We've had weather events in the last week all over the atmospheric map in this area. When we returned from our trip on Tuesday it was very warm at 26C, and sunny. The following day we had copious rain in the morning after an all-night rain event, but the sun came through and we had a lovely day, after all. More of the same in the day to follow, but Friday capped it all. Again, Thursday overnight heavy rain, on into Friday morning, and quite cool, around 14C. Then the sun erupted out of the cloud-shrinking sky and the temperature rose precipitously along with the humidity levels to reach 29C. Throughout the day there were really strong winds.

In the morning my husband had driven his truck to Canadian Tire to find out why the engine light had come on again. Before our trip he'd had it tested and everything was fine. The test analysis result was that a part needed replacement. By the time we'd had our early afternoon walk in the ravine, and my husband mowed the lawn, it was time to retrieve the truck, and he walked through the neighbourhood to the Canadian Tire store to pick it up. All the way he battled heavy headwinds, as the sun receded and heavy dark clouds returned.

He stopped by the supermarket close by to pick up a few food items and when he exited, rain had once again begun to fall, amidst raucous thunder and he watched on the near horizon as lightning lit up the sky and bright daggers erupted from black cloud to penetrate the ground below, then he reached home just as the wind increased and the rain came pelting down. I was at home, noting the flickering power in the house.

It was only the next morning that we realized the depth and extent of the weather phenomenon that had passed through this area. Two tornadoes, one hitting West Ottawa and Gatineau, Quebec with 235kmh winds, and a slightly weaker one hitting elsewhere in the area. Fifty homes were destroyed, a quarter-million people left without power, trees uprooted, hydro lines cracked, vehicles overturned and people evacuated from their homes until it was deemed safe for them to return. Two days later some have been allowed to return, and power has been restored to about 200,000, others will have to wait until emergency crews working frantically are able to fully restore capability.

Meanwhile, we've been able to resume our normal daily routine with no disturbances whatever. Going out daily for our usual ravine walks with Jackie and Jillie, working in the garden to begin the fall clean-up in preparation for winter onset. We've seen no damage in the forested ravine, other than a sprinkling of fallen twigs and foliage.

And we consider ourselves personally very fortunate indeed. Able to take satisfaction in the security we enjoy, while appreciating the misery visited upon others who have the misfortune of -- in this instance -- living in the direct path of a freak, weather-anomalous system whose powerful dimensions have shredded the security of their lives however temporarily. On the positive side of the ledger, no one lost their lives, and no injuries were reported.

Oliva Dionne, the quintuplets’ father, had this souvenir and refreshment stand at Quintland, where the public flocked to view the girls playing. Montreal Gazette files

The news media is always stuffed with sad and shocking news, some of an international character, other items closer to home, as it were. In our morning papers today there was news of the remaining two Dionne quintuplets, once viewed internationally as a sensation. The sisters born to a poor farming family in northern Ontario, represented the first time quintuplets in their entirety survived. And that was largely because the Government of Ontario at the time removed them immediately on birth from the care of their parents, building a medical facility specifically to house the babies and to confer expert medical care to ensure their survival.

At the same time, the Ontario government viewed the babies and their spectacular place in human curiosity on a world scale about their rarity, saw the quintuplets as a cash cow. They undertook to care for the babies into infancy and then childhood to give them a healthy start in life, and at the same time presented the children in their special facility as a exhibition for the public to pay a fee to be able to observe and admire them. The spin-off from ancillary products like dolls and china depicting the girls garnered further unprincipled riches to the province's treasury through marketing a coveted brand.

1940: The Dionne quintuplets starting first grade at six years old. Back row: Annette, Cecile and Yvonne; front, Emile and Marie. Instruction is conducted in French by Mille. Gaetane Vezina, appointed by the provincial board of education. Montreal Gazette files

Even the modest property of the parents with its rough log home was a place of great curiosity to the public willing to pay for the privilege of walking around the place and meeting the parents -- Elzire and Oliva Dionne -- of the famed children, enabling the girls' parents to amass a considerable fortune at the time. A fortune that their parents used to build a mansion of 19 rooms where the girls, at age 9, were housed once the parents won custody through a judicial decision. And where the girls as adults later claimed to have been sexually abused by their father and beaten by their mother.

1943: The Dionne quintuplets shortly before their 9th birthday. Montreal Gazette files

Those girls were born in 1934, and so the remaining sisters, Cecile and Annette are now 82 years old. Cecile's health is quite impaired while her sister's is more intact, enabling her to live independently in a middle-class condo in Quebec. Cecile, on the other hand, has more serious health problems requiring care, and she, living on a government pension of $1,443 monthly is a ward of the province of Quebec at an assigned privately owned seniors' residence in Montreal's north end. Cecile doesn't quite approve of the class of people living in the residence, but declared incapacitated by the Public Curator of Quebec must live where she is assigned to.

The sisters launched a legal suit against the Government of Ontario on the basis of having been exploited, and they were awarded a $4-million pay-out cash settlement in 1998. Cecile claims that her son Bertrand Langlois, third of her four children, took advantage of her to abscond with her money, effectively leaving her penniless. "I have no more money. So they put me under curatorship", she explained to the Montreal Gazette. Living in circumstances she deplores, complaining about the food, the service, the other residents, she thought of escape.

"But then I told myself, it's ridiculous to think like that. I said to myself, I just have to get used to it. I got it into my head that I have to do my best to accept it and to get to know the people better. And that helps me. They're not bad people. It’s difficult, because the screening is not selective, so the people are not always easy to live with. And the food is bad. At my age, it's difficult. But I clench my fists and I keep my head high", she said.

Cécile Dionne (right), with her sister Annette (they are the two surviving Dionne quintuplets, born in Ontario in 1934), places a photo of themselves and their sisters when they were children onto a a desk at the St. Bruno home of Annette. John Kenney / MONTREAL GAZETTE

Predictably, the parking lot was fairly full, though we had no problem finding a parking spot. It was Saturday, after all, and some people, particularly the young, find more value in being out in nature than crowding shopping malls. And, in fact, it was young people that we saw there in Gatineau Park, bicycling, hiking, walking in pairs or singly, making the most of an exhaustingly humid, hot day. Those familiar with woodland hikes, however, know that forests tend to be cooler places than urban streets; they know the leafy canopy above shields hikers from direct rays of the sun.

The main trail leading from the parking lot is mostly, and tiringly, uphill, to reach the various trailheads. Approaching the divisions marking various trailheads requires an effort in itself a short, yet prolonged hike from the parking lot, one that I'd never appreciated even in the days away back decades ago when this was one of our favourite trails. It's a relatively short drive from home to reach this point in Gatineau Park, so perhaps that's one of the reasons we favoured it.

Apart from its varied aspect and the challenges it presents, because it does present a physical challenge with countless loops, hills to be ascended throughout the circuit, and tricky footing thanks to the dominance in many places of old tree roots interlacing the trail, and rocky outcroppings underfoot. A slight breeze helped to keep mosquitoes and black flies to a minimum though as usual we attracted some. Black flies in particular seem to like flying directly into eyes and since we were in shade and it was fairly overcast for the most part I eschewed wearing sunglasses.

For the first half-hour it was in fact sunny. Soon afterward a twilight dimness descended and with it, rain. But the rain was very light. We had brought raingear with us, but it was too hot to put on rainjackets in any event. And the canopy did its job keeping us dry. The rain didn't last long, and soon enough petered out. When we did reach the opposite side of the loop eventually, we had the impression that there a heavier rain fell because the trail was newly soaked. Could very well have been a micro-event, descending heavily there, and that the edge of the rain was all that dampened our half of the loop.

We weren't long into our ramble before we came across a young couple perched on a rocky ledge, and of course Jack and Jill were immediately alerted to the irresistible fragrance of food. The couple was amenable to their approach; the young man asking if he could treat them, obligingly sliced small bits of cheese from a block he was holding, offering a tidbit to each of them, making of them lifelong friends though it's highly unlikely they'd ever see one another again. They'd gone as far as they meant to go and were soon to turn back while we forged on, meaning to complete the circuit.

It's a 5.7 kilometre loop and years back it would take us about an hour and a half to complete. Yesterday it took us two hours from parking lot to trail' switchback; trail back to parking lot. We're a lot older, needless to say. And on the return circuit of the loop we were pretty bushed. Well exercised, at the very least, although the return half is far less physically demanding than the initial half. At the lookouts viewing out over to the city, what remained of the morning fog seemed evident.

The forest is mostly comprised of maple, oak, beech and pine, an understory of striped maple and dogwood, and at this point in the season, asters, goldenrod, yarrow and Queen Anne's lace predominate. Ah, and the largest specimens of colonizing pussy-toes that I've seen, so far. Some cowslips, as well. And in certain places, a generous area of tiny, white-flowered plants resembling the flowers of bedding grasses.

From the plentiful rain we've been experiencing it was fairly wet underfoot, particularly on the second half where boggy areas were plentiful. We did recall many of the landmarks from our previous experiences with the trail, but were still somewhat surprised at the physical challenges the terrain presented for us. At our age, guess we can't complain. Jack and Jill certainly didn't.

As we were exiting, a young man on a bike courteously stopped and began to walk beside his bicycle. Jilly barked at him and I remarked to the young man that she's alerting him to the fact that he shouldn't be bicycling on that trail. He was taken aback and asked why not? I referred  him to the quite prominent signage introducing the trail which distinctly warn that bicycles are prohibited on that trail, mindful of the fact that many bicyclists just ignore the signs. He looked surprised, said he hadn't seen the signs, and walked back with his bicycle alongside us as we chatted, before he headed off for another trail that does permit mountain bikes.

Yesterday's cool, sunny and breezy atmosphere did an about-turn overnight. The skies were overcast and they shed fountains of heavy rain in a steady drum-beat of thunderous waterfall without thunder. My husband, anticipating just that, had mowed the grass at the front and back of the house in the morning. Although we've had more than ample rain this summer we were at the point where we needed rain to avoid using water needlessly to help the grass stay green, something we're reluctant to do.

Yesterday's fierce sun even with milder temperatures not geared to melt us into helpless heaps of sun-struck misery, took their toll on the garden with plants visibly taking to drooping. So the overnight rain was more than welcome. A fine time for rain to come down in any event, guaranteeing non-interference in daytime outdoor activities.

When we emerged from the house this morning before breakfast with our twin trouble-seekers, the rain had spent itself, with just a light sprinkle still in evidence. Jack and Jill are so fastidious about getting their feet wet, they do their utmost to avoid wet grass in the mornings, but this time it just wasn't possible since everything was soaked. They do tend to head right for the overhead protection afforded by the deck with its large space underneath, when it rains.

And, as always after the rain the garden colours seem to glow with an exuberance not seen at any other time. Colours are intensified and achieve shades of evanescent beauty owing to the effect of the moisture bringing out nuances of tint and tone barely hinted at, under dry conditions. The total effect is captivating, and leaves me standing in wonder at the spectacle before us.

Each part of the garden assumes its own pride of showy presentation. It's at times like that when having a camera at hand in an attempt to capture what the eye sees becomes an imperative. Invariably, unfortunately, the photographs are pleasant but the fact always is that what one sees in depth perception and mood is beyond the camera's capacity to emulate.

Two things, the confluence in the news of the Quebec election to take place on Monday, and the criticism levied at government for its move to amend the Elections Act to make it mandatory for legal and reliable personal identification to be presented at election time for voter qualification, and to phase out the vouching system which may be responsible for 25% of voter irregularities, top of the news in Canada.

The Bloc Quebecois, a federal political party with huge popularity in Quebec and Quebec only, once represented the official opposition in the House of Commons. Its mandate was to aid the Parti Quebecois, the provincial separatist party, to gain power and relevance, to enable enough Quebec voters to cast their vote for separation from Confederation. And the Canadian taxpayer, on top of handing over equalization payment roughly equivalent to 46% of the entire enterprise, with a handful of other provinces receiving far lesser amounts, also had to pony up financial support for the separatists in Parliament.

Now the Bloc barely has a presence in Parliament, and the Parti Quebecois's leader, Pauline Marois, having called an election because the opinion polls gave her party a whopping lead over the second-place Liberal party, has discovered her clever attempts at social engineering is not capable, after all, of leading her province to the Promised Land of Separation. In that it now looks very unlikely that the voters of Quebec will vote in sufficient numbers to give the Pequistes their majority enabling them to facilitate a referendum for secession.

And here's the really amusing part of it all. Looking back on the parliamentary record of decades ago, one finds this tidbit:

Canada Elections Act November 15th, 2007

Mr. Speaker, I think that the NDP's proposal, which would give voting rights to any person who swears an oath, is unacceptable. That proposal was rejected by the other three political parties last session during consideration of Bill C-31.

We believe it is reasonable to require photo identification, if available, to verify the identity of voters and ensure the integrity of the electoral system.

I would like to point out that there have been serious fraud cases. The time when someone could pile a bunch of people onto a bus and have a voter swear an oath to identify them is over.

 And who was the speaker? Why, Pauline Picard, then a Member of Parliament for the Bloc Quebecois.

She alluded to a time-dishonoured method of enabling voter fraud, when an desperately enterprising political party might pay vagrants and alcoholics a certain sum to have them vote ... bus them to a polling station where they would disembark, do their civic duty, having been vouched for under oath by a pol, then off they would go to spend their hard-earned gains.

It reminded me of an event that my husband recounted to me when once, many years ago, he had gone to the bank to extract $900 in cash for a vacation trip we were about to embark on. He was downtown, walking in the LeBreton Flats area, which back then was a deserted and fairly forlorn place just across from Quebec on the Ottawa side. He was startled to be accosted by a large burly man shuffling toward him, hand extended, begging for money.

The man explained he had just been released from prison and needed money for food. My husband reached awkwardly into his pocket, trying to discreetly detach a $20 bill from the roll that bulged in his pocket, handed it to the man who, eyes wide, thanked him profusely for his generosity.  And then followed my husband, to continue expressing his gratitude by exhorting my husband to tell him how he would like him to vote in the next election.

To be Canadian is for most of the population a proud identity symbol. In Quebec, not so much. It might be interesting to know how many Canadians identify themselves first and foremost as Canadians, and then identify with their province. We're not known as a nationalist population, but we do appreciate the fact that we have the privilege of living in this country and being a citizen of it. There are so many benefits accruing to us from that simple, yet complex fact, whether by inheritance of birth or through immigration.

The country is waiting on the tenterhooks of suspense to see whether the Parti Quebecois, the ultimate separatist party, will prevail in achieving their goal to be transformed from their current status as a minority-governing party to another majority when the votes are enumerated on Monday. The province's politics of exclusion, division, resentment and entitlement has been a bleeding thorn in the side of Confederation since forever, adopted and adapted by the PQ in a strenuous effort to overturn the British victory over French forces at the decisive battle of the Plains of Abraham which designated later Canada as a majority English-speaking population to the outraged angst of francophones.

Should the Parti Quebecois retain power with a majority government they will impose stronger regulations on language, where even at the present time English is being strangled out of existence in the province, and English Quebecers and allophones along with their francophone counterparts are poorer for it. Language discrimination that would never be countenanced elsewhere in the country, much less other Western democracies is rife, entrenched, very well institutionalized.

Priding itself on its secular governing character, the Pequistes have waged an underhanded war on religious minorities in the population. The new bill that Premier Pauline Marois, leader of the Parti Quebecois would bring into law on re-election would see all Quebec residents who wear what the PQ term 'conspicuous' religious symbols fired from their jobs in medicine, education, security, and the public service.

Quebec is a province notorious for its institutionalized corruption, existing at virtually very level of both private industry (particularly the construction trades) and at the municipal and provincial governmental agency levels. Its ultra socialist agenda provides perquisites for its population well beyond what other provinces can manage to do, and mostly because other provinces' tax receipts rendered to the federal government is redistributed to the "have-not" provinces, principally Quebec which views it as a cherished 'entitlement' that Quebec insists it requires as an exceptional 'nation'.

Yet despite the social, political, emotional blackmail that Quebec foists upon the rest of Canada, much has been tolerated as those in other provinces have pleaded repeatedly that Quebec remain within Confederation. Separatists envision complete sovereignty, proclaiming Quebec a nation unto itself, unique and beyond special.

According to Madame Marois, however, borders between Quebec and the rest of Canada can be loose but with separate passports, free trade unions that the federal government has signed with other countries should be open to a separated Quebec, and Canadian currency should be Quebec's as well, with Quebec given a seat on Treasury Board. The etceteras are too numerous and risible to list. As is the aggravation.

So Canadians can be forgiven for succumbing to the irritation of deja vu and wondering: Is it really worth the bother?