Eating for “O”

Thought I was original. Turns out really I’m old, and very common.

When it comes to my blood type that is.

It was through the Canadian Blood Services outreach program at Jumpship in the Inner Harbour that I discovered it.

That I’m O+ that is. For Canadians, the most common blood type amongst us. And did you know... For every one time you donate blood YOU can save up to THREE people's lives?

Turns out there’s been some research into diet and your blood type. What your blood needs. What's good, what's not.

This turned my head.

I’m good for meat!

Bad for dairy.

Happy for walnuts!

Poisoned by wheat.

Death by coffee or black tea.

But good for figs!

So I tried it. I took the challenge.

Walnuts, pumpkins seeds and figs for breakfast – MEDICINE!

Salads and some kind of meat with some nuts for lunch – MEDICINE!

Rice cakes with tahini and jelly for snacks - NEUTRAL.

Buffalo, onions, garlic, cayenne pepper, tumeric, sea salt, kale and broccoli all steamed together for dinner – YUMMY MEDICINE!

Wowzer I have good energy. It’s been just over a week. I had to wean myself off of bad habits, like coffee first thing and eliminate the fruits and produce that I don’t need - such as oranges and potatoes.

Here’s the cool thing. I’m eating healthy. I’m still healing from my accident May 22 with each day getting better and better, but truly - “Eating for O!” is the way to go!

Those muffin tops – they’re shrinking!

I can treat myself to something sweet. Which I do.

There’s neutrals which you can consume.

But here’s the thing. Every time I open my mouth to eat something I have to ask myself: “Is this medicine, neutral or poison?”

Just to be sure.

Happy to say, I’m doing real good “Eating for O!”

Author's note: It's my intention to regularly donate blood. However, I was informed because of my trip to Africa last fall I have to wait one full year before I am eligible to donate because of the threat of Malaria which may or may not be dormant but in my system. 

Fan Hype Not Fan Fever

Not one to watch hockey. Had enough of it when my son was growing up. Yet, tonight’s game drew me in.

The Stanley Cup Final. A win or die for the locals.

Earlier in the week during the game play lead up a prominent statue in Victoria’s Inner Harbour was sporting our very own Canucks jersey. A classic move for what would have been dominant era for the mood prude in the century of the individual it was erected after.

The energy was even high over the weekend when they did win. Young and old flying the flag. Screaming horns and waving fans, driving around in circles. In case anyone didn’t know.

A dollar off at some of the local vendors if you wore the jersey.

Someone’s blue pick-up truck complete with the team logo and whopper flags to boot.

Many, many, many car flags fluttering by.

On my way home tonight and the game start is on so I flick to the AM. I can hear the energy of the crowd as the team enters the arena.

Who doesn’t want the win?

At home I’ve got the tube dialed. We’re past the second period and the team is down. I check with Twitter and the fans that once were are already scattering.

Some Tweets resonate - don’t give up! Go down fighting!

Here in Victoria at Royal Athletic Park they’re leaving. Downtown Vancouver, the street party is thinning.

Yet the game's not over!

It’s not over till it’s over.

For all the fans that began the game, is that fan hype not fan fever?

Victoria International Cycling Festival

Jump Ship is all dialed in at Victoria's Inner Harbour!

A lot of talk went into a culmination of events that many have been heard to say, “It’s about time!”

True. Victoria is the Cycling Capital of Canada.

Cause we can. Ride that is. Like all year round.

Sure. We’ve got some bragging rights. Well more then that.

We’ve got folks with vision, charisma and gusto to walk their talk. To make it so.

I was stoked when I first met Rob Fawcett the guru behind the vision. The Victoria International Cycling Festival. He talked the talk by forming the circle. Bringing in the players. Delegating.

I heard it. Then I saw it.

Never thought I’d see a little mini Crankworx in Victoria’s Inner Harbour. The Jump Ship – lots of dirt on a barge for the World Class Freeride Competition. Complete with live DJ’s. A festival of food, beer garden and artisans.

Then a short stroll to the Harbour Sprints in front of the Legislature.
I remember zoot suites when they were in. The punk/pop era of the retro British wave. The dudes were happening. It wasn’t all spandex racing the 300 meters on their fixies. Run-off for the slow-down. Look ma no brakes!

Wicked cool is all I can say.

I watched the bike polo dudes as they dialed in their rides. Readying for the tourney on the streets tomorrow.

Three a side. Where’d they come from?
San Francisco, Idaho and California.

How cool is that.

The bike culture is like kids on a playground.

Doesn’t matter who you are. You can all play together. Have fun. Talk. Show some camaraderie for each other.

All around were smiles. On everyone’s faces.

Wild colours screeched by us to the finish. Cheers, cowbells and whistles were heard.

Later it was the win from the Canucks.

Tonight was epic.

The Victoria International Cycling Festival continues all weekend.

Ya gotta check it out.

Just sayin’.

How Grass Grows

All of a sudden it needs mowing again.

I drive by the park everyday. Some days there are dogs. Other times it’s empty.

Blissful with the backdrop of Victoria’s Inner Harbour.

Time again to mow it.

My, how time flies.

Before you know it the day turns to night. It’s sleep time. Wake-up now. A new day!

Another season comes. A full moon. A birthday. Christmas. A New Year.

Like the moon revolving around the Earth. The sun in the sky.

A child grows up into an adult.

We live.

We die.

And the grass?

My, how the grass grows.