry about last week) and I will slip in a few more personal favorites. It is summer.

One last thing: I say an Order of Canada for Ed Lawrence. Pass it on.

The politics of Big Chew

MICHAEL FONG PHOTO

CHEWY AT 9 WEEKS

Readers sure know how to lift the spirits of a lowly blogger. When I asked for material for an occasional "FlowerPower" post to ease the grind of politics, Michael Fong figured his new pup, Chewy, would be perfect. And on my day off too.

He's right. Who better at the good deed thing than a dog? Loyalty,  friendship, wisdom, consolation. protection. Our best pals. OK, maybe Chewy has a few months (many months?) of living up to his name to get through, but he'll get there. (Hang in, Michael).

Now, I'm not going to turn into some "cutewithchris" blogger because I don't want to tell readers, "Your dreams are dead!" (even if I'm thinking it) or "What are you sick people looking for?" (ibid).  So thanks, Chewy, but I'll pass on more cute animal pix.

I will toss you folks a link, however, because it's really funny. Chris Leavins is Canadian and I like the idea of Decoder readers tuning into Episode #164 tonight and showing up at work tomorrow morning completely whacked because they've watched the other 163.

Fair warning, though. You either started tuning into his blog, like, a year ago, and are his biggest fan, or you'll be offended and hate it. Ask yourself:

Are you 14?

Do you act like a 14-year-old?

When you laugh, do people look at you strangely?

Yes, to any of the above and you too could become a Chris addict. Otherwise, turn away, turn away, from Cute with Chris.

MICHAEL FONG PHOTO

BIG CHEW- THE DEFENDER

Upon reflection, Chewy does work in a political blog and I offer another photograph to prove it. What could be more political than loyalty? (Hahahahahahahaha) Look at Big Chew with his owner. So sleepy, but ever watchful. How loyal is that?

I say some Liberal leadership hopefuls (not mentioning any names) could learn a thing about loyalty from Big Chew. Maybe Stéphane Dion should take note.

Oh wait, he's already got a dog. Well, there you go.

Postscript: Don't blame me if you didn't heed my warning about the link.

Politics of Living. Forget about the rest.

It's Friday and summer is almost here.

EDWARD OZOG PHOTO

Roses, the kind of flower that has nothing to do with this new category of mine.

If this optimism sounds a little out of character, chalk it up to a few days in wonderful Newfoundland. People are so nice. It reminds me of people in Mexico (minus the drug lords) and in Colombia (apart from the ones who want to kidnap you). I suppose being in Newfoundland brings out my true self who still lives somewhere in North Ontario, where folks are also damned nice.

If your teeth aren't aching yet, read on because this trip helped me decide about an idea I've been pondering for some time. It could be tricky, and I can't say I haven't been warned. When I wrote about driving from Mexico City to Toronto with my cats in the back seat, Don Macpherson, my friend and Quebec columnist for The Gazette, told me I had a one-story limit on cute stories, and I'd hit it. Any more cats or their ilk and I'd forfeit my right to the proud title of political journalist and morph into a sentimental sap. O horror, O Kurtz, O, Don. Really?

But I say you only live once and I'm going ahead with an occasional blog category - very occasional - in which I'll write about decent things people have done for me or others. I've always believed doing something good doesn't count if it's not done existentially which, I suppose, contradicts the meaning of the word. (BTW, loved Gore Vidal's sniping in the June issue of Esquire that Norman Mailer, who liked to say, "It's existential," died "without knowing what the word meant." )

Growing up, a good deed existed only in and of itself, in a black hole as it were, and not for the sin of spiritual pride or some other nonsense. And, although this again rather negates the meaning of existential (I know, Mr. Vidal, but mine is a strange family, like everybody's I reckon), it was important one didn't ever speak of having done something nice.

But let's throw my childhood rules away, although I am the recipient and not the doer of the following examples:

• My vet in Mexico City once took my failing cat into his own home for the care he needed so I could cover the war in Colombia for another week. (Whoops, Donnie, I'm out-of-control.)
• An old man once hobbled across a field at dawn in Chiapas, carrying sweet black coffee for photographer Pete Power and me. We'd been trapped overnight between Mexican army lines and the Zapatista rebels and the old man was the most beautiful sight in the world.
• Last week at Sun Valley Foods, a young girl, maybe 11, surreptitiously picked up a couple of mandarins I'd let roll onto the floor and intended to pick up. (Yeah, right.) She didn't think anybody saw her.

Small stuff, but life-affirming.

When I talked to blog editor Aneurin Bosley, he said my idea mirrors our very popular Feature, Acts of Kindness. But we agree: how can there be too much of a good thing?

MARK BAKER/AP

This isn't our Flower but it is a   meerkat - under a heat lamp for some reason, in Australia.

Besides, my idea differs. It's called FlowerPower, not after distant fads of the 60s, but the late great Flower of Meerkat Manor. As with any other post, I invite comment. Plus, from time to time, I will post a blog using accounts - short ones - of experiences of readers sent directly to my email address.

A few rules, however. Please don't:

• Tell a story to demonstrate "everything happens for a reason."
• Describe how somebody found "closure".
• Misuse the term, "hero". When in doubt, don't, just like taking off that extra piece of jewellery.
• I'll remember other rules as we go along. It's all very arbitrary, but only for my postings. Your comments are your own.

Go crazy. Or not.