​Sustaining a position on my bucket list for at least half a year now, Treetop Trekking was finally attempted in the first month of their seasonal reopening. The activity is offered at a handful of locations throughout the GTA, yet it was the exclusivity of the Blue Heron Zipline that steered me in the direction of Brampton.

Availability of interested acquaintances was canvassed around late March/early April. It was also amidst this research process that I learned of a 20% discount for all bookings made in the month of April. Keen to take advantage of this promotion, I proposed the 30th - the last possible day for the offer to apply, as well my only free Saturday at the time of planning.
We secured the 2 PM slot, surrendered the atrocious admission fee, then completed the e-waiver shortly afterwards. Aerial Game Treks were priced at $64 per adult; even with the discount applied, the cost per person totalled a whopping $51.20 plus tax. 

​My partner-in-crime for the day was well versed in climbing, specifically bouldering, and was not only willing to invest funding into this activity, but also energy for chauffeur services. It was greatly appreciated, especially in consideration of the dreadfully exhausting weeks I had experienced leading up to the day.

I first requested a stopover at The Beer Store. The request stemmed from a sudden urgent need to clear out deposit recovery cans. Waterloo Brewing's new Field Berry Radler was acquired during this visit.
We forgoed the grand opening queue at The Alley and headed straight to Brampton instead.

​At the nearest McDonald's, a Big Mac Extra Value Meal and Bacon and Grilled Chicken McWrap filled our stomachs, preparing us for the surprisingly strenuous schedule ahead.

Heart Lake Conservation Area adopted a similar layout (and signage!) to Albion Hills, being a TRCA park. Admission fees were waived for those with Treetop Trekking confirmation emails, though other entrants were subject to day use rates of $7.75 plus tax. Entering the park without any further instructions from the admission fee collectors, we found our way to the Treetop Trekking station via guiding arrows.

I switched into hiking shoes and coated myself in a thorough layer of insect repellant before proceeding.

​A sheltered check-in desk and logo-donning trailer office welcomed us. Yellow wristbands were provided following check-in; washroom usage was advised prior to gathering at the equipment station. I had anxiously reminded myself to limit water intake in fear of a lack of indoor plumbing. Thankfully, the brick building by the entrance indicated otherwise.

​Helmets and harnesses would be provided to each of the registrants for the 2 PM slot. Bulky bags were advised to be left behind, though waist packs and small backpacks were not uncommon amongst the group. A hoodie I had initially borrowed in fear of chilly conditions was left at the front desk, for gentle infiltration of UV rays foreshadowed overheating.

​Mother Nature, the indecisive higher being, has a tendency to be extra undecided towards Ontarians. A jacket-less March and shedding plus storage of my down puffer wasn't indicative of an early spring. T-shirt weather was still a bit away, and snow hadn't escaped us entirely yet either.

​​​The first signs of a new season were audible before they were visible. A delicate croon of chirps from my backyard prompted me to straighten my neck, peering beyond the laptop screen that filled my everyday work-from-home existence. The trees remained barren before a backdrop of brilliant blue.

​But animals of creatures of survival. Despite the lack of climate clarity, warmer temperatures had been forecasted. Our humble abode began to swell with invaders, ants specifically, in search of respite.

​The week had commenced with expired mint chocolate truffles (a gifted package from forgotten Christmas inventory), braised pork with purple yam (quite the splendid suggestion, if I do say so myself), and the most unexpected timing for a stork sighting.

​I've foregoed brunch for quite a while now. The day-to-day working routine favours quick, caffeinated breakfasts to fuel productivity. It then usually transitions into a late lunch, a later afternoon snack, and even later exercise periods and dinners. Weekends differ not too vastly, for the body has grown accustomed to waking within a range.
"Leisurely" is a manner by which I am unable to progress through my daily duties, for it is a constant race against time. With every patched hole, at least two new holes surface in the canoe of life. Resilience is gradually receding.

​A devastatingly demanding week sent me into a slump. I wished for rest, yet a slew of tasks awaited my consideration and organization. The sleepy polar bear offered to undertake an active approach on planning, allowing me to reserve energy for tackle my endless to-do list. I was both anxious and curious for the outcome, but accepted after evaluating levels of physical and mental fatigue - and even refrained from posing questions.

​​Around 12:45 PM, we arrived at Pür & Simple in Heartland. The brunch spot had surfaced on my feed countless times over the past several weeks, leading to familiarity with the name, though I hadn't investigated any further. Its location was interesting, nestled in the same plaza as Best Buy, Five Guys, and The Halal Guys; it satisfied a niche customer base unsatiated by the existing roster of businesses.

Frankly, I was beyond surprised - pleasantly taken back, even. A social media favourite - free from greasy fumes! - was the last thing I expected.

​​The dining quarters were rather tiny, with tables placed relatively close to one another and incredible noise levels. We strolled in to a packed scene and were informed of an approximate forty-five minute wait. The hostess relayed the possibility of reservation cancellations, as "it always happens", with the next booking in ten minutes. I inquired further about a two-seater by the door and the probability of that table being available within a range of ten to forty-five minutes. She contemplated the question for a brief moment, then granted us the table without hesitation, as the pre-booked were "likely to cancel anyway".
We excitedly slid into the compact table, thankful towards her decision. Its positioning by the entrance wasn't ideal given the occasional gusts from the door opening, but it wasn't a big deal either as temperatures weren't that cold. Moreover, there was no wait time!

Double-sided printed menus were placed before us, joining the monogrammed syrup bottle. Pür & Simple's menu was exceptionally diverse: my eyes glazed over a plethora of sweet and savoury brunch options, ranging from classics like Eggs Benedict and Breakfast Burritos to modern picks of Crepes and amped-up French Toast.

We took to sharing one sweet item and one savoury item, much as how a fellow July baby does.
​No-Gria, the virgin rendition of a sangria, was requested to pair alongside our selection. Sprite/7-Up was substituted with carbonated water, keeping the drink refreshing without being too sweet. Fresh berries was a splendid addition for infusion. The paper straw disintegrated and unraveled over time, prompting a request for a new one about three-quarters through our stay.

View the full album HERE !

Sharing plates were requested of our waitress, who was unmasked while serving, unlike the hostesses. An overhead conversation with our neighbours informed of her previous post at Cora's, as well as her grateful attitude towards Pür & Simple's lack of oil stench - music to my ears, honestly. The same waitress was also observed responsible for majority of the tables on one side of the bustling restaurant. Her attitude remained amicably, amazingly, and did not evoke expressions of exasperation or fatigue. In general, all members of the customer-facing staff were friendly and responsive.

​The Mexican Skillet and French Toast Crisp arrived shortly, quickly occupying whatever table space we had left. Napkins, water cups, and maple syrup were shuffled about to accomodate the platter, ketchup, and tobasco.

Forks flew towards the Mexicana Skillet. Arranged within the not-so-scorching iron plate, we found well-balanced flavours: a subtle crunch from taters, the soft profile of black beans, butteriness from ripe avocado slices, satisfying strings of melted cheese, tartness from tomatoes, and the sturdy yet runny cross-section of easy-over eggs. A spoon was later requested to portion out the dish. Complaints of insufficient cheesiness were heard from across the table, though I personally found the assortment perfect and well-rounded. I was particularly appreciative of the mildness of the skillet, for even the salsa-like component was mild and free from the typical pungency of Mexican-themed fare.

Happy Earth Day!

The adventure had been impromptu, irrelevant of the annual celebration of our planet but full embodying its spirit nonetheless.

​For the second consecutive week, I drew closure on yet another devastating five-day workload. The mind needed clearing, with no more further exposure to the dreaded screen and all its eyeball-blazing, neck-tensing, wrist nerve-damaging effects.

​My thighs were still a tad fatigued to embark on another cycling trip, but I was keen to undertake a solo walk, preferably one in close proximity to home. Meadowvale Conservation Area was about fifteen minutes of local roads and blue skies away. The area was actually quite familiar to me, but not from the perspective of a driver. Long before license acquisition, I was, too, a receiver of rides, seeking familiarization via landmarks and repetitive visits.

Google Maps led me to a homey neighbourhood with narrow roads - two lanes, one in each direction. I then diverted north, arriving at the rather desolate-looking site. But the address was correct, for one of the City's new, plasticky signs had been installed.

​A few cars had already parked in the unpaved gravel lot. I joined them, then switched into hiking shoes for improved ankle stability. The trail head was extremely muddy, though I plodded through without fear, equipped with dirty-able boots and nylon pants. To the north was Davidson Trail, and the south Culham Trail; both signs were faded, revealing signs of extreme weathering, yet maintaining their objective of navigation all the same.

Davidson Trail led upwards along the Credit River, under the Derry Road overpass, and out towards a clearing for a closer view of the water. Following the path, I would traverse along the man-made lake known as Meadowvale Ponds.

View the full album HERE !

​The scenic view would end at a dilapidated trail, which was paved for a portion of the way before disassembling into shambles of asphalt. I continued uphill, ignoring the accessibility restrictions, until the path ended abruptly, failing to assume the form of a trail at all.

Within the span of one hour, my Monday evolved from a leisurely acquaintance of design documents and tutorial files to a rapid review of background information, including an eight-page SOP, and the second speediest production of a draft I've ever completed. (The first was a Project-Specific Health and Safety Plan spanning eleven documents finished at 11 PM on the date of assignment.)

Having received exclusive training in capital projects, many of my proposals and/or solutions are formulated to function regardless of scale. Automation and efficiency are prized elements in the realm of project management, though it hadn't occurred to me that this value would vary amongst smaller projects.
The teams - or team, rather - was compact, as was the project budget. The pace was noticeably slower, from the meetings to the processing speed to the comprehensive of data familiarization. That said, there lies opportunity in tasks of all categories and calibers. A condensed crew meant more frequent communication, along with room for error and experimentation. The comparatively more forgiving nature corresponded with reduced stress levels, for while deliverables would be as per the contract, there was greater tolerance for slowness, stupidity, and slipups.

​The days were filled with Oolong and Earl Grey Lattes with homemade ginger syrup retained from the prior week's frozen glutinous rice balls from T&T. ​Only minor differences were perceived between the two stone-milled tea powders: the Earl Grey was a bit more savoury, and the Oolong smokier in profile.

​Soft-boiled eggs and Pecan White Chocolate Chip Cookies were also prepared for easy consumption.

​Glorious, double-digit weather nudged retrieval of the bike once more. Feeling intrepid, I embarked on a longer journey than usual, opting to wind through a portion of the Sawmill Creek trail section before taking an unexpected detour onto Belvedere Crescent. The path joined the Burnhamthorpe MUP, leading over the Credit River for, arguably, the best view in the city.

​Travelling southbound on Culham Trail, I dodged many a fishing rod and persevered over the craggy aggregate used to salvage the trail from washouts. Eventually, I made it to a calm clearing comprising primarily of dirt trails with the occasional puddle.

​Erindale Park came into view, and, with it, a number of pedestrians and dogwalkers. Speed was reduced to accommodate more trail users. Not sure where to head next, I pulled aside to review my options: to loop back into the park towards UTM or continue eastwards to Confederation Parkway, where an on-road bike lane was confirmed exist. With nearly an hour until sundown, I bit the bullet and began dragging my quivering thighs up Dundas Street.

​There is an indescribable anxiety that comes with inactivity: a feeling of lost opportunity due to lack of productivity. Thoughts of rest and recovery normally take a back seat until the fatigue can be postponed no longer. To be engaged in work is a day well spent, and clearly I've been engaged enough this past week to automatically forego rest.

​Pilates (feat. Teaser Tuesday) was slipped into my self-declared weekday lunch break in order to accommodate a post-work visit to the sleepy polar bear.  Forearm planks were executed with much difficulty following a nasty elbow scrape from the overzealous dive at Nerf Challenge from the weekend prior.

A Grapefruit Yakult with Coconut Jelly from CoCo rewarded my exercise-and-cake-finalizing efforts, bringing about invigoration and zing to an otherwise incredibly hectic day.

Meals of the week comprised of 粟米斑塊, a Cantonese classic, and last-minute additions from Taza Xpress for iron needs.

​It was regrettable that the Beef Shawarma was not only tough and dry, but also peculiarly sour. The hummus was soupy and similarly tart, as if lightened with lemon juice (likely, to be fair). Black and green olives had been plopped onto the surface, enabling a brief period of infusion. The accompany Pita wrap was as dry and rigid as the shawarma. It should also be noted these observations were made following a ridiculously lengthy delivery period, exceeding the UberEats estimate of 10-20 minutes and extending it to 40 minutes instead.

​The remaining Black Sesame Purple Glutinous Rice Dumplings from T&T were served as a mid-afternoon snack with homemade ginger syrup - crafted with yellow rock sugar rather than the typical dark brown to draw emphasis to spiciness instead of nutty, caramel notes.

A sudden penchant for 2020's coveted Dalgona Latte propelled me to recreate the specimen with a 1:1:1 ratio of decaf Nespresso Gold, granulated sugar, and hot water.

​​Nighttime saw the release of Jinyoung on Youngjae's radio segment, where I relished in the all-too-familiar chuckles and characteristically GOT7 goofiness with a side of Waterloo Craft Lager. Yacha ("Yaksha" on Netflix) was slated to premiere worldwide the morning after.

​As temperatures soared to double digits in the latter half of the week, I opted to adopt active transportation for my post-work plans. Navigating about my community on foot is often the best way to identify areas requiring infrastructure improvements, as well as areas deserving commendation.

Baking endeavours serve as the ideal amalgamation of innovation, precision, and fridge purgation.

More often than not, I construct my next creation based on available inventory and its best-before declaration. The objective is rarely altered, though additional constituents may be incorporated to facilitate consumption of weary ingredients.

​Of course, the amount of liberation varies from project to project. Similarly, some creations may come to be without utilizing items of prior preparation.

​In the weeks leading up to the sleepy polar bear's annual celebration of birth, I embarked on a journey to determine flavours and textures of interest. Earning the highest praise was the Layered Chocolate Cake for its chocolatey-ness, followed closely by my impromptu Tiramisu Cake for its airy sponge. A Mango Yogurt Mousse composed of homemade Mango Jam and yogurt-enhanced mousse was also sent in for feedback, though the response was far more subdued than expected, alluding to the preference for creamy cakes rather than fruity.

The sweet-salty profile of pistachios had been made known to me during a visit to Nani's Gelato. In an attempt to emulate the essence, I hunted down a source of pistachios, grew appalled at the price per unit, and shifted my focus to pecans instead. Toasting the a small tray's worth then passing it through a food processor yielded pecan butter - an obscene amount, might I add. This intermediate product was then folded into sweetened whipped cream, along with a minute amount of gelatin, to form a pecan mousse.

​Two sheets cakes were also constructed: a plain (vanilla) sponge and chocolate slab, both from Sunday Baking's roster of recipes. The vanilla sponge was a safe bet, given its positive response in the Tiramisu Cake. The denser, moister chocolate cake was not quite as durable, and crumbled nearly immediately even after cooling. Taste-wise, it was not too distant from a brownie, yet malleable was lacking for use in a tiered cake. A part of me wondered whether it had mattered that cocoa powder and the melted chocolate-butter mixture had been incorporated at the same time, rather than fat first and flour later. Constructing the vanilla sponge in a similarly rushed format, 10 g of excess honey were added into the yolks. The cake emerged sweeter than desired when sampled by itself, yet acceptable once incorporated as part of a whole.

​Feelings of frigidity ought to have forecasted its arrival: flurries flitted into view on Sunday morning, supposed having commenced the evening prior. Few specks remained on the ground though, for external temperatures promoted a dissolution rate proportional to their descent.

​​Dreariness and dull grey over my head, I readied myself for pilates, shimmying into the hoodie of the sleepy polar bear I had hurriedly demanded to combat the chilly return ride of the evening prior. Much to my excitement, the warmup series would incorporate the Bosu ball once again: 40 counts of walking, then 20 counts of running with an immediate swap to the other starting leg. Side leg lifts, oblique crunches, and genie twists for the transverse abs sealed off the Bosu section.

With the footbar in the lowest position, gear bar in the second position, and stopped in the third, we proceeded onto core work. A foam roller was placed underneath the hips, laid horizontally to intersect the Carriage at 90 degrees. The addition would summon an imprint pelvis as to prevent shifting of the foam roller. Prepwork involved lifting one leg to tabletop position, then drawing circles with the knee. These circles were executed in a counter-clockwise direction for 15 counts, then clockwise for 20 counts. Clicking could be audibly heard in the right hip, prompting instructions to reduce the range of motion (lessen the circle diameter). From there, the following ensued:

• Single leg toe touches from the tabletop position
• Double leg toe touches from tabletop position (required checking of foam roller position)
• Double leg lifts - as far as could be maintained but not all the way (blogilates-style) since form was not to be compromised

​Shifting the foam against the shoulder rest, side-lying thigh exercises were conducted. Threading the top foot through the hand straps, the leg was lifted to hip height while maintaining knees bent at 90 degrees for both legs. Maintaining a neutral pelvis, we would:

• Extend the top leg in "one long line", then return to the starting position
• Keeping the top leg extended, bring the leg in front of the body while maintaining the neutral pelvis, then return to the lifted "one long line" position
• With the upper foot in a turnout position, raise the leg up towards the ceiling, then bring it back down to the body (adduction) for engagement of the inner thighs

These were, quite literally, a pain in the butt. The instructor had used one blue spring for the right hip and increased the tension with one more white spring for the left side to rectify muscle imbalance, but its impacts weren't as drastic as I had expected. Rather, it was more challenging with the right leg lifting and left hip planted on the Carriage, as hip stability played a vital role in maintaining stillness of the pelvis.

Modifying the routine to engage the upper body, the top hand was threaded through the tension strap. The starting position involved the upper arm extended at shoulder height, perpendicular to the body. Exhaling, the strap would be pulled towards the hip (adduction), then back to shoulder height. Notable shakiness was witnessed in the dominant right arm, even more so than the left. Weakness in the right wrist and shoulder were not unexpected due to my recent lack of diligence in stretching and resistance band usage, though I did find it peculiar that the left side showed greater stability. Tenderness in the triceps, chest, and shoulder was then felt for the subsequent four days.

Utilizing the Reformer Box in the Long box position facing the footbar, we continued with exercises  for upper body mobility: lateral shoulder raises with the palms facing upward and chest pullbacks ("gathering of the wings"!).

With the Reformer Box in the Short Box position angled over foot bar, such that the long edge was elevated slightly, and feet placed atop shoulder rests, bridges were conducted at low spring levels. The exercise was a true testament of body control. We would then push out the Carriage while in bridge position and retract, isolating the hamstrings while engaging the largest glute muscles.

Side stretches in mermaid position were then executed on both sides, facing perpendicular from the Carriage, followed by a standing hamstring stretch (pedalling the feet) and slow-and-steady rolldown to finish.

En route back to the west side of the GTA, I opted to detour for a sweet, icy beverage. Palgong's Mint Chocolate Smoothie was too far, Gong Cha's lack of parking proved annoying, and CoCo wasn't particularly on the way. Stifling these desires, I eventually found myself at Esso, then laid eyes on Circle K.

I was reminded of a modification made aware to the sleepy polar on a site visit: an Iced Capp with Chocolate Milk. Resist did I not, but enjoy did I neither. The purchase was swiftly made, granting a sip of insane sugariness amidst barely perceivable notes of coffee. I lifted the paper straw just enough to catch the topmost section of the drink, allowing the stickiest, densest parts to fall to the bottom. Eventually, I could withstand the sweetness-induced headaches no longer, forfeiting the monstrosity to the instigator.

Scrambling to render myself somewhat presentable, I donned a fuzzy sweater, some glitter, and sports leggings in preparation for a brief meeting with one of the July babies. 

​It may come across contradictory that, while I enjoy planning and anticipating the various outcomes of proposed events, I also find tremendous joy in straying from the general itinerary along the way to introduce new opportunities. There is, obviously, less freedom in the workplace for such endeavours, though I hesitate not to incorporate such ideas to enrich the mundane of daily life.

​My week commenced with few meetings and pork, tomato, and potato soup livened with the additions of moderately melted mozzarella.

The sole creation of the week is a Lemon Pound Cake with Pink Lemonade Glaze.
With an upcoming group badminton session, I deemed it the perfect chance to test SK's lemon pound cake recipe. The quantity of batter would fill a Bundt cake tin, making it ideal for portioning and distributing.

​Our fridge's fresh lemons served me well, offering its distinctly zesty properties into the cake. I had, out of caution, reduced sugar levels by 30% in both the cake and glaze, and further swapped buttermilk for plain yogurt, as it happened to be on hand and in need of use (read: expiring soon).

The cake unmoulded relatively easily, though could have used an additional 2-5 minutes for improved crunchiness. Baking for 52 minutes at 350 F yield a nice, golden top, but unevenly toasty-toned edges - could it be the fault of my (dented) vintage pan?

In an attempt to intensify the glaze's yellow hue, I reached for the food colouring. Single drops of red and yellow earned me a muted orange. A drop of green was incorporated to ground the colour back to yellow, yet the result was too green. Some more salvaging efforts later, I ultimately ended up with a sewage-like grey. Panic ensued briefly. A few additional drops of red brought the colour to an acceptable shade reminiscent of dusty rose and pink lemonade.