“I doubt whether the world holds for anyone a more soul-stirring surprise than the first adventure with ice cream.” – Heywood Broun

It’s hard to imagine a more ideal ice cream shop than the Rockcliffe Dairy Bar (or Bar Laitier Rockcliffe).  This little purveyor of frozen treats and nostalgia anchors the Rockcliffe Pavilion in Rockcliffe Park, carrying on a tradition that a local couple started back in 1929.

There’s nothing fancy about the place, just a selection of classic ice cream flavours (tiger tail, mint chocolate chip, pralines and cream) at incredibly low prices.  Our quartet can each get a cone (make mine a double), and it’s just $10.  Try doing that at your local gelateria.

To make it even more better, the place is run by the boys scouts.  That’s right, your double scoop waffle cone helps support our brave young men in uniform.  It’s actually your civic duty to eat their ice cream, and the more often, the better.

As if that’s not enough, Rockcliffe Park also happens to be one of the prettiest spots in the entire city.  There’s nothing better than enjoying your ice cream while standing in the Rockcliffe Pavilion (circa 1917), looking down on the confluence of the Gatineau and Ottawa rivers.  Toss in a sunset over the Gatineau Hills and you’ve achieved perfection.

You can find Rockcliffe Park on the Rockcliffe Parkway.  Just head east on Sussex, past the Prime Minister’s residence and Rideau Hall.  The dairy bar is open most evenings during the summer – get there a bit before sunset to avoid disappointment.

Highlights from a recent All About Me! feature during day camp.

My name is K.  I am five years old.

My favourite food is pasta (cappelletti).

My favourite colour is green.

My favourite sport is swimming.

My favourite toy is all of the toys in my box.

My favourite animal is a baby panda.

My favourite thing to do is go to school.

My favourite thing about myself is that I can do things my brother can’t.

When I’m older I want to be myself.

For the second year in a row, I was fortunate enough to attend the Winnipeg Folk Festival.  Many of the things I wrote about in last year’s post still hold true – it’s simply a fantastic music festival.

I think my experience at the festival is probably atypical.  First, I was there by myself.  Festivals are, by their very definition , festive, yet it’s a little hard to get in the mood when you’re alone.  I’m not looking for pity – it’s just a fact.  I’m sure if I was there with friends, or my family, the whole experience would be even better.  Second, I was there primarily to advance plans for next year’s festival of Prairie artists.  As a result, I was a little more focused on a smaller group of artists and didn’t wander from stage to stage as much as I might under different circumstances.

I was a big fan of several new initiatives at the WFF this year.  Free WiFi backstage and by the Main Stage was very helpful, the second beer tent by the Big Bluestem stage offered a welcome respite during the heat and shelter during the brief rain showers, and new artists like the Zero Gravity Circus helped round out the programming.

Highlights for me included:

- Del Barber, a talented young singer-songwriter from Manitoba.  If you’re in Ottawa, you’ll have the chance to catch him at Raw Sugar on August 22 and up at the Blacksheep on September 17;

- The first public performance of Jim Bryson and The Weakerthans;

- The tribute to 90-year old folk icon Oscar Brand was touching.  Oscar is a living legend, and reading his bio makes you wonder how one man can do so much – he’s a singer-songwriter, radio host, and was the inspiration for Oscar the Grouch.  The Duhks’ performance of The Winnipeg Whore was suitably bawdy.

- Meeting John K. Samson, lead singer of The Weakerthans and Winnipeg’s unofficial Poet Laureate.  John was everywhere during the festival – performing, hosting workshops, mentoring musicians in the Young Performers Program.  The fact that most people sitting around me were mouthing the words to every one of his songs is a good indication of his stature in the ‘peg;

- The Swell Season’s performance on the main stage Friday night.  I will admit to getting a little verklempt when Glen Hansard launched into Leave;

- The thousands of dragonflies who swarmed all over Birds Hill Park and (mostly) kept the mosquito population at bay.

Konono No. 1 (AKA L’orchestre folklorique T.P. Konono Nº1 de Mingiedi) was my favourite discovery of the weekend. The collective from Kinshasa in the Democratic Republic of Congo, with their take on electro-traditional Congolese dance music, was simply stunning. I’m a sucker for thumb piano, so any band that features three of them (called likembés) is off to a good start with me.  Here’s a short clip.

For the better part of six summers (1993 through 1998), I spent a great deal of time dressed in wool.  First in the Band of the Ceremonial Guard, then for five years in the Fort Henry Guard, I experienced the unique joy that comes with covering practically every inch of my body with heavy, itchy, unforgiving wool during the hottest months of the year.

During my frequent interactions with the public, the number one question they asked (especially on days like today when the temperature soars above 30 degrees) was “Are you hot in that?”

Remember back in school when the teacher said there were no stupid questions?  Well, that one is the exception to the rule.

The Ceremonial Guard had advantages and disadvantages compared to Fort Henry when it came to wool.  On the good side, you only had to wear the full uniform in the morning for the Changing of the Guard ceremony.  On the bad side, the dress uniform is really thick.  With wool pants, wool jacket (complete with lining), big black boots, and a bearskin hat, exposed skin is hard to come by.  Throw on the bass drummer’s apron and you were bound to have a difficult hour.

Staying on your feet during heat waves was both a mental and physical challenge.  There were tricks you could use to prepare for it – some were just common sense (always eat a good breakfast, drink lots of water), others were a little odd (don’t drink milk because it will curdle in your stomach).  While I was standing at attention, I’d wiggle my toes and flex my leg muscles to keep the blood moving.

The mental part was sometimes more difficult to control.  When you have nothing to do but stand still for 30 minutes, you have lots of time to think about the heat, feel the sweat slowly trickle down your back, and wish for just the slightest breeze.  Eventually the bearskin hat would begin to dig into my forehead (we called it bear bite), and you would become fixated on the pain.

Lots of people asked if I ever fainted.  I didn’t, although some of my friends did.    I came close a couple of times – it began with a sick feeling in my stomach, a sense of weakness, and then little black dots began appearing in front of my eyes until nearly everything was black.  I would have gone down for sure if we hadn’t been given the order to march off and the blood began flowing to my brain again. Taking a knee was not an option – it just wasn’t done.

People always laughed when a member of the Guard fell, but it’s not really that funny.  You’re out before you hit the ground, so you can’t break your fall.  If you’re wearing a snare drum or a tuba, it can be pretty painful.

If you’re cursing the heat tomorrow, just remember that it could be worse – much worse.