Lending the chainsaw

A few weeks ago, my coworker Lori mentioned her husband had some wood to cut, but didn't have a chainsaw. I quickly offered to let him borrow my mine. I use the chainsaw to cut up the firewood I scrounge in the neighbourhood, but could easily spare the saw for a few weeks and I'm always happy to help out another modern lumberjack.

So, I put the chainsaw in my car and drove it in to work. It's a light chainsaw, so I could have brought it into the building to give to Lori, but we figured it would be better to do the transfer in the parking lot. We had a feeling that it would make the front desk security guards uncomfortable to have someone walk past them with a chainsaw. Like there probably isn't a specific rule against chainsaws in the building, but they'd feel they should do something about it.

I mentioned that the blade could be lubricated. "They have dedicated chainsaw oil, but I just use a heavy motor oil or bicycle chain oil, whatever's around," I told her.

Gord had the chainsaw for a couple of weeks and then he returned it. I don't know much about Gord, but I can tell you he is the kind of guy who returns things in better shape than he borrows them.

Here is the returned chainsaw.

Notice the wood attached to the blade? With nice heavy screw knobs? He made a guard for the blade! Cut a piece of wood to a perfect shape, drilled some holes and attached those really nice knobs. And, he threw in a jug of proper chainsaw oil!

I'm trying to think of what else I can lend Gord.

A Reader Seeking Advice

This morning I received an email from a reader looking for a date venue recommendation:

Met a girl, eharmony, ...who is a successful politician of sorts and is often in meetings, pictures, dinners etc.

I want to meet in either Montreal or Ottawa depending on the convenience factor for her and do something that is outside of her normal routines.

Suggestions?

K.

Obviously, he came here because of my romantic things to do in Ottawa post, but those either aren't romantic enough, or they're not outside of her normal routines enough, or they're not suitable for a successful politician of sorts.

So I suggested:

1. Skating on the Canal: It is a cliché, but it is a wonderful thing that can only be done in Ottawa. Everybody always says "I should do this more often".
2. Shoot some pool. She gets to look all sexy bending over the table. Maclarens on Elgin is nicely upscale for pool.
3. Is she into sports? People say that an Ottawa 67s game is more fun than a Senators game. Then there's Spins'n'Needles, Disco Bingo, Roller Derby...

But he didn't like those:

...really looking to do something that is outside of her normal activities and requires intimacy (verbal!) and access to a one on one communication venue with the atmosphere and the surrounding environment contributing to a warm relaxing event .

So... Do we have more suggestions for K? Or should we let him figure this out on his own? Would we be doing a disfavour to the "girl" who is a successful politician of sorts if we give him a great date idea and it leads her to think he is a thinker-upper of great dates?

Ghana photos from the 80s

The Chief's Soul sitting in front of him

Just before I left Ghana in 1986, my young friend Ben Kofi Wilson gave me a set of photos. I came across them recently and thought I'd put them up on Flickr because he might like to look at them.

Three of the photos feature Ben's friend and classmate, Obese (Oh-bee-see) Yeboah, who also happened to be the soul of the Akwapihene, the chief of the Akwapims.

I didn't know that Yeboah was the chief's soul until the day I punished him for talking in class. I don't remember the punishment. Probably I made him kneel on the concrete floor for a few minutes.

After class, Ben ran after me and told me that I should not have punished Yeboah because he was the soul of the chief.

He had to explain to me about how for protection the chief lodged his soul in the body of a young boy. This meant that if I punished Yeboah, it was like I was punishing the Awkapihene.

I acted like I was unconcerned. "If he's the soul of the chief, he shouldn't do anything to get punished for."

But I was a bit concerned, so I asked my friend Emmanuel Asante-Ankwa the senior housemaster about it. "Hmm," he said, "I had heard something about this boy being the soul of the chief. I think it is all right for him to be punished if he misbehaves, but come see me if it is anything serious. Perhaps we should avoid caning him."

Fortunately for all of us, Yeboah's talking in class was an isolated incident and Emmanuel wasn't much for caning anyway.

Notes:

• Akwapim is also often spelled Akuapem.
• There is interesting detail about Akwapim kings at page 171 of Religion and Power, Oriental Institute series, Number 4.

My Second Favourite Plate and a Dilemma

My second favourite plate might actually be a bowl. (I think of it more as a plate because if it is a bowl, it would be very low on my list of favourite bowls.) However, it has a good sized flat area suitable for cutting food with a knife, but high sides that help keep sloppy things from going where I don't want them to go. I don't remember where it came from. I've only got one like it and have never noticed others like it at friends or relatives.

About six months ago I brought it to work so that I could eat a microwaved lunch with fewer plastic leachates.

It also turns out that I've saved about five paper plates already by having my own plate on Chili Days and Meatball Sandwich Days.

The only downside is getting used to washing dishes at work. I've been conscientious about going into the floor kitchen, waiting patiently for my turn at the sink, washing my plate, containers and cutlery, wiping off the counter and then taking my things back to my desk. One time, late in the afternoon, the kitchen was empty and I left my things in the sink to soak while I went to the bathroom. I meant to go right back, but I forgot.

I remembered about an hour later. When I got to the kitchen, I discovered that someone had washed and stacked my dishes for me. Oh, oh, I thought, now there's going to be a new note above the sink, or someone is going to send out an email: "Please do not leave your dishes in the sink - Your mother doesn't work here." But no such message appeared and since then I've been good.

That's why I was really surprised to see my second favourite plate on top of the microwave a couple of weeks ago. I figured I must have left it behind the last time I washed it, maybe because I'd washed a coffee cup in addition.

Walking back to my desk with it, I noticed a black dot that I didn't remember seeing before.

And then at my desk, I discovered why. The plate on the microwave was not my plate. It was a sibling. I turned them over and they had the same blue text on the bottom.

As I brought the plate with the black dot back to the kitchen, a string of thoughts went through my head:

1. It would be nice to have one of these at work and one at home.
2. The plate was left on top of the microwave. Probably abandoned.
3. But maybe not abandoned and so if I took it, it would be stealing.
4. So, okay, I'll put it back.
5. But what if somebody else notices what a terrific plate it is and they take it?
6. And then the plate owner sees me with my plate.
7. They will think that I stole their plate.
8. If they're going to think that I stole their plate anyway, maybe I should just do it.
9. No, no, stealing is wrong.
10. Okay, so does this mean I should take my second-favourite plate home and bring in my third-favourite plate?
11. Just put the plate back.

So that's what I did. It stayed on the microwave for about a week, but now I don't know where it is. And I have not yet been accused of stealing the plate that I actually own.

Harvard on microwaving plastics