There's nothing like getting a little wet at The Cottage Show.
Which is what happened to a lot of people courtesy of the enthusiastic "Dock Dogs" such as Chubby, the Black Lab, shown above.
Mississauga News Photographer Sabrina Byrnes caught Chubby just at the moment of unloading the bath tub with a magnificent belly flop yesterday in the "speed retrieve" category of the competition held yesterday during The Cottage Show at The International Centre.
The super-anxious dogs had to wait at the top of a ramp while their owners restrained them from breaking the laser "starting line" too early. Then the water dogs bolted for the pool that had been set up, dove majestically into the pond and swam to the other end where they grabbed a small buoy that had been mounted just above the water. Fastest dog wins.
You can bet the Dock Dogs will be back again, judging by the deep (and damp wet around the edges) crowd beside the pool tank.
Had never been to the show before in its 15 years at the former aircraft manufacturing facility in Malton.
Every retailer of every potential cottage product in the province must have been there. Not to mention every person in the GTA who owns a cottage or is thinking about owning a cottage.
There was a lineup to get into the parking lot at 10 a.m. Sunday. Hate to think what it was liking trying to exit at 5 p.m.
After a couple of hours of viewing a dozen different varieties of compostable toilets (moisture evaporation is the key to success if you must know) we went home happy that making all the host of critical retail decisions that supposedly await us this year — that big moose head with antlers or the kitschy little squirrel — are still a couple of months away.
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What else to do during Earth Hour Saturday night except to spy on the neighbours... er... rather to take a small sampling of neighbourhood participation in the event by strolling around the block? The nicest stop was in the middle of the school yard where the constellations were more visible than usual.
(It would have helped if all of the floodlights at the back of the school had been extinguished but I'm sure that would have involved someone coming in on the weekend, equivalent time off and a lot of union hassle.)
The results on our little crescent in Erin Mills were disappointing. Would estimate that only 40 per cent of houses were participating. You could see candles and the Leafs game on in a few places.
And, of course, the same people who put their piles of garbage every week on Monday at noon for Tuesday collection, don't use the green bin, bring their extra garbage bags (for which they have no tags) over to your house to join your lonely bag without asking — they are the ones who have every light in the house blazing away.
Enersource Hydro says that Mississauga's participation resulted in a drop of about 3.6 per cent in power use, which may be somewhat underestimated because it looks like a lot of residents started before 8 p.m.
On the bright side, maybe that means Mississaugans get the point. Instead of turning our lights off for a specified hour, we know we can make a much bigger difference over the next 365 days by turning the light off every day, every time we leave a room empty. If only.
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Too bad there weren't more people out last night at the ESC Lost Lounge to see a night of poetry and original song from local types.
It was my first exposure to "Slam Poetry" with its intentionally visceral in-your-face style.
When Jeff Cottrill took the stage, there was spit spewing everywhere as he chewed out a couple of intriguing pieces.
Slam poetry is half stand-up comedy and half Keystone cops, with a knowing edge, at least judging by Cottrill's pieces.
There was Cottrill — a graduate of the arts program at Cawthra Park — playing Sally in a blond wig dumping poor Jimmy, a guy who was just too nice, decent and kind for her to ever get excited about. Cottrill's salivating and palpitations as Sally twists in perceived forefplay as she describes the rotten jerk of her dreams was worth the ($6) price of admission.
The poet also excerpted King Lear in a two-man takedown with his partner, a frog puppet and performed How I Freaked Out the Spiderman Guy, in which a self-declared Spiderman expert learns the explosive facts behind the original animated series ("Wallopin' Websnappers") shot and voiced in Toronto.
Best of all, though, was "He Reads Michael Ondaatje" in which we meet the embodiment of the name-dropping literary pedant so incredibly anxious to impress us with his upscale reading habits.
Cottrill inhabited his skin and exposed him from the inside out. It was almost like being back in English class with one of those particularly supercilious profs.
Except we were allowed to laugh out loud without marks being taken off.