Finally, a day in which something exciting happened: I bought a new guitar. It's a beauty, too. Thing's made entirely of graphite, which provides great stability and (hopefully) a long, consistent life. Playing it is like playing silk, if that's a permissible metaphor. Not sure it actually works, but you probably get what I'm trying to say.
And evidently, buying a graphite guitar is a way in which I'm helping the environment. According to the salesman, Sitka spruce (the wood that most regular guitars are made from) is quickly becoming scarce due to the influence of the Asian housing market (if all else fails, let's just blame it on the Asians, I suppose). In fact, according to some estimates, we may be completely out of Sitka in six years or less. Thus, in purchasing a graphite guitar, I have not contributed to the further deforestation of the Sitka spruce.
However, I bet my "carbon footprint" (I put it in brackets because it's not a real thing, as some would have us believe) is huge considering the guitar is made completely of carbon. Hmm.
In other exciting news, we also went to see Spider Man 3. A good, if not great, movie. It had all the web-slinging action one would expect from that venerable franchise of comic book-dom, but it lacked a certain je ne sais quoi that I think the other movies had. The villains were alright and the storyline was okay, but it felt like they mailed it in a little bit. The main issue was that the ending was somewhat unsatisfactory.
Spoiler text time. For those who've seen it, highlight this block of material with your mouse and it'll magically appear. For those who haven't seen it, skip to the next block of white text (note: couldn't quite get the text colour to match the background exactly--oh, the imperfections of Blogger. It should be adequately concealed, but if you're really anal about it, there are only two paragraphs of it, so scroll past. Sorry about that).
Oy, that ending! I understand the importance of teaching moral lessons--in fact, I'm quite impressed with the calibre of I'm-okay-you're-okay lessons in that one--but seriously, how many misunderstood villains can Spidey possibly team up with? So what, the sandman realizes the error of his ways and stops robbing banks? Hello, your kid is still sick! What are you going to do, go on daytime TV and tell them how you're a really good guy who's gotten some bad breaks?
And then there's that storyline with Harry. Gosh. For two movies now, Peter's been trying to tell this dolt that he didn't kill his dad, and he doesn't believe it. Meanwhile, the trusty butler (in a scene that felt out-of-context) tells him the same thing, and he suddenly believes him? What, not a word of question? And then, he has this attack of conscience and decides to valiantly fight alongside our hero, even giving his life for the greater good? Wow. I think I missed the part where I was supposed to connect with the character's motivations. In fact, they could've spent a lot more time on that, and a lot less time on the I'm-going-to-ask-MJ-to-marry-me storyline.
Anyway, this reviewer gives it 3 noodles out of 5. Why noodles? Not sure. It seems every other arbitrary standard is taken, so why not? As much as it (the movie, not the noodle) was disappointing in some parts, it was still a Spider Man movie, and it still had those eye-popping special effects that will keep me coming back. And hey, what person (or what guy, at least) doesn't watch a superhero movie and come out feeling just a little bit more pumped up? Whenever I see a movie like that, it makes me want to go save a damsel in distress (spoiler-text bracket joke: as long as I don't kiss her, I suppose).
With that, another entry comes to a close. Since I've stopped updating my other blog, I've decided to make Fridays picture days around here, so tune in for tomorrow's entry--it'll be fun. Thanks for stopping by. See you tomorrow.
5.24.2007
5.23.2007
Wednesday, May 23
Dancing with the stars is on again. Fortunately, it's the finale. Unfortunately, I don't get to mock it anymore. But hey, Canadian Idol is starting soon, so at least I can mock Ben Mulroney. Of course, that would necessitate watching it, which I won't, but I'm sure I can make some generic pokes at him, and they'd be reasonably accurate.
Anyway. It's 20 minutes until a new champion is crowned, so I have to finish this posting in that amount of time. No problem.
We had a very exciting day today--the boy went to his first hockey game. What a lot of fun. At first, he was a little bit hesitant about the whole process--lots of people, a strange atmosphere--but he warmed up to it really well by the second period. He made friends with Tony the Tiger, or at least a guy in a Tony the Tiger suit, which was a whole lot of fun, too. Biggest cat he's ever seen. He even made the cheerleaders ooh and aah (yes, there are cheerleaders. No, you don't want to get me started on that topic). Great times were had by everyone.
Man, I'm really pumped about the whole thing. Even sitting here recalling it makes me proud to be the father of the best kid on the planet (and the cutest, too). This stretch is making all the adversity worthwhile, and then some. Although there were times during the colicky phase where I literally wanted to throw him out the window, the payoff for getting through that is so enormous that it's hard to put into words. There's just something so special about the relationship you have with your kid. Amazing.
Here I go, gushing on again. Gosh. What else of note happened today? Well, it's day 24 after graduating, and still no word on a job. I'm really trying to stay calm and relaxed, but it's hard. I need something to occupy some time and at least make a little bit of money so that I don't feel like the most useless husband on the face of the planet. The last day I worked was August 31, 2005, and it's starting to get to me in a very deep way. But it'll all work out, I know it. And one day, I'll look back on this time and reflect on the many lessons I learned about character from it. But those lessons are hard to see in the haze of the moment. I hope that I can learn something going through the process, but it's usually the reflection afterward that teaches the most. I will eventually get a job. Stay positive.
All that to say that today was like every other unemployed day--I felt useless. I did manage to tend my garden a bit, which made me feel good. Also went to the park with the wife and the boy, and played and read books as usual. It's funny, because he has no idea what's going on in our lives--he's happy-go-lucky and everything's right in his world. Must be a nice place to be.
Okay, stop with the self-flagellation. Sorry. I will eventually find a more positive tone in this blog, I really will. It's just going to take some time is all. I'm leading worship again this Sunday at our home church, so that should get me feeling at least a little bit useful again. Oh, and we're going to go see Spiderman 3 tomorrow, so fun times will be had there.
I've tried so hard to stretch this posting about nothing into something, and I think I've done well, but I also think I need to stop. Oh, and for the record, Dancing with the Stars just redeemed itself a little--two of the contestants just did a Star Wars themed dance, complete with light saber. Cool. Of course, the "star" in question was Joey Fatone of 'N-Sync fame, but I didn't say it completely redeemed itself, did I?
Oh, and while we're on the topic of season finales, I have not yet seen the end of 24, but I do plan to watch it this weekend. I'm actually still catching up, so I'm only at the end of hour 19, but I figure that gives me something substantial to look forward to. I might have some reflections on it next week, but then again, it'll be old news by then, so we'll see.
With that, I must be going. See you tomorrow.
Anyway. It's 20 minutes until a new champion is crowned, so I have to finish this posting in that amount of time. No problem.
We had a very exciting day today--the boy went to his first hockey game. What a lot of fun. At first, he was a little bit hesitant about the whole process--lots of people, a strange atmosphere--but he warmed up to it really well by the second period. He made friends with Tony the Tiger, or at least a guy in a Tony the Tiger suit, which was a whole lot of fun, too. Biggest cat he's ever seen. He even made the cheerleaders ooh and aah (yes, there are cheerleaders. No, you don't want to get me started on that topic). Great times were had by everyone.
Man, I'm really pumped about the whole thing. Even sitting here recalling it makes me proud to be the father of the best kid on the planet (and the cutest, too). This stretch is making all the adversity worthwhile, and then some. Although there were times during the colicky phase where I literally wanted to throw him out the window, the payoff for getting through that is so enormous that it's hard to put into words. There's just something so special about the relationship you have with your kid. Amazing.
Here I go, gushing on again. Gosh. What else of note happened today? Well, it's day 24 after graduating, and still no word on a job. I'm really trying to stay calm and relaxed, but it's hard. I need something to occupy some time and at least make a little bit of money so that I don't feel like the most useless husband on the face of the planet. The last day I worked was August 31, 2005, and it's starting to get to me in a very deep way. But it'll all work out, I know it. And one day, I'll look back on this time and reflect on the many lessons I learned about character from it. But those lessons are hard to see in the haze of the moment. I hope that I can learn something going through the process, but it's usually the reflection afterward that teaches the most. I will eventually get a job. Stay positive.
All that to say that today was like every other unemployed day--I felt useless. I did manage to tend my garden a bit, which made me feel good. Also went to the park with the wife and the boy, and played and read books as usual. It's funny, because he has no idea what's going on in our lives--he's happy-go-lucky and everything's right in his world. Must be a nice place to be.
Okay, stop with the self-flagellation. Sorry. I will eventually find a more positive tone in this blog, I really will. It's just going to take some time is all. I'm leading worship again this Sunday at our home church, so that should get me feeling at least a little bit useful again. Oh, and we're going to go see Spiderman 3 tomorrow, so fun times will be had there.
I've tried so hard to stretch this posting about nothing into something, and I think I've done well, but I also think I need to stop. Oh, and for the record, Dancing with the Stars just redeemed itself a little--two of the contestants just did a Star Wars themed dance, complete with light saber. Cool. Of course, the "star" in question was Joey Fatone of 'N-Sync fame, but I didn't say it completely redeemed itself, did I?
Oh, and while we're on the topic of season finales, I have not yet seen the end of 24, but I do plan to watch it this weekend. I'm actually still catching up, so I'm only at the end of hour 19, but I figure that gives me something substantial to look forward to. I might have some reflections on it next week, but then again, it'll be old news by then, so we'll see.
With that, I must be going. See you tomorrow.
5.22.2007
Tuesday, May 22
You'll be happy to know that I've taken some time this weekend to better understand the Blogger interface, and I've been able to make some changes to the blog (for example: the background is darker--ooh, aah). After my bellyaching last time, I figured I'd do some spadework. It's still not perfect, but it's good.
So, how was your long weekend? Ours was fine. Camping lasted all of 22 hours, what with the weather and all. I think it was about 4:00 on Saturday morning, when the rain was pelting down and we were all huddled into the sleeping bags, freezing our unmentionables off, that we decided enough was enough. There's something to be said for "toughing it out," but I'm okay with being known as a big camping wimp.
It's too bad, too, because the trip was good, and the campsite was amazing. We were up at Hicks Lake, just outside of Harrison Hot Springs. Beautiful site. The boy, as was expected, loved every minute of it. He was so excited, in fact, that we couldn't get him to go to sleep that evening, and then he was awake for two hours in the middle of the night because he was cold and kept kicking off his blankets. After a bad sleep like that, you can imagine what the next day was like.
Yet through it all, he was a little angel, as he always is. We're so lucky to have a kid like him.
Other than that, the usual not-too-much-to-report. I took some time this weekend to make a massive update to the boy's blog, linked off on the right side for those who haven't seen it. It's extensive and amazing, but it's also the last I'll be making, for reasons explained therein. Since I spent so much time on that one, though, I'm out of steam for this one.
What about the interview? Good question. Yes, I went last night, and it went well. At least, I think it went well. It's a singularly unique situation, being thrust into the midst of a group of people you've never met who pepper you with questions, and then leaving. Afterwards, you hope that you represented yourself well, and oftentimes you second-guess some of your answers, but what's done is done, right? Now it's up to them. I hope to have something more to report by the end of the week.
Also coming up this week: the boy and I go to a hockey game. The Memorial Cup tournament is being held in Vancouver this year, and my parents, as season ticket holders for the Giants, were able to get their seats for all the games. This afternoon, it's boys time--three generations of Carroll men, watching hockey. Does it get any better? Not really.
And that will be it for today. I'll be back tomorrow with more, and don't forget to check out the amazing update to my other blog sometime today. See you tomorrow.
So, how was your long weekend? Ours was fine. Camping lasted all of 22 hours, what with the weather and all. I think it was about 4:00 on Saturday morning, when the rain was pelting down and we were all huddled into the sleeping bags, freezing our unmentionables off, that we decided enough was enough. There's something to be said for "toughing it out," but I'm okay with being known as a big camping wimp.
It's too bad, too, because the trip was good, and the campsite was amazing. We were up at Hicks Lake, just outside of Harrison Hot Springs. Beautiful site. The boy, as was expected, loved every minute of it. He was so excited, in fact, that we couldn't get him to go to sleep that evening, and then he was awake for two hours in the middle of the night because he was cold and kept kicking off his blankets. After a bad sleep like that, you can imagine what the next day was like.
Yet through it all, he was a little angel, as he always is. We're so lucky to have a kid like him.
Other than that, the usual not-too-much-to-report. I took some time this weekend to make a massive update to the boy's blog, linked off on the right side for those who haven't seen it. It's extensive and amazing, but it's also the last I'll be making, for reasons explained therein. Since I spent so much time on that one, though, I'm out of steam for this one.
What about the interview? Good question. Yes, I went last night, and it went well. At least, I think it went well. It's a singularly unique situation, being thrust into the midst of a group of people you've never met who pepper you with questions, and then leaving. Afterwards, you hope that you represented yourself well, and oftentimes you second-guess some of your answers, but what's done is done, right? Now it's up to them. I hope to have something more to report by the end of the week.
Also coming up this week: the boy and I go to a hockey game. The Memorial Cup tournament is being held in Vancouver this year, and my parents, as season ticket holders for the Giants, were able to get their seats for all the games. This afternoon, it's boys time--three generations of Carroll men, watching hockey. Does it get any better? Not really.
And that will be it for today. I'll be back tomorrow with more, and don't forget to check out the amazing update to my other blog sometime today. See you tomorrow.
5.18.2007
Friday, May 18
There's a nifty little pop-up bubble at the bottom of my screen telling me that thanks to new advances in technology, Blogger now saves my drafts automatically. Oh, what delight! Ooh, it even tells me when it auto-saves, and leaves a little note reminding me when the last one was. 10:06, in case you're keeping track.
Well, I'm suitably impressed. Now if they'd only stop using the first fifteen words of my postings as the titles for untitled posts, life would be good. I'm sure I can do something about it, but I'm sure I don't have the energy to look around aimlessly, overturning rock after rock, looking for that one little check box that allows me to do what I want to do. Oh Blogger, you may auto-save my postings, but you are far from perfect.
Now watch my computer freeze up, sensing the dastardly act of having insulted the mighty Blogger. Oh well, at least it auto-saves.
Tomorrow marks the beginning of the May long weekend, for those of you who maybe live in a cave or have jobs in the service industry, where statutory holidays simply mean having to work harder. I hated stats when I worked in food service. Especially the summer ones. I worked at the airport, and everyone travels on the long weekends. Everyone. Plus, on the sunny long weekends, we always had some minimum-wage slacker call in "sick"--usually a case of the 24-hour summer flu that can only be cured by exposure to full sunlight for a day.
Anyway, I mention this because we're going camping this weekend, which should be fun and very crowded. As one who never grew up camping, I've taken to it quite well throughout my adolescence and early adulthood. My wife is an avid camper, so she was able to show me the ropes a bit. Still, there was a learning curve (I'm not much for being away from the comforts of home, by which I mean running water), but I've gotten better.
This weekend will be all the more fun because it's my father-in-law's 60th birthday, and the whole stinkin' family is going to be there (consisting of two step-sisters and their husbands, two nieces and a nephew, and two dogs, along with my wife's dad and step-mom). We're likely going to be the only ones stupid enough to sleep in a tent--the rest have campers--but it'll be fun. I hope.
Two concerns about the weekend: rain, and toddler-related issues, neither of which I am able to do much about. It'll rain or it won't. Although I've taken to camping well, the one thing I still can't handle is camping in the rain. Normally, I find camping relaxing; in the rain, it just sucks.
As for the boy, well, either he'll take to camping, or he won't. He loves the outdoors, which is a real plus, but he also likes to have a vast array of toys at his disposal, which he won't have there. Additionally, I'm not sure if being outside for 24 hours a day will lose its sheen after a while, but I hope not.
We're planning on staying up Friday night and at least until dinner on Saturday (it's the big birthday dinner that night, which is going to be followed up by an even larger birthday celebration the next week. I love other people's birthdays--my output is minimal, and I get a great meal). After that, it's all about the weather. We'd love to stay until Sunday night, but if it's raining, I have a feeling I'm going to be cutting the weekend short. We'll see.
I mentioned yesterday that I might have some news on the employment front today, and it turns out that I do. Sort of. It turns out that I'm still battling for the position that I'm battling for with one other candidate. We've both gone through the first steps of the interview process, and now it's at the point where the leaders want us to meet some people in a lay leadership team, who want to interview us themselves, given the nature of the relationship they'll have with the successful person. Sorry for the sketchy detail--I will eventually make all things clear, but not now. I'm going in on Monday evening at 6:00; the other candidate is following me at 8:00.
I'm nervous. Sort of. I don't really get nervous per se, but I'm anxious, I suppose. Meeting this group seems like an audition at Canadian Idol; you only have one chance to impress, and, although you may be the stronger candidate, if you don't show it then, you're out. My mind is racing through scenarios and possible questions and answers--I'm even rehearsing how I'm going to greet them. Gosh, am I over-thinking this? Yup. But can you blame me? I hope not. And now I have all weekend to think more about it. Great.
At least things are moving forward. I have to say, I'm getting antsy sitting here enduring the monotony of jobless existence. Every day seems so much the same, and the wheels feel like they're slowly grinding to a halt again. They're not--things are happening--it's just that they're moving very slowly. As much as I want to use this time to pursue things I haven't been able to pursue for a while (music, gardening, video games, reading for pleasure, etc), I always have the spectre of no employment hanging over me. I feel like I should be doing more, but there's not really much more to do. The waiting game is getting old, for me and my wife, which is yet another pressure.
Oh well. At least I have my degree, and I've got a good prospect for employment, even if it's not a solid offer right now. Even if I don't get this job, there are others, and there's always the option to re-join the secular world and do ministry as a volunteer because I love doing it. There's a novel thought. We'll see what happens, and of course, I'll keep you posted.
So, how am I coping with boredom? By annoying my wife. I'm pretty sure she's getting tired of asking my why I'm so fidgety, and I have this feeling that we're just getting into each other's hair (as is wont to happen). We haven't snapped at each other yet, probably because we've got the boy as our buffer, but there's definitely some tension. Not much, mind you, but it's there. My anxiety over the general state of things meets her anxiety about the general state of things, and it's a potent and deadly combination.
So I go out into the garden and play with my plants. Seriously, I love not having a job because it means I can get so much done around the house (which, coincidentally, is why I hate not having a job, but whatever). Today I did some more work in the garden--I took out a rhododendron that wasn't doing so well and planted it in a rehabilitation facility (a container), and re-planted a couple other things to make them more tidy. I could probably spend time in there daily, but I don't think that's very normal.
In addition to gardening, I also installed some child locks on our bathroom cupboards. The boy has taken to opening them up and dumping things out, and it was right when he grabbed the Buckley's mixture that we both decided enough was enough. Of course, I grabbed my tools right away and went to work, which alleviated some of my pent-up anxiety for about 15 minutes. Those blinkin' child locks are more trouble than they're worth, and stupidly difficult to put in (especially lying on the floor as one has to do when one is installing them, and putting a screw into wood above), but they work really well. And now the Buckley's is safe, as are the rest of the drugs, along with my aftershaves and deodorant, which the boy had taken to un-capping and licking. Mm, arctic breeze.
So all in all, a productive day, and I can leave tomorrow knowing that I accomplished quite a bit this week. Now, if only my back would stop spasming, we'd be in good shape.
One final note: come on, no comments on the new addition to the family?! I thought that would be good for at least one, but nothing? Ouch. I was just going to check the traffic to see if anyone actually visited and saw the picture, but I realized that in the transition in designs, I forgot to migrate my site meter. Silly me. I'll take care of that, then.
With that, it's goodnight. Hope you all have a stellar long weekend. I'll be back on Tuesday with another installment, wherein I will tell you all about my meeting on Monday and, of course, how camping went. It'll be fun! See you then.
Well, I'm suitably impressed. Now if they'd only stop using the first fifteen words of my postings as the titles for untitled posts, life would be good. I'm sure I can do something about it, but I'm sure I don't have the energy to look around aimlessly, overturning rock after rock, looking for that one little check box that allows me to do what I want to do. Oh Blogger, you may auto-save my postings, but you are far from perfect.
Now watch my computer freeze up, sensing the dastardly act of having insulted the mighty Blogger. Oh well, at least it auto-saves.
Tomorrow marks the beginning of the May long weekend, for those of you who maybe live in a cave or have jobs in the service industry, where statutory holidays simply mean having to work harder. I hated stats when I worked in food service. Especially the summer ones. I worked at the airport, and everyone travels on the long weekends. Everyone. Plus, on the sunny long weekends, we always had some minimum-wage slacker call in "sick"--usually a case of the 24-hour summer flu that can only be cured by exposure to full sunlight for a day.
Anyway, I mention this because we're going camping this weekend, which should be fun and very crowded. As one who never grew up camping, I've taken to it quite well throughout my adolescence and early adulthood. My wife is an avid camper, so she was able to show me the ropes a bit. Still, there was a learning curve (I'm not much for being away from the comforts of home, by which I mean running water), but I've gotten better.
This weekend will be all the more fun because it's my father-in-law's 60th birthday, and the whole stinkin' family is going to be there (consisting of two step-sisters and their husbands, two nieces and a nephew, and two dogs, along with my wife's dad and step-mom). We're likely going to be the only ones stupid enough to sleep in a tent--the rest have campers--but it'll be fun. I hope.
Two concerns about the weekend: rain, and toddler-related issues, neither of which I am able to do much about. It'll rain or it won't. Although I've taken to camping well, the one thing I still can't handle is camping in the rain. Normally, I find camping relaxing; in the rain, it just sucks.
As for the boy, well, either he'll take to camping, or he won't. He loves the outdoors, which is a real plus, but he also likes to have a vast array of toys at his disposal, which he won't have there. Additionally, I'm not sure if being outside for 24 hours a day will lose its sheen after a while, but I hope not.
We're planning on staying up Friday night and at least until dinner on Saturday (it's the big birthday dinner that night, which is going to be followed up by an even larger birthday celebration the next week. I love other people's birthdays--my output is minimal, and I get a great meal). After that, it's all about the weather. We'd love to stay until Sunday night, but if it's raining, I have a feeling I'm going to be cutting the weekend short. We'll see.
I mentioned yesterday that I might have some news on the employment front today, and it turns out that I do. Sort of. It turns out that I'm still battling for the position that I'm battling for with one other candidate. We've both gone through the first steps of the interview process, and now it's at the point where the leaders want us to meet some people in a lay leadership team, who want to interview us themselves, given the nature of the relationship they'll have with the successful person. Sorry for the sketchy detail--I will eventually make all things clear, but not now. I'm going in on Monday evening at 6:00; the other candidate is following me at 8:00.
I'm nervous. Sort of. I don't really get nervous per se, but I'm anxious, I suppose. Meeting this group seems like an audition at Canadian Idol; you only have one chance to impress, and, although you may be the stronger candidate, if you don't show it then, you're out. My mind is racing through scenarios and possible questions and answers--I'm even rehearsing how I'm going to greet them. Gosh, am I over-thinking this? Yup. But can you blame me? I hope not. And now I have all weekend to think more about it. Great.
At least things are moving forward. I have to say, I'm getting antsy sitting here enduring the monotony of jobless existence. Every day seems so much the same, and the wheels feel like they're slowly grinding to a halt again. They're not--things are happening--it's just that they're moving very slowly. As much as I want to use this time to pursue things I haven't been able to pursue for a while (music, gardening, video games, reading for pleasure, etc), I always have the spectre of no employment hanging over me. I feel like I should be doing more, but there's not really much more to do. The waiting game is getting old, for me and my wife, which is yet another pressure.
Oh well. At least I have my degree, and I've got a good prospect for employment, even if it's not a solid offer right now. Even if I don't get this job, there are others, and there's always the option to re-join the secular world and do ministry as a volunteer because I love doing it. There's a novel thought. We'll see what happens, and of course, I'll keep you posted.
So, how am I coping with boredom? By annoying my wife. I'm pretty sure she's getting tired of asking my why I'm so fidgety, and I have this feeling that we're just getting into each other's hair (as is wont to happen). We haven't snapped at each other yet, probably because we've got the boy as our buffer, but there's definitely some tension. Not much, mind you, but it's there. My anxiety over the general state of things meets her anxiety about the general state of things, and it's a potent and deadly combination.
So I go out into the garden and play with my plants. Seriously, I love not having a job because it means I can get so much done around the house (which, coincidentally, is why I hate not having a job, but whatever). Today I did some more work in the garden--I took out a rhododendron that wasn't doing so well and planted it in a rehabilitation facility (a container), and re-planted a couple other things to make them more tidy. I could probably spend time in there daily, but I don't think that's very normal.
In addition to gardening, I also installed some child locks on our bathroom cupboards. The boy has taken to opening them up and dumping things out, and it was right when he grabbed the Buckley's mixture that we both decided enough was enough. Of course, I grabbed my tools right away and went to work, which alleviated some of my pent-up anxiety for about 15 minutes. Those blinkin' child locks are more trouble than they're worth, and stupidly difficult to put in (especially lying on the floor as one has to do when one is installing them, and putting a screw into wood above), but they work really well. And now the Buckley's is safe, as are the rest of the drugs, along with my aftershaves and deodorant, which the boy had taken to un-capping and licking. Mm, arctic breeze.
So all in all, a productive day, and I can leave tomorrow knowing that I accomplished quite a bit this week. Now, if only my back would stop spasming, we'd be in good shape.
One final note: come on, no comments on the new addition to the family?! I thought that would be good for at least one, but nothing? Ouch. I was just going to check the traffic to see if anyone actually visited and saw the picture, but I realized that in the transition in designs, I forgot to migrate my site meter. Silly me. I'll take care of that, then.
With that, it's goodnight. Hope you all have a stellar long weekend. I'll be back on Tuesday with another installment, wherein I will tell you all about my meeting on Monday and, of course, how camping went. It'll be fun! See you then.
5.17.2007
Thursday, May 17
I have an exciting announcement to make: on June 1, we will be welcoming a new family member into our home. No, silly, we're not having a baby (if we were, and it was due June 1, we've been doing a great job of hiding it). Here's what I'm talking about...
Meet Stanley, the Shih Tzu/chihuahua cross. He's six weeks old (he'll be eight when we get him), and he's being housebroken and trained even as we speak at a kennel in Aldergrove where he was born and hand-raised by the owners.
We found him totally by fluke. Some of you might know that we've been casually looking for a dog since we returned, but haven't had much luck with it. We were going back and forth on the pros and cons of going to a breeder, but we figured that in the end, there was no point in paying extra for accreditation when we have no interest in showing or breeding the dog--we just want a family pet. The benefit of a breeder, of course, is that you know exactly what you're going to get (with a reputable breeder, at least). With adoptions, especially of strays, you never know quite what the temperament is going to be like, and with a young child, it's a little scary.
The other problem with the shelter is that the majority of the dogs in the shelters are large. This is evidently because some people get a large dog as a puppy and don't quite realize how big it's going to get. Once it gets too big, it's off to the shelter. You know, it just seems to me that common sense would dictate that you check on how big the dog is going to be as an adult before you get him, but that falls into the never-give-out-sensitive-personal-information-on-the-internet category--you'd think that nobody would actually do it, but you're surprised at how many people do.
Back to the overarching narrative. As we were driving to another shelter here in town, we drove past this particular kennel. Over their main sign out front hung a banner that said, "ADOPTION." I wasn't sure if that meant they had dogs for adoption, or if perhaps they were advocating adoption as a method of dog ownership, so we stopped in. Sure enough, the owner was just coming downstairs with the litter (six puppies in all), and we just loved them. Although my wife wanted to make a decision on the spot, we thought it best to go home and talk it over. We did a bit of supplementary research on the breed (we had already considered them before, given that Shih Tzu's are hypoallergenic), and decided we'd go for it. So we went back and put in a deposit, and he's ours on the 1st.
I think that we don't really know what we're getting into, but like having a baby, it's exciting. I'm pumped about it, and so is the wife. I'm sure the boy is, too, but he's a little too young to fully understand what's going on.
Well, now that I've already posted one picture, how about some more? I realized that I've never given you all confirmation that I graduated, so here you go...
Speaking of that, I just got my grade card back: four classes, three A's and an A-plus. Over the year, my GPA is 4.0. Not that I'm bragging (okay, I am a little bit), but hey, it's pretty good.
Since I haven't published a posting to the boy's blog in recent memory, here are a couple of photos to keep you up to speed, the second of which is from those days not-so-long-ago when we were plowing through two feet of snow...
I heard a stat a little while back that the average father spends about 11 minutes a day of quality time with his kid. I didn't really believe it, until now. Right across the driveway from our townhouse is the playground in our complex. Handy and accessible for us, it's true. As I'm typing (I'm getting the bulk of this done early today because I've got time now and I won't necessarily have it later), there's a guy there with his son, who can't be older than two. Cute little guy; looks and acts a lot like our boy, which is why I kept looking. At first, the kid was playing on his own while the dad sat on the nearby bench, not looking at his kid at all. The kid was obviously trying to get the dad's attention, but the guy wouldn't even look up. Later, when I looked out again, the dad had ventured near the kid, who was now playing some sort of imaginative game and hoping the dad would play along. But then I noticed what the dad was doing--playing with his iPod. So here he is with earphones in both ears, paying more attention to the gadget than the kid. So sad.
Just now, they walked away, with the dad still looking at his infernal iPod, and the kid still talking away. Just before they passed from sight, the kid held out his hand for the dad to grab, and the dad didn't even see it. Just kept on walking.
Why do I even mention this here? Because it makes me sad. I wish that, as a gender, we men would do more for our kids. I wish that we'd invest more time in them, that we'd stop the cycle of poor fathering and be brave enough to be men. My dad was brave enough to take that step with me, and look how it turned out. I hope that I can be brave too, even though I have a great example to follow.
I'm not a child psychologist, but I have a son, and I know that I am one of the most important people in his life. My reactions, my tone of voice, my interest level, all play a huge part in his development. I can see it in his eyes when he's looking for my approval, and I can feel his disappointment when he doesn't get it. Fathering is an awesome responsibility, and maybe if more of us men took it seriously, there would be less problems in the world.
Yes, I'm being utopian again. But would it really kill us as men to step up to the plate and be men, especially in our homes?
That's a bit of a tough note to end on, but I am nonetheless going to end on it. More tomorrow, including a possible update on the employment situation (I hope to hear from my prospective employer tomorrow, which would probably alleviate the sense of anxiety that I'm feeling right now, and that is manifesting itself in purchasing dogs. At this rate, we'll have a whole kennel by next week, so they'd better call fast). See you then.
Meet Stanley, the Shih Tzu/chihuahua cross. He's six weeks old (he'll be eight when we get him), and he's being housebroken and trained even as we speak at a kennel in Aldergrove where he was born and hand-raised by the owners.We found him totally by fluke. Some of you might know that we've been casually looking for a dog since we returned, but haven't had much luck with it. We were going back and forth on the pros and cons of going to a breeder, but we figured that in the end, there was no point in paying extra for accreditation when we have no interest in showing or breeding the dog--we just want a family pet. The benefit of a breeder, of course, is that you know exactly what you're going to get (with a reputable breeder, at least). With adoptions, especially of strays, you never know quite what the temperament is going to be like, and with a young child, it's a little scary.
The other problem with the shelter is that the majority of the dogs in the shelters are large. This is evidently because some people get a large dog as a puppy and don't quite realize how big it's going to get. Once it gets too big, it's off to the shelter. You know, it just seems to me that common sense would dictate that you check on how big the dog is going to be as an adult before you get him, but that falls into the never-give-out-sensitive-personal-information-on-the-internet category--you'd think that nobody would actually do it, but you're surprised at how many people do.
Back to the overarching narrative. As we were driving to another shelter here in town, we drove past this particular kennel. Over their main sign out front hung a banner that said, "ADOPTION." I wasn't sure if that meant they had dogs for adoption, or if perhaps they were advocating adoption as a method of dog ownership, so we stopped in. Sure enough, the owner was just coming downstairs with the litter (six puppies in all), and we just loved them. Although my wife wanted to make a decision on the spot, we thought it best to go home and talk it over. We did a bit of supplementary research on the breed (we had already considered them before, given that Shih Tzu's are hypoallergenic), and decided we'd go for it. So we went back and put in a deposit, and he's ours on the 1st.
I think that we don't really know what we're getting into, but like having a baby, it's exciting. I'm pumped about it, and so is the wife. I'm sure the boy is, too, but he's a little too young to fully understand what's going on.
Well, now that I've already posted one picture, how about some more? I realized that I've never given you all confirmation that I graduated, so here you go...
Speaking of that, I just got my grade card back: four classes, three A's and an A-plus. Over the year, my GPA is 4.0. Not that I'm bragging (okay, I am a little bit), but hey, it's pretty good.Since I haven't published a posting to the boy's blog in recent memory, here are a couple of photos to keep you up to speed, the second of which is from those days not-so-long-ago when we were plowing through two feet of snow...
I heard a stat a little while back that the average father spends about 11 minutes a day of quality time with his kid. I didn't really believe it, until now. Right across the driveway from our townhouse is the playground in our complex. Handy and accessible for us, it's true. As I'm typing (I'm getting the bulk of this done early today because I've got time now and I won't necessarily have it later), there's a guy there with his son, who can't be older than two. Cute little guy; looks and acts a lot like our boy, which is why I kept looking. At first, the kid was playing on his own while the dad sat on the nearby bench, not looking at his kid at all. The kid was obviously trying to get the dad's attention, but the guy wouldn't even look up. Later, when I looked out again, the dad had ventured near the kid, who was now playing some sort of imaginative game and hoping the dad would play along. But then I noticed what the dad was doing--playing with his iPod. So here he is with earphones in both ears, paying more attention to the gadget than the kid. So sad.Just now, they walked away, with the dad still looking at his infernal iPod, and the kid still talking away. Just before they passed from sight, the kid held out his hand for the dad to grab, and the dad didn't even see it. Just kept on walking.
Why do I even mention this here? Because it makes me sad. I wish that, as a gender, we men would do more for our kids. I wish that we'd invest more time in them, that we'd stop the cycle of poor fathering and be brave enough to be men. My dad was brave enough to take that step with me, and look how it turned out. I hope that I can be brave too, even though I have a great example to follow.
I'm not a child psychologist, but I have a son, and I know that I am one of the most important people in his life. My reactions, my tone of voice, my interest level, all play a huge part in his development. I can see it in his eyes when he's looking for my approval, and I can feel his disappointment when he doesn't get it. Fathering is an awesome responsibility, and maybe if more of us men took it seriously, there would be less problems in the world.
Yes, I'm being utopian again. But would it really kill us as men to step up to the plate and be men, especially in our homes?
That's a bit of a tough note to end on, but I am nonetheless going to end on it. More tomorrow, including a possible update on the employment situation (I hope to hear from my prospective employer tomorrow, which would probably alleviate the sense of anxiety that I'm feeling right now, and that is manifesting itself in purchasing dogs. At this rate, we'll have a whole kennel by next week, so they'd better call fast). See you then.
5.16.2007
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
Well, well. I seem to have missed a day completely; sorry for those of you whose days were inexorably destroyed by my lack of blogging. I understand how one misstep in the routine causes chaos, but I hope you were able to move along.
I have an excuse, though. Since the computer is in my mom-in-law's room, sometimes time lines don't quite turn out the way I want them to. Sometimes I don't want to blog at a reasonable hour, and that's all there is to it. Tonight the timing works. Tomorrow? No guarantees.
Quite a day today, no? We walked out the door at about 10:00 this morning and thought we had been transported to Hawaii. We are so lucky to live in a place where it doesn't randomly dump two feet of snow, just because it feels like being spiteful. And cruel.
I'm definitely not used to the heat, though. I'm happy to report that after much time out of doors in the last few days, my usual farmer's tan is back, and with a vengeance, I might add. I've likely been outside more than inside over the past few days. Let me tell you more....
Our complex is quite an uppity place sometimes, as you might expect living in the heart of WASP country as I do. The council keeps a tight leash on the goings-on (I won't get into it, but let's just say that my neighbour got a warning from the council because her back tires were two inches off her driveway pad), and one of the scourges of the neighbourhood they're trying to eliminate is the garage sale. The rules of the complex state that thou shalt not have any garage sales, save for once a year when the entire complex has a sale. Then it's like a tailgate party at the Daytona 500.
As you might guess from that intro, the sale was this past weekend. Having just moved back (and having just replaced the light fixture in my kitchen), we had several things to sell. Funny how things seem to collect; junk begets junk, which leads to yet more junk. But the great thing about garage sales is that someone somewhere wants your junk. You just have to find that someone.
Evidently our sale is a big deal around here, because man, it was busy. The rule is that everyone runs their own sale from their own garage; I didn't have much to sell--just a few items--and it was made all the more difficult to do by the fact that there were only two of us on this whole side of the complex who were selling anything. What a bunch of losers. Nice people, but come on, let's get into the spirit. Down on the other side of the complex (the east side, for future reference), it was a party; balloons, donuts, all the hoopla you could ask for and then some. Over here, it was pretty scarce. The good thing was that it was so busy down there that most had to park over near me, and so they saw me first.
I did pretty well; managed to sell the big items that I wanted to get rid of, which was nice. I even sold the old sunshine ceiling, which went to a guy I saw the next day at church. I hope it works okay, but it only cost him $15, so I'm not too sad if it doesn't. Also sold an old computer desk that I'd had since I lived with my parents and had made all the moves with us until now. End of the line, friend. I'm not exactly sure why we even had it still, except that perhaps we didn't know what else to do with it, and it seems a shame to throw away a perfectly functional piece of Swedish furniture (which, of course, is made in Burma or some such place; not many Swedes down there). Anyway, it's gone, so I'm happy.
One thing that didn't sell: my old bubble-jet printer. Too bad. It works perfectly well (provided you download the Windows XP compatibility driver--yes, it's an old printer. It probably doesn't work on Vista, but then, not much really seems to in the first place, so it's in the majority there), and I even recently bought a new ink cartridge for it because it accompanied us to Three Hills. But alas, evidently many other people have old bubble-jets they're also trying to rid themselves of. Perhaps I can bundle it with a dot matrix printer and really blow away some seniors home somewhere.
Along with all the selling and buying at garage sales, the one thing that I find a source of constant amusement is the professional garage saler, the one who is willing to pull out all the stops with some hardcore negotiation, simply to save, in one case from this past weekend, five cents. Yes, someone bargained me down on a ten cent hair clip. Seriously, there's a line somewhere, and I'm pretty sure he crossed it, but whatever. I'll always have the last laugh because really and truly, I was only going to take that stuff to the Salvation Army anyway, so even if you don't pay me full asking price, I'm still getting more than I would have if you hadn't bought it. So there.
Anyway. The rest of the weekend was fine. Sunday was Mother's Day, which I've already regaled with stories of. Monday was another day to be outside. On Sunday, the boy and I went to the local Wal-Mart (a reasonable 10 minute drive, as opposed to the hour drive it took us back in Three Hills) to buy some plants and get the hanging baskets and containers in order; Monday was planting day. Now that I have some time to enjoy it, I find I'm quite enjoying gardening. My baskets look quite lovely now, thank you, as do my containers. Had a couple of other garden chores as well--moved a hosta, relocated a mint plant that was slowly launching a military-style coup to take over the rest of the garden, cut down some dead tulips, etcetera. Three-and-a-half hours outside meant that my farmer's tan was near perfect when I came back in.
After all that gardening, we went over to my parents' place for a Mother's Day extravaganza. Good food, lots of laughs, and some classic moments from the boy. Fun times were had by all.
That takes us to today, which was one of those recuperate from the weekend days. The wife was busy on Monday tackling all the inside chores that needed to be accomplished after the move back, so we're both pretty beat. The upside is that the house and garden both look lovely. The downside is that we're both completely wasted. But it's a good kind of exhaustion that comes from a job well done. That's what I tell myself, at least.
And because I'm so wiped, it's time to hit the sack. Thanks for the one-day reprieve on blogging, and I'll see you when I'm back tomorrow. Hopefully. See you then.
I have an excuse, though. Since the computer is in my mom-in-law's room, sometimes time lines don't quite turn out the way I want them to. Sometimes I don't want to blog at a reasonable hour, and that's all there is to it. Tonight the timing works. Tomorrow? No guarantees.
Quite a day today, no? We walked out the door at about 10:00 this morning and thought we had been transported to Hawaii. We are so lucky to live in a place where it doesn't randomly dump two feet of snow, just because it feels like being spiteful. And cruel.
I'm definitely not used to the heat, though. I'm happy to report that after much time out of doors in the last few days, my usual farmer's tan is back, and with a vengeance, I might add. I've likely been outside more than inside over the past few days. Let me tell you more....
Our complex is quite an uppity place sometimes, as you might expect living in the heart of WASP country as I do. The council keeps a tight leash on the goings-on (I won't get into it, but let's just say that my neighbour got a warning from the council because her back tires were two inches off her driveway pad), and one of the scourges of the neighbourhood they're trying to eliminate is the garage sale. The rules of the complex state that thou shalt not have any garage sales, save for once a year when the entire complex has a sale. Then it's like a tailgate party at the Daytona 500.
As you might guess from that intro, the sale was this past weekend. Having just moved back (and having just replaced the light fixture in my kitchen), we had several things to sell. Funny how things seem to collect; junk begets junk, which leads to yet more junk. But the great thing about garage sales is that someone somewhere wants your junk. You just have to find that someone.
Evidently our sale is a big deal around here, because man, it was busy. The rule is that everyone runs their own sale from their own garage; I didn't have much to sell--just a few items--and it was made all the more difficult to do by the fact that there were only two of us on this whole side of the complex who were selling anything. What a bunch of losers. Nice people, but come on, let's get into the spirit. Down on the other side of the complex (the east side, for future reference), it was a party; balloons, donuts, all the hoopla you could ask for and then some. Over here, it was pretty scarce. The good thing was that it was so busy down there that most had to park over near me, and so they saw me first.
I did pretty well; managed to sell the big items that I wanted to get rid of, which was nice. I even sold the old sunshine ceiling, which went to a guy I saw the next day at church. I hope it works okay, but it only cost him $15, so I'm not too sad if it doesn't. Also sold an old computer desk that I'd had since I lived with my parents and had made all the moves with us until now. End of the line, friend. I'm not exactly sure why we even had it still, except that perhaps we didn't know what else to do with it, and it seems a shame to throw away a perfectly functional piece of Swedish furniture (which, of course, is made in Burma or some such place; not many Swedes down there). Anyway, it's gone, so I'm happy.
One thing that didn't sell: my old bubble-jet printer. Too bad. It works perfectly well (provided you download the Windows XP compatibility driver--yes, it's an old printer. It probably doesn't work on Vista, but then, not much really seems to in the first place, so it's in the majority there), and I even recently bought a new ink cartridge for it because it accompanied us to Three Hills. But alas, evidently many other people have old bubble-jets they're also trying to rid themselves of. Perhaps I can bundle it with a dot matrix printer and really blow away some seniors home somewhere.
Along with all the selling and buying at garage sales, the one thing that I find a source of constant amusement is the professional garage saler, the one who is willing to pull out all the stops with some hardcore negotiation, simply to save, in one case from this past weekend, five cents. Yes, someone bargained me down on a ten cent hair clip. Seriously, there's a line somewhere, and I'm pretty sure he crossed it, but whatever. I'll always have the last laugh because really and truly, I was only going to take that stuff to the Salvation Army anyway, so even if you don't pay me full asking price, I'm still getting more than I would have if you hadn't bought it. So there.
Anyway. The rest of the weekend was fine. Sunday was Mother's Day, which I've already regaled with stories of. Monday was another day to be outside. On Sunday, the boy and I went to the local Wal-Mart (a reasonable 10 minute drive, as opposed to the hour drive it took us back in Three Hills) to buy some plants and get the hanging baskets and containers in order; Monday was planting day. Now that I have some time to enjoy it, I find I'm quite enjoying gardening. My baskets look quite lovely now, thank you, as do my containers. Had a couple of other garden chores as well--moved a hosta, relocated a mint plant that was slowly launching a military-style coup to take over the rest of the garden, cut down some dead tulips, etcetera. Three-and-a-half hours outside meant that my farmer's tan was near perfect when I came back in.
After all that gardening, we went over to my parents' place for a Mother's Day extravaganza. Good food, lots of laughs, and some classic moments from the boy. Fun times were had by all.
That takes us to today, which was one of those recuperate from the weekend days. The wife was busy on Monday tackling all the inside chores that needed to be accomplished after the move back, so we're both pretty beat. The upside is that the house and garden both look lovely. The downside is that we're both completely wasted. But it's a good kind of exhaustion that comes from a job well done. That's what I tell myself, at least.
And because I'm so wiped, it's time to hit the sack. Thanks for the one-day reprieve on blogging, and I'll see you when I'm back tomorrow. Hopefully. See you then.
5.14.2007
Monday, May 14, 2007
I had initially thought that I would have come up with a stunningly original name for this blog by the time this weekend rolled around, but alas, no such name has come to mind. I'm considering throwing a naming contest, but then I realized I don't have any fabulous prizes to give away, so that wouldn't really work. How about this--if you come up with something, leave it in a comment.
Happy Mother's Day to all of those mothers out there, including my own. Hope your Sunday was relaxing and restful, or at least, as restful as possible. Sometimes it's just not possible to have an objectively relaxing day. For example, our son will still be a 15-month-old and have all the needs of a 15-month-old, even on Mother's Day. Often, he just wants mommy, and nobody else will do. You just can't convince him that mommy needs to relax.
That said, we had a great time. Last year, which was the wife's first Mother's Day, I woke up sick, and had to stay in bed for the most part. This year, things went a little bit better. Woke up, did some presents, ate breakfast, then off to church. We attended yet another new church this weekend (we were visiting the church that I am hoping to work at very soon), which was interesting not simply for the church service, but also for the Mother's Day giveaway. Every church gives something out to moms (and dads, when their day comes) and it's interesting to see what it is.
When I was growing up, it was always flowers for the moms and chocolate bars for the dads. That is, until the moms started to realize they were getting the short end of the stick in all this, and dang it, they wanted chocolate, too. So they got it. Now both groups get chocolate on their respective days. Other churches stick with the more traditional flowers, but some are quite creative.
This particular church gave out candles with little inscriptions on the sides. The coolest part of that was when the ushers brought large candles around the pews and all the moms lit their candles off the larger ones. I'm sure something else was supposed to happen after that, but I think they forgot what they were going to do, so most of the moms were stuck with a lit candle in the pew, wondering if they should blow it out or not, and if they did, what that said about their mothering. It was neat, anyway. I just hope that on Father's Day they hand out blowtorches.
Other things happened this weekend as well, but I can't get into them now because it's actually Monday when I'm typing this, and I need to get back to things. The mom-in-law was sick all day yesterday (which was a real downer, I'm sure), and by the time we got back from our family dinner, she was ready to hit the sack. Normally, I would've squeezed something in, but we had some Battlestar Galactica to watch, so I didn't bother.
Tomorrow, I'll be back into the swing of things with a regular-length posting. Hope to see you then.
Happy Mother's Day to all of those mothers out there, including my own. Hope your Sunday was relaxing and restful, or at least, as restful as possible. Sometimes it's just not possible to have an objectively relaxing day. For example, our son will still be a 15-month-old and have all the needs of a 15-month-old, even on Mother's Day. Often, he just wants mommy, and nobody else will do. You just can't convince him that mommy needs to relax.
That said, we had a great time. Last year, which was the wife's first Mother's Day, I woke up sick, and had to stay in bed for the most part. This year, things went a little bit better. Woke up, did some presents, ate breakfast, then off to church. We attended yet another new church this weekend (we were visiting the church that I am hoping to work at very soon), which was interesting not simply for the church service, but also for the Mother's Day giveaway. Every church gives something out to moms (and dads, when their day comes) and it's interesting to see what it is.
When I was growing up, it was always flowers for the moms and chocolate bars for the dads. That is, until the moms started to realize they were getting the short end of the stick in all this, and dang it, they wanted chocolate, too. So they got it. Now both groups get chocolate on their respective days. Other churches stick with the more traditional flowers, but some are quite creative.
This particular church gave out candles with little inscriptions on the sides. The coolest part of that was when the ushers brought large candles around the pews and all the moms lit their candles off the larger ones. I'm sure something else was supposed to happen after that, but I think they forgot what they were going to do, so most of the moms were stuck with a lit candle in the pew, wondering if they should blow it out or not, and if they did, what that said about their mothering. It was neat, anyway. I just hope that on Father's Day they hand out blowtorches.
Other things happened this weekend as well, but I can't get into them now because it's actually Monday when I'm typing this, and I need to get back to things. The mom-in-law was sick all day yesterday (which was a real downer, I'm sure), and by the time we got back from our family dinner, she was ready to hit the sack. Normally, I would've squeezed something in, but we had some Battlestar Galactica to watch, so I didn't bother.
Tomorrow, I'll be back into the swing of things with a regular-length posting. Hope to see you then.
5.11.2007
Friday, May 11, 2007
Well then. A week gone by. Sorry to begin with banal statements, but I'm out of clever openings. Maybe next week the creative bug will strike me with vim and gusto. Perhaps not.
Hey, speaking of bugs (obviously I'm not out of clever segues), it's apparently wasp season again, and I'm not talking about white anglo-saxon protestants, either. Every spring, without fail, the little buggers congregate just outside our upstairs windows, and occasionally make the mistake of venturing in. Bugs are so stupid. You can fly in, but you can't fly out? Come on--navigation!
Anyway. I have a unique catch-and-release method for such pesky critters that I use when they come in. I'm not quite brave enough to attempt a killing--with my luck I'd miss and end up the victim of a wasp attack. I'm not allergic (as far as I know; don't really want to find out, either), but still, I'd rather not be stung multiple times. I don't think I'm out of line in that statement.
Gosh, today is the day of the tangent, apparently. Back to the topic at hand: I use a Tupperware container and a stiff piece of paper to trap them against the window and then throw them out. It works well, unless they're caught up in some craggy terrain, such as the windowsill. Then it's just the waiting game. Eventually, being the top-of-the-food-chain creature that I am, I outwit them. Ha! You may have a compound eye, but I've got a bigger brain, and opposable thumbs. Huzzah!
The upshot of this terribly long story is that I need to call someone about getting screens on my windows. I suppose I could have just typed that sentence much earlier and dispensed with the story, but hey, there's half my blog done already, so we're good.
Moving on. A couple weeks ago, I did some damage to my shoulder sleeping in that terrible bed we had in Three Hills (we moved off the floor and back onto the bed when everyone came over for grad weekend). It seems that I've somehow aggravated it in the moving process; my left shoulder was pretty much completely seized this morning when I woke up.
Actually, it had its genesis somewhere in the middle of the night. I remember having a dream in which I was shot in the back, and the pain I was feeling in real life entered my subconscious. Not that I'd know what it feels like to get a bullet in the back (knives, sure--it's part of the job in ministry--but not bullets), but I imagine it would be painful. And it was, even in dreamland.
I have a criteria for pain that is completely arbitrary and not based on any medical knowledge at all. I will bear it (with varying degrees of fortitude) as long as it doesn't hamper my abilities to get a good night's sleep. Last night, the criteria was defeated. I woke up this morning and could barely move. My first stop (at 6:30 when I woke up from my shooting dream) was the medicine cabinet for some ibuprofen; the next was my doctor's office. My doctor shares the office with two other doctors (used to be three, but this morning, the new guy's name wasn't on the door anymore. In situations like that, I really want to ask, but I probably need to go through back channels, just in case things ended badly or something. That's probably not necessary, but whatever), and they have drop-in hours every weekday before they open. The wait to get an appointment with my doctor is about two weeks. The wait in the morning is 30 seconds. I don't necessarily get to see my own doctor, but seriously, what do I care? As long as the person I see has gone to medical school and is reasonably competent (measured by whether or not they've shaved and showered that morning), I'm good.
The doctor I saw this morning told me that I have some damage to my rhomboid muscle, which sounds like a geometrical figure got into a horrible car wreck. He suggested a shot of long-lasting local anesthetic to dull the pain, and prescribed heavier-duty anti-inflammatory drugs that would guard my stash of ibuprofen (I was going through them at an alarming rate for the last few days). As much as I hate needles, I was willing to get this one; the pain was bad enough, and it was in my back, so I didn't feel it as much. Turns out that getting shot in the back isn't that bad at all.
Anyway. The drugs kicked in earlier today, providing sweet, if incomplete, relief. The pain is still there, it's just not kicking my pain receptors into overdrive every time I turn my neck. Which is really nice. The pharmacist said that the drugs will help the inflammation, which will help the body heal. I don't care as long as it works.
Other than that, nothing of great import. Took the boy (who is still teething like crazy) out for a bit of a walk this morning when he got overtired and mom was ready to throw him out the window. She had a bit of a tough morning--I went to the doctor's, the boy is teething and cranky, and mom-in-law's nerve pain was acting up again. She was the last bastion of health, and it wore her out. She slept while the boy and I went toodling around the neighbourhood.
He fell asleep just as I arrived back home, which meant a relatively painless transfer of sleeping child into his bed. And then he slept. And slept. And slept. His nap was a colossal three hours long, which is shocking and surprising. It got to the point where I had to open the door to make sure he was still breathing. I know he is, but I just need to feed that particular neurosis, I suppose. Ridiculous, but part of parenting.
He woke in a much better mood, I was happy to see. We ate a late lunch and then took another trundle around the neighbourhood. I'm working on losing some weight (all a part of my don't-just-talk-about-it-do-something-about-it philosophy), and walking is great for that, or so I hear. Plus, he just loves the outdoors so much that he'd be happy if we never went inside. We ended up at one of the local coffee shops that has a play area.
Where was mom? She was out getting her hair cut. Now, normally such insignificant news as this would not be reported in this space, but today was different. She cut it off. And it looks spectacular. For the last few years, she's been growing out her hair, more to just see what would happen than anything else. But it was time for a change, and being the adventurous risk-taker that she is, she decided a large change would be good. So now instead of "mom hair" (the kind that's always just tied up in a bun due to having a young kid around), she has a sexy, sophisticated do. Except only I'm allowed to think it's sexy. The rest of you, well, you can claim the "sophisticated" moniker. Deal?
Evening saw us scrounging for dinner ideas, as usual, and eventually settling on sushi. Oh gee, twist my arm some more. The sushi place in our neighbourhood is incredible, and we really missed it while we were gone. The boy is the star of the show there, too. The owner's wife dotes on him hand and foot, which is really funny. I think he'll probably grow up thinking that she's his Japanese god-mother or something. Maybe they'll pass the sushi knowledge on to him.
After that, we decided to rent a movie. We settled on "Night at the Museum," which we had heard was funny. Took a while to get going, but settled in nicely after about an hour or so. Ended well, if predictably, and generally made for a good night. I happen to think Ben Stiller is hilarious (and yes, I like Jim Carrey, too), and he didn't disappoint. The score was a little overly dramatic; another Alan Silvestri work that sounds a little bit too much like everything else he's done (Forrest Gump, Polar Express, Tomb Raider, etc), but hey, it was good. For some reason, Owen Wilson isn't in the credits, too, which was a nice little mystery.
That brings me to right now, blogging and fading fast. Hats off to you for coming by for another week of drivel; I appreciate the fact that you stop by, even though I get absolutely no tangible benefit from it, except your undying admiration. Or maybe that's just what I tell myself. Anyway, I don't know why you stop by (except because you're related to me), but hey, it's good to have you, and I hope you keep it up. See you next week.
Hey, speaking of bugs (obviously I'm not out of clever segues), it's apparently wasp season again, and I'm not talking about white anglo-saxon protestants, either. Every spring, without fail, the little buggers congregate just outside our upstairs windows, and occasionally make the mistake of venturing in. Bugs are so stupid. You can fly in, but you can't fly out? Come on--navigation!
Anyway. I have a unique catch-and-release method for such pesky critters that I use when they come in. I'm not quite brave enough to attempt a killing--with my luck I'd miss and end up the victim of a wasp attack. I'm not allergic (as far as I know; don't really want to find out, either), but still, I'd rather not be stung multiple times. I don't think I'm out of line in that statement.
Gosh, today is the day of the tangent, apparently. Back to the topic at hand: I use a Tupperware container and a stiff piece of paper to trap them against the window and then throw them out. It works well, unless they're caught up in some craggy terrain, such as the windowsill. Then it's just the waiting game. Eventually, being the top-of-the-food-chain creature that I am, I outwit them. Ha! You may have a compound eye, but I've got a bigger brain, and opposable thumbs. Huzzah!
The upshot of this terribly long story is that I need to call someone about getting screens on my windows. I suppose I could have just typed that sentence much earlier and dispensed with the story, but hey, there's half my blog done already, so we're good.
Moving on. A couple weeks ago, I did some damage to my shoulder sleeping in that terrible bed we had in Three Hills (we moved off the floor and back onto the bed when everyone came over for grad weekend). It seems that I've somehow aggravated it in the moving process; my left shoulder was pretty much completely seized this morning when I woke up.
Actually, it had its genesis somewhere in the middle of the night. I remember having a dream in which I was shot in the back, and the pain I was feeling in real life entered my subconscious. Not that I'd know what it feels like to get a bullet in the back (knives, sure--it's part of the job in ministry--but not bullets), but I imagine it would be painful. And it was, even in dreamland.
I have a criteria for pain that is completely arbitrary and not based on any medical knowledge at all. I will bear it (with varying degrees of fortitude) as long as it doesn't hamper my abilities to get a good night's sleep. Last night, the criteria was defeated. I woke up this morning and could barely move. My first stop (at 6:30 when I woke up from my shooting dream) was the medicine cabinet for some ibuprofen; the next was my doctor's office. My doctor shares the office with two other doctors (used to be three, but this morning, the new guy's name wasn't on the door anymore. In situations like that, I really want to ask, but I probably need to go through back channels, just in case things ended badly or something. That's probably not necessary, but whatever), and they have drop-in hours every weekday before they open. The wait to get an appointment with my doctor is about two weeks. The wait in the morning is 30 seconds. I don't necessarily get to see my own doctor, but seriously, what do I care? As long as the person I see has gone to medical school and is reasonably competent (measured by whether or not they've shaved and showered that morning), I'm good.
The doctor I saw this morning told me that I have some damage to my rhomboid muscle, which sounds like a geometrical figure got into a horrible car wreck. He suggested a shot of long-lasting local anesthetic to dull the pain, and prescribed heavier-duty anti-inflammatory drugs that would guard my stash of ibuprofen (I was going through them at an alarming rate for the last few days). As much as I hate needles, I was willing to get this one; the pain was bad enough, and it was in my back, so I didn't feel it as much. Turns out that getting shot in the back isn't that bad at all.
Anyway. The drugs kicked in earlier today, providing sweet, if incomplete, relief. The pain is still there, it's just not kicking my pain receptors into overdrive every time I turn my neck. Which is really nice. The pharmacist said that the drugs will help the inflammation, which will help the body heal. I don't care as long as it works.
Other than that, nothing of great import. Took the boy (who is still teething like crazy) out for a bit of a walk this morning when he got overtired and mom was ready to throw him out the window. She had a bit of a tough morning--I went to the doctor's, the boy is teething and cranky, and mom-in-law's nerve pain was acting up again. She was the last bastion of health, and it wore her out. She slept while the boy and I went toodling around the neighbourhood.
He fell asleep just as I arrived back home, which meant a relatively painless transfer of sleeping child into his bed. And then he slept. And slept. And slept. His nap was a colossal three hours long, which is shocking and surprising. It got to the point where I had to open the door to make sure he was still breathing. I know he is, but I just need to feed that particular neurosis, I suppose. Ridiculous, but part of parenting.
He woke in a much better mood, I was happy to see. We ate a late lunch and then took another trundle around the neighbourhood. I'm working on losing some weight (all a part of my don't-just-talk-about-it-do-something-about-it philosophy), and walking is great for that, or so I hear. Plus, he just loves the outdoors so much that he'd be happy if we never went inside. We ended up at one of the local coffee shops that has a play area.
Where was mom? She was out getting her hair cut. Now, normally such insignificant news as this would not be reported in this space, but today was different. She cut it off. And it looks spectacular. For the last few years, she's been growing out her hair, more to just see what would happen than anything else. But it was time for a change, and being the adventurous risk-taker that she is, she decided a large change would be good. So now instead of "mom hair" (the kind that's always just tied up in a bun due to having a young kid around), she has a sexy, sophisticated do. Except only I'm allowed to think it's sexy. The rest of you, well, you can claim the "sophisticated" moniker. Deal?
Evening saw us scrounging for dinner ideas, as usual, and eventually settling on sushi. Oh gee, twist my arm some more. The sushi place in our neighbourhood is incredible, and we really missed it while we were gone. The boy is the star of the show there, too. The owner's wife dotes on him hand and foot, which is really funny. I think he'll probably grow up thinking that she's his Japanese god-mother or something. Maybe they'll pass the sushi knowledge on to him.
After that, we decided to rent a movie. We settled on "Night at the Museum," which we had heard was funny. Took a while to get going, but settled in nicely after about an hour or so. Ended well, if predictably, and generally made for a good night. I happen to think Ben Stiller is hilarious (and yes, I like Jim Carrey, too), and he didn't disappoint. The score was a little overly dramatic; another Alan Silvestri work that sounds a little bit too much like everything else he's done (Forrest Gump, Polar Express, Tomb Raider, etc), but hey, it was good. For some reason, Owen Wilson isn't in the credits, too, which was a nice little mystery.
That brings me to right now, blogging and fading fast. Hats off to you for coming by for another week of drivel; I appreciate the fact that you stop by, even though I get absolutely no tangible benefit from it, except your undying admiration. Or maybe that's just what I tell myself. Anyway, I don't know why you stop by (except because you're related to me), but hey, it's good to have you, and I hope you keep it up. See you next week.
5.10.2007
Thursday, May 10, 2007
It'll have to be a quickie tonight--our internet connection has again been reunited with our computer, but our computer is in my mom-in-law's room, and she wants to go to bed. Alas.
Fortunately, there's not much to report. Today was like any other, if any other included a trip into Richmond to visit the great-grandma (the boy's great-grandma, not mine). Fun times were had by all; my sister came out for lunch too, which made it a lot of fun. We hung around and played in the park.
Of course, all this is made more, well, hectic by the fact that teething is yet again back in full swing. Unlike all the previous times, however, this time we're actually getting a result. Two teeth have cut through the gumline so far; both are pre-molars, and both are on the right side of his mouth. So he's going to have gaps between his teeth, and only half a mouthful of teeth at that, but I think it's going to be even cuter to do it that way. Hopefully things start going a little bit more smoothly in the coming days, but there are no guarantees. You know, I'll put up with a whole lot of angry baby if it means that teeth are coming. At least you only have to cut teeth once.
Other than that, not much to report. Got some happy news on the job front today: the church that I'm pursuing a relationship with has decided that we're good enough to move to the next level with, which is really exciting. We had lunch with the pastor and his wife, along with the personnel guy, yesterday, and I suppose it went well enough to warrant a call-back. I'm really excited about this church and its paradigm of ministry, and the job is pretty stellar, too. All will be revealed in due time if things go well. If not, well, you'll always wonder what church it was.
The only really frustrating thing that happened today was with my DVD player. I'm four weeks behind in my 24 watching, so I had every intention to catch up on at least two of those episodes tonight (while keeping tabs on the Giants game and planning my viewing around America's Next Top Model, which is one of the wife's favourites). I put in the time burning a DVD from my computer (which took close to three hours), popped the DVD into the player, and alas, no 24! It wouldn't even load the menu. Disappointing.
You see, our DVD player is a pretty good one, or at least it was in 2002 when it was purchased. I'm of the school that says that products should last more than five years, but apparently, the electronics industry isn't with me in that. It has decided to completely stop working now, at least for burned DVD's, and even some "real" ones. Frustrating. But it could have been worse. We were watching a movie several months ago, and we got about 15 minutes in before the player stopped reading it entirely. It was frustrating because, although it wasn't a great movie, we had watched enough to be invested in it, and getting cut off 15 minutes in is really teasing. Better to not see any of it, in my mind.
Anyway. This has all been pretty inane, so it's best to put it (and me) to bed. Thanks for coming by and putting in your time. See you tomorrow.
Fortunately, there's not much to report. Today was like any other, if any other included a trip into Richmond to visit the great-grandma (the boy's great-grandma, not mine). Fun times were had by all; my sister came out for lunch too, which made it a lot of fun. We hung around and played in the park.
Of course, all this is made more, well, hectic by the fact that teething is yet again back in full swing. Unlike all the previous times, however, this time we're actually getting a result. Two teeth have cut through the gumline so far; both are pre-molars, and both are on the right side of his mouth. So he's going to have gaps between his teeth, and only half a mouthful of teeth at that, but I think it's going to be even cuter to do it that way. Hopefully things start going a little bit more smoothly in the coming days, but there are no guarantees. You know, I'll put up with a whole lot of angry baby if it means that teeth are coming. At least you only have to cut teeth once.
Other than that, not much to report. Got some happy news on the job front today: the church that I'm pursuing a relationship with has decided that we're good enough to move to the next level with, which is really exciting. We had lunch with the pastor and his wife, along with the personnel guy, yesterday, and I suppose it went well enough to warrant a call-back. I'm really excited about this church and its paradigm of ministry, and the job is pretty stellar, too. All will be revealed in due time if things go well. If not, well, you'll always wonder what church it was.
The only really frustrating thing that happened today was with my DVD player. I'm four weeks behind in my 24 watching, so I had every intention to catch up on at least two of those episodes tonight (while keeping tabs on the Giants game and planning my viewing around America's Next Top Model, which is one of the wife's favourites). I put in the time burning a DVD from my computer (which took close to three hours), popped the DVD into the player, and alas, no 24! It wouldn't even load the menu. Disappointing.
You see, our DVD player is a pretty good one, or at least it was in 2002 when it was purchased. I'm of the school that says that products should last more than five years, but apparently, the electronics industry isn't with me in that. It has decided to completely stop working now, at least for burned DVD's, and even some "real" ones. Frustrating. But it could have been worse. We were watching a movie several months ago, and we got about 15 minutes in before the player stopped reading it entirely. It was frustrating because, although it wasn't a great movie, we had watched enough to be invested in it, and getting cut off 15 minutes in is really teasing. Better to not see any of it, in my mind.
Anyway. This has all been pretty inane, so it's best to put it (and me) to bed. Thanks for coming by and putting in your time. See you tomorrow.
5.09.2007
Wednesday, May 9, 2007
After a month-and-a-half of the days just flying by, time seems to be standing still now. As I typed the date in the title box, I thought to myself, "It's only Wednesday?" Maybe it's because of the sheer number of things we've done this week, but man, I feel like it should be Friday by now. Not that it makes a difference--when you're unemployed, every day is the same.
Speaking of that, I had a very strange moment today when I think it finally set in for me that I had accomplished something pretty major in getting my degree. The boy, after having an off night due to cutting two more teeth, was down for his nap earlier than usual, and the wife decided to catch up on some of her missed sleep as well. That left me with the proverbial run of the house, the ability to do whatever I wanted. And I had nothing to do.
I couldn't believe it. For the first time in five years, I had no deadlines, no assignments, no looming projects, absolutely nothing better that I could be working on. It was bizarre, and it made me surprisingly antsy.
The good thing about this current down time is the chance to finally explore some hobbies. For whatever reason, it's seemed that since we've been married, I haven't really been able to squeeze hobbies into my life. Maybe it's because all my free me-time was spent with my nose in a book or an essay. Regardless of the reason, my pursuit of my hobbies has been spotty at best. Today, I picked up a book on gardening and just started to read it. I've had vague plans for the back garden at the townhouse (and the "backyard" that we have) since we've moved in, but I've never been able to put any flesh on those plans. Now I can, and will. I came up with some great ideas today, and it's nice to have the time to work through them. Of course, without a job, I don't have the money to actually pull them off, but hey, one thing at a time, right?
Moving on. How about a travelling story? Sure! I'll pick up where I left off yesterday, which was Saturday night. On Sunday morning, we began to pack our boxes into my father-in-law's trailer in a very serious fashion. I was (and continue to be) blown away by the amount of stuff we've accumulated, but I'm sure I've mentioned that already. After we packed for a while, we took a trip out to Drumheller with the whole family for a look-see at the dinosaurs. Only my mother-in-law had been there previously (and us, of course), so it was a good experience for everyone.
On Monday, it was time to hit the road. We left at around 10:30 in the morning, after a frantic final clean-up by my mom and my wife's step-mom, and several last checks around the house to see if we'd forgotten anything. And then it was time to leave Three Hills for the last time.
You know what? It was sad. My wife cried. Heck, I almost cried (but, as a man, I forbid tears from coming to my eyes). I had that characteristic lump in my throat as we drove away, not so much because I'll miss the town itself, but because I'll miss the lifestyle. We left behind good friends, but we also took with us many memories. The Three Hills chapter of our life is full of major milestones (especially as it relates to the boy--first teeth, first steps, first word, all sorts of things), and we'll always remember it fondly. The sad feeling lasted until we hit the west side of the Rockies, though, after which we got excited about coming home again, and we really did leave Three Hills behind.
On the way home, we stopped overnight in Golden and Kamloops, taking three days to travel instead of two. As much as I really just wanted to drive through the night and get home as soon as humanly possible, it was good to take it a little bit slower. Golden was great--we were originally going to camp, but realized it would probably be too cold (especially for the boy), so we ended up splitting a hotel room with my parents. The wife's dad and step-mom stayed in a campground just up the road (they have a camper with a furnace and walls, as opposed to a tent, which is what we would have been staying in).
What a beautiful spot. As we drove into town and turned toward the campground, we found ourselves right in the middle of a flock of bighorn sheep. It was wild. Later, one of the males came into the campground and started ramming a nearby tree with his horns. It was pretty amazing to be that close to nature, especially for the boy, who tended to look at the sheep as large cats, but then, everything's a cat to him, so I guess that's cool. We'll work on distinguishing the animals from each other a little bit later on.
The drive was good all the way--no snow or major trouble to worry about. There sure is plenty of construction, though. Just outside of Golden, the road is really windy and steep, so they're building a new overpass that looks like something out of The Lord of the Rings. It's breathtaking, and a marvel of engineering, as my engineer dad says--it'll probably be on the cover of an engineering trade journal when it's complete. I don't know, that doesn't sound all that prestigious to me, but I'm not an engineer. They're all a bunch of nerds anyway.
Good times were had by all, and it was good to finally take the turn into Langley again. How we missed it. And how we've just jumped right back into our routines since we've been here. Amazing. I even remembered where we stored the measuring cups. Not bad for having been away so long.
In other news, I went to the Giants game tonight. They're in the WHL final against the evil Medicine Hat Tigers, and the Tigers got the best of us tonight. It went to OT, but it only took 32 seconds for the Tigers to win it. I felt a little ripped-off by that; here we wait an entire 15-minute intermission, and they score 32 seconds in? Come on! We want at least 15 minutes of extra hockey. But it wasn't to be.
The Giants are a good team, but they didn't come out with any fire at all tonight. The second period was especially disappointing--their play reached a level of futility matched only by the Canucks. In fact, I think their power play was worse than the Canucks, if that's even possible. Oh well, the series is only 2-1, so there's plenty of time to pull it out. Plus, we're guaranteed a spot in the Memorial Cup anyway (by virtue of the fact that we're hosting it), so it really doesn't matter all that much who wins this series, although bragging rights are great.
Speaking of the Memorial Cup, I'm really looking forward to this year's tournament. My parents have been Giants' season ticket holders since the very beginning, and as such, they were able to buy their seats for the whole tournament. It's going to be pretty special, because I get to go to a game and bring the boy to his very first live hockey game. I'm so excited about it that I'm getting goosebumps. I can't wait to take him to the rink, let him breathe in the recirculated air, and smell the alcohol seeping from the pores of the guy who sits in front of us (whom we affectionately call "Mr. Six-Beer"). It'll be amazing. Songs will be sung.
Anyway. That's it for tonight. Tomorrow, it's a trip to great-grandma's house for a visit, as well as many other fun and exciting things that I'm sure you're anxious to hear about already. See you tomorrow.
Speaking of that, I had a very strange moment today when I think it finally set in for me that I had accomplished something pretty major in getting my degree. The boy, after having an off night due to cutting two more teeth, was down for his nap earlier than usual, and the wife decided to catch up on some of her missed sleep as well. That left me with the proverbial run of the house, the ability to do whatever I wanted. And I had nothing to do.
I couldn't believe it. For the first time in five years, I had no deadlines, no assignments, no looming projects, absolutely nothing better that I could be working on. It was bizarre, and it made me surprisingly antsy.
The good thing about this current down time is the chance to finally explore some hobbies. For whatever reason, it's seemed that since we've been married, I haven't really been able to squeeze hobbies into my life. Maybe it's because all my free me-time was spent with my nose in a book or an essay. Regardless of the reason, my pursuit of my hobbies has been spotty at best. Today, I picked up a book on gardening and just started to read it. I've had vague plans for the back garden at the townhouse (and the "backyard" that we have) since we've moved in, but I've never been able to put any flesh on those plans. Now I can, and will. I came up with some great ideas today, and it's nice to have the time to work through them. Of course, without a job, I don't have the money to actually pull them off, but hey, one thing at a time, right?
Moving on. How about a travelling story? Sure! I'll pick up where I left off yesterday, which was Saturday night. On Sunday morning, we began to pack our boxes into my father-in-law's trailer in a very serious fashion. I was (and continue to be) blown away by the amount of stuff we've accumulated, but I'm sure I've mentioned that already. After we packed for a while, we took a trip out to Drumheller with the whole family for a look-see at the dinosaurs. Only my mother-in-law had been there previously (and us, of course), so it was a good experience for everyone.
On Monday, it was time to hit the road. We left at around 10:30 in the morning, after a frantic final clean-up by my mom and my wife's step-mom, and several last checks around the house to see if we'd forgotten anything. And then it was time to leave Three Hills for the last time.
You know what? It was sad. My wife cried. Heck, I almost cried (but, as a man, I forbid tears from coming to my eyes). I had that characteristic lump in my throat as we drove away, not so much because I'll miss the town itself, but because I'll miss the lifestyle. We left behind good friends, but we also took with us many memories. The Three Hills chapter of our life is full of major milestones (especially as it relates to the boy--first teeth, first steps, first word, all sorts of things), and we'll always remember it fondly. The sad feeling lasted until we hit the west side of the Rockies, though, after which we got excited about coming home again, and we really did leave Three Hills behind.
On the way home, we stopped overnight in Golden and Kamloops, taking three days to travel instead of two. As much as I really just wanted to drive through the night and get home as soon as humanly possible, it was good to take it a little bit slower. Golden was great--we were originally going to camp, but realized it would probably be too cold (especially for the boy), so we ended up splitting a hotel room with my parents. The wife's dad and step-mom stayed in a campground just up the road (they have a camper with a furnace and walls, as opposed to a tent, which is what we would have been staying in).
What a beautiful spot. As we drove into town and turned toward the campground, we found ourselves right in the middle of a flock of bighorn sheep. It was wild. Later, one of the males came into the campground and started ramming a nearby tree with his horns. It was pretty amazing to be that close to nature, especially for the boy, who tended to look at the sheep as large cats, but then, everything's a cat to him, so I guess that's cool. We'll work on distinguishing the animals from each other a little bit later on.
The drive was good all the way--no snow or major trouble to worry about. There sure is plenty of construction, though. Just outside of Golden, the road is really windy and steep, so they're building a new overpass that looks like something out of The Lord of the Rings. It's breathtaking, and a marvel of engineering, as my engineer dad says--it'll probably be on the cover of an engineering trade journal when it's complete. I don't know, that doesn't sound all that prestigious to me, but I'm not an engineer. They're all a bunch of nerds anyway.
Good times were had by all, and it was good to finally take the turn into Langley again. How we missed it. And how we've just jumped right back into our routines since we've been here. Amazing. I even remembered where we stored the measuring cups. Not bad for having been away so long.
In other news, I went to the Giants game tonight. They're in the WHL final against the evil Medicine Hat Tigers, and the Tigers got the best of us tonight. It went to OT, but it only took 32 seconds for the Tigers to win it. I felt a little ripped-off by that; here we wait an entire 15-minute intermission, and they score 32 seconds in? Come on! We want at least 15 minutes of extra hockey. But it wasn't to be.
The Giants are a good team, but they didn't come out with any fire at all tonight. The second period was especially disappointing--their play reached a level of futility matched only by the Canucks. In fact, I think their power play was worse than the Canucks, if that's even possible. Oh well, the series is only 2-1, so there's plenty of time to pull it out. Plus, we're guaranteed a spot in the Memorial Cup anyway (by virtue of the fact that we're hosting it), so it really doesn't matter all that much who wins this series, although bragging rights are great.
Speaking of the Memorial Cup, I'm really looking forward to this year's tournament. My parents have been Giants' season ticket holders since the very beginning, and as such, they were able to buy their seats for the whole tournament. It's going to be pretty special, because I get to go to a game and bring the boy to his very first live hockey game. I'm so excited about it that I'm getting goosebumps. I can't wait to take him to the rink, let him breathe in the recirculated air, and smell the alcohol seeping from the pores of the guy who sits in front of us (whom we affectionately call "Mr. Six-Beer"). It'll be amazing. Songs will be sung.
Anyway. That's it for tonight. Tomorrow, it's a trip to great-grandma's house for a visit, as well as many other fun and exciting things that I'm sure you're anxious to hear about already. See you tomorrow.
5.08.2007
Tuesday, May 8, 2007
If there is one show on TV that holds absolutely no draw for me, it's "Dancing with the Stars." Really, nothing about it is interesting. Oh sure, there's good dancing, but seriously, who cares? Is this what society has come to? Do we really deify our celebrities so much that we care which of them can dance better? Argh.
Sorry to those of you who like the show--I know there are many of you, and I know you think I'm wrong, and I probably am. But I just don't like it.
Why do I bring this up? Because it's on right now, and wife and mother-in-law are watching it in the other room. Which is why I'm in here, blogging away.
Anyway. The pace of life continues to be frantic around here in the continuing aftermath of the move back. Boxes are continuing to be unpacked, compounded by the fact that we seem to have accumulated a whole lot more stuff than we had when we left. The house was full in September; it's fuller now. And everything has to go somewhere, doesn't it? In some cases, "somewhere" means straight into the recycling (which they pick up curbside here in the Lower Mainland, a bit of a change from Three Hills). The annual garage sale in our complex is this weekend, too, which should help clear things out a bit.
By the way, it turns out that this new blog template I'm using doesn't show bold type well, or at all. I've moved the usual bold words to bold and italics, which explains the changes. You noticed, right? Right?
So. I was thinking about which story to tell tonight, and I figured we'd start with good old graduation. Turned out to be a good day, if a little hectic. It all started Friday, with a rehearsal in the morning for the ceremony the next morning (a ceremony put on by the senior class, which is called the baccalaureate), and then a rehearsal in the afternoon for the ceremony the next afternoon (which was the traditional cap-and-gown affair known as commencement). Yes, we did practice coming into and leaving the hall. Prairie stands on so much formality that it's very important to make sure we all came in properly. It was a little bit hard to take, but it was for a good enough cause that we endured it. Had it been in the middle of exam week instead of at the end, I think tempers would have run pretty high, but we were all in our post-exam euphoria, so we didn't mind. Much.
Three sets of parents all arrived in town Friday as well, which made for a full, and exciting, house. After three months without any face-to-face contact with your family, it's amazing how much it means to see them again. It was also really good to have them out for grad.
Saturday was the actual grad day. I led worship at the first ceremony (the baccalaureate), which turned out really well. It felt good to be back leading a team of musicians again--I didn't realize how much I missed it. The service itself was a little bit meh, but good nonetheless. Too many speeches that weren't really all that engaging is what it boiled down to.
The afternoon ceremony was good, by which I mean too long and boring. Seriously, it was my own grad, and I wanted to leave. I think it went a lot longer than planned though, which doesn't necessarily make me feel better, but it's how it is. The keynote speaker was the CEO of World Vision Canada, which I was looking forward to right up until he started talking. You know, World Vision is a fantastic organization that does a whole lot of really great things in the developing world, but man, that speech was tough to listen to. It ended up basically being a fundraising speech, but we all could have predicted that.
The speech was so inappropriate for a graduation that it was almost funny. Right before the guy came up to do his talk, we sang the venerable old hymn, "How Great Thou Art." Too slowly, mind you, but whatever. The president of the college introduced the speaker, and the first thing he said was, "Whenever I sing that song it reminds me of the Rwandan genocide." Ouch.
There was a story behind it that was quite moving, but seriously, at a grad? Come on. He ended up talking for what I think was close to an hour, which is probably why the service went longer than they anticipated. Oy.
But hey, the end result is what I wanted: I got my degree. My name was called, I walked across the stage, I shook the president's hand, and I got my degree. Okay, I got a degree holder. The final marks weren't in on the day of grad (they were just due on Monday, which means I should know what I got by sometime next week, I hope), so they didn't really know if we had really graduated. I mean, I know I did, but the official grades weren't in. Anyway, I have a lovely letter from the president of the college (one paragraph of which is a plea for future monetary support--totally shameless, really), so that's good.
Afterwards, we all went out for dinner to the new restaurant in town, which was a total gong show. We had a large party (12) that they had to split between two servers. Unfortunately, one server was clearly more experienced than the other, and took the orders for one side of the table and entered them into the computer before the other server had finished (good teamwork, guys), which resulted in six of us getting our food 30 minutes earlier than the other side. They were clearing our plates before the rest had received their food. It was ridiculous. The worst part was that the best the manager could do for us was to take some appetizers off our bill. Useless. Not much of an experience, but I guess they don't care about keeping my business since I was leaving. Brutal. But an appropriate note to leave on, based on the general level of customer service throughout the province.
After dinner, a visit with some old friends of my parents who used to be missionary pilots, but now are working at the college. Good times. Then it was time for the ritual celebratory cigar that has become an integral part of any joyous occasion. It was a good one, too.
The rest of the weekend was hectic, but fun, and I'll tell you more tomorrow.
Something caught my eye as I was looking through the online news yesterday and again today: the dismissal of three crew members of the BC Ferry that sank some time ago. Seems that they weren't following proper operating procedures, including keeping a proper lookout. They were, rightly, fired. Two people lost their lives, hundreds of others were affected, and a hugely expensive boat is sitting at the bottom of the ocean, all because these three dolts didn't do their jobs. Cut and dry, right?
Not if you're the union representing the workers. You see, even though these three crew members didn't cooperate with the internal investigation, and even though it seems to be pretty clear what caused the accident, the union is grieving the firings, saying that "BC Ferries should at least have waited until that TSB report was completed before taking any action." Right. Because that would've changed things.
In my opinion, the fact that these three hadn't been kicked to the curb until now shows a whole lot more grace than we should be willing to extend. Because of the direct inaction of these three, a major catastrophe occurred. Is there any other appropriate way to proceed than to terminate their employment? Honestly, if they had any backbone at all, they would've fessed up and resigned. But I guess that's more than we can ask from lazy union employees.
Again, don't read too much into these statements. Not everyone who works for BC Ferries is as, well, stupid as these three. Not every member of a union is lazy and spineless. These ones were. And they deserve what they got. Sure, people make mistakes. But there must be consequences for those mistakes. Especially when people lose their lives as a direct result.
With that, I'm done for the night. Tomorrow, I'll tell you a travelling story, and regale you with tales of going to the Giants game. At least we have one championship team in this city.
See you tomorrow.
Sorry to those of you who like the show--I know there are many of you, and I know you think I'm wrong, and I probably am. But I just don't like it.
Why do I bring this up? Because it's on right now, and wife and mother-in-law are watching it in the other room. Which is why I'm in here, blogging away.
Anyway. The pace of life continues to be frantic around here in the continuing aftermath of the move back. Boxes are continuing to be unpacked, compounded by the fact that we seem to have accumulated a whole lot more stuff than we had when we left. The house was full in September; it's fuller now. And everything has to go somewhere, doesn't it? In some cases, "somewhere" means straight into the recycling (which they pick up curbside here in the Lower Mainland, a bit of a change from Three Hills). The annual garage sale in our complex is this weekend, too, which should help clear things out a bit.
By the way, it turns out that this new blog template I'm using doesn't show bold type well, or at all. I've moved the usual bold words to bold and italics, which explains the changes. You noticed, right? Right?
So. I was thinking about which story to tell tonight, and I figured we'd start with good old graduation. Turned out to be a good day, if a little hectic. It all started Friday, with a rehearsal in the morning for the ceremony the next morning (a ceremony put on by the senior class, which is called the baccalaureate), and then a rehearsal in the afternoon for the ceremony the next afternoon (which was the traditional cap-and-gown affair known as commencement). Yes, we did practice coming into and leaving the hall. Prairie stands on so much formality that it's very important to make sure we all came in properly. It was a little bit hard to take, but it was for a good enough cause that we endured it. Had it been in the middle of exam week instead of at the end, I think tempers would have run pretty high, but we were all in our post-exam euphoria, so we didn't mind. Much.
Three sets of parents all arrived in town Friday as well, which made for a full, and exciting, house. After three months without any face-to-face contact with your family, it's amazing how much it means to see them again. It was also really good to have them out for grad.
Saturday was the actual grad day. I led worship at the first ceremony (the baccalaureate), which turned out really well. It felt good to be back leading a team of musicians again--I didn't realize how much I missed it. The service itself was a little bit meh, but good nonetheless. Too many speeches that weren't really all that engaging is what it boiled down to.
The afternoon ceremony was good, by which I mean too long and boring. Seriously, it was my own grad, and I wanted to leave. I think it went a lot longer than planned though, which doesn't necessarily make me feel better, but it's how it is. The keynote speaker was the CEO of World Vision Canada, which I was looking forward to right up until he started talking. You know, World Vision is a fantastic organization that does a whole lot of really great things in the developing world, but man, that speech was tough to listen to. It ended up basically being a fundraising speech, but we all could have predicted that.
The speech was so inappropriate for a graduation that it was almost funny. Right before the guy came up to do his talk, we sang the venerable old hymn, "How Great Thou Art." Too slowly, mind you, but whatever. The president of the college introduced the speaker, and the first thing he said was, "Whenever I sing that song it reminds me of the Rwandan genocide." Ouch.
There was a story behind it that was quite moving, but seriously, at a grad? Come on. He ended up talking for what I think was close to an hour, which is probably why the service went longer than they anticipated. Oy.
But hey, the end result is what I wanted: I got my degree. My name was called, I walked across the stage, I shook the president's hand, and I got my degree. Okay, I got a degree holder. The final marks weren't in on the day of grad (they were just due on Monday, which means I should know what I got by sometime next week, I hope), so they didn't really know if we had really graduated. I mean, I know I did, but the official grades weren't in. Anyway, I have a lovely letter from the president of the college (one paragraph of which is a plea for future monetary support--totally shameless, really), so that's good.
Afterwards, we all went out for dinner to the new restaurant in town, which was a total gong show. We had a large party (12) that they had to split between two servers. Unfortunately, one server was clearly more experienced than the other, and took the orders for one side of the table and entered them into the computer before the other server had finished (good teamwork, guys), which resulted in six of us getting our food 30 minutes earlier than the other side. They were clearing our plates before the rest had received their food. It was ridiculous. The worst part was that the best the manager could do for us was to take some appetizers off our bill. Useless. Not much of an experience, but I guess they don't care about keeping my business since I was leaving. Brutal. But an appropriate note to leave on, based on the general level of customer service throughout the province.
After dinner, a visit with some old friends of my parents who used to be missionary pilots, but now are working at the college. Good times. Then it was time for the ritual celebratory cigar that has become an integral part of any joyous occasion. It was a good one, too.
The rest of the weekend was hectic, but fun, and I'll tell you more tomorrow.
Something caught my eye as I was looking through the online news yesterday and again today: the dismissal of three crew members of the BC Ferry that sank some time ago. Seems that they weren't following proper operating procedures, including keeping a proper lookout. They were, rightly, fired. Two people lost their lives, hundreds of others were affected, and a hugely expensive boat is sitting at the bottom of the ocean, all because these three dolts didn't do their jobs. Cut and dry, right?
Not if you're the union representing the workers. You see, even though these three crew members didn't cooperate with the internal investigation, and even though it seems to be pretty clear what caused the accident, the union is grieving the firings, saying that "BC Ferries should at least have waited until that TSB report was completed before taking any action." Right. Because that would've changed things.
In my opinion, the fact that these three hadn't been kicked to the curb until now shows a whole lot more grace than we should be willing to extend. Because of the direct inaction of these three, a major catastrophe occurred. Is there any other appropriate way to proceed than to terminate their employment? Honestly, if they had any backbone at all, they would've fessed up and resigned. But I guess that's more than we can ask from lazy union employees.
Again, don't read too much into these statements. Not everyone who works for BC Ferries is as, well, stupid as these three. Not every member of a union is lazy and spineless. These ones were. And they deserve what they got. Sure, people make mistakes. But there must be consequences for those mistakes. Especially when people lose their lives as a direct result.
With that, I'm done for the night. Tomorrow, I'll tell you a travelling story, and regale you with tales of going to the Giants game. At least we have one championship team in this city.
See you tomorrow.
5.07.2007
Monday, May 7, 2007
A new stage of blogging life demands a new look, don't you think? I think so. Although I haven't quite worked everything out yet (for example, the title stinks, and I'm well aware of that, but nothing more witty comes to mind, so I'm not going to force it), I'll get there in a few days. I'm pretty sure my brain has checked out and gone on vacation since I've graduated. That, at least, is the excuse I'm using for producing a second-rate blog for a short while. That or I'll just continue to be second-rate until you lower your expectations and I can get away with it long-term. Either way, we ought to have a lot of fun.
So. Back home, at last. It's been quite a week, to say the least. In fact, I really have no idea where to begin with the storytelling. It's a tough balance for me: on the one hand, you're here of your own free will, so you probably don't mind hearing the occasional story; on the other hand, some of the stories that I think are interesting probably aren't. I'm trying to tread the line between giving you some entertaining and pithy anecdotes and just being another blog about the boring details of my life.
Well, at least I'm back to the philosophizing again. Looks like my brain didn't completely shut off after all. Except for making up words. Or is "philosophizing" actually a word? Let's see what Microsoft thinks of it: yep, we're good.
Anyway. It's hard to believe that last weekend, I was graduating from college. It's been such a crazy week that it feels like that happened months ago. Maybe that's the natural process of compartmentalization that just happens with major life events. Put it in a box, seal up the box, and file it away next to wedding and delivery-room memories.
This week's been so crazy, in fact, that I still don't feel like I've had a chance to reflect on the fact that I'm actually done with school, at least for now. My unfinished degree has been such a defining thing in my life for the last 10 years that I've come to think of it as an old friend. An old friend who always makes you pay for lunch and steals all your clothes. And now that old friend is gone. I'm not sad to see him go, but I am going to miss him, warts and all.
So here I sit, back in my living room in Langley, having this odd feeling that nothing has changed, and everything has changed. Coming back and slowly settling back into the old routines has a familiar sort of comfort to it, and yet the routines just seem a little different when they're filtered through the matrix of what I've learned over this past year and the experiences I've had. We do the same things now that we did before, but they've taken on a new sense of significance and meaning having been away. It's hard to quantify, really.
Maybe it's because I feel like the last chapter of my life is still finishing up while the next one is in the process of starting. I know that a full-time job lingers just around the corner, and that jumping into it will require yet another re-writing of the familiar routines, so I hold back somewhat in the present moment while I wait. Although I've graduated and we're back, my station in life hasn't really changed just yet. It will soon enough, but that almost makes it harder.
And yes, there are some promising things happening on the job front. I'm not going to mention them at all in the blog, mainly because of what happened when I last mentioned a job opportunity, but they are there. This week will bring more clarity in that sphere, so hopefully there will be something to report in the very near future.
Moving on in the usual manner, which is sharp and without appropriate segue. It's funny how blog postings acquire a life of their own, and morph and change over the time it takes me to type them. I had gone down a whole different track with this one, and went back up to the top to re-work the beginning, but I ended up re-writing the whole thing. Of course, that means that it's now pretty late, and my wife is probably wondering why I'm not in bed yet, which also means that it's time to stop for the evening.
By the way, I said last time that I had a plan for this blog, and that plan would be revealed today. Well, if you were waiting for some kind of big announcement, you're going to be disappointed. Aside from a redesign, I don't think anything will change. How's that for boring? I'm still going to make an effort to get a posting up here every weekday (written the night before to facilitate extra confusion), and that's about it. It might be a tough go for the first little while--things are a little crazy in the house right now, what with all the boxes around and our internet-connected computer in the living room (it's a long story that involves my mom-in-law staying in the room that is our office, which houses our computer. The machine I'm using right now is hers, and it's downstairs. Of course, it doesn't have my personal touches that I like so much, like Firefox instead of IE, but it'll do for now). I will, however, make the valiant effort.
Coming up this week, then, it's stories from grad and our trip home. The short version: I graduated and we came home. For the longer version, stay tuned.
I'm glad to have you back along for the ride, and I hope you're looking forward to continuing along this journey with me. See you tomorrow.
So. Back home, at last. It's been quite a week, to say the least. In fact, I really have no idea where to begin with the storytelling. It's a tough balance for me: on the one hand, you're here of your own free will, so you probably don't mind hearing the occasional story; on the other hand, some of the stories that I think are interesting probably aren't. I'm trying to tread the line between giving you some entertaining and pithy anecdotes and just being another blog about the boring details of my life.
Well, at least I'm back to the philosophizing again. Looks like my brain didn't completely shut off after all. Except for making up words. Or is "philosophizing" actually a word? Let's see what Microsoft thinks of it: yep, we're good.
Anyway. It's hard to believe that last weekend, I was graduating from college. It's been such a crazy week that it feels like that happened months ago. Maybe that's the natural process of compartmentalization that just happens with major life events. Put it in a box, seal up the box, and file it away next to wedding and delivery-room memories.
This week's been so crazy, in fact, that I still don't feel like I've had a chance to reflect on the fact that I'm actually done with school, at least for now. My unfinished degree has been such a defining thing in my life for the last 10 years that I've come to think of it as an old friend. An old friend who always makes you pay for lunch and steals all your clothes. And now that old friend is gone. I'm not sad to see him go, but I am going to miss him, warts and all.
So here I sit, back in my living room in Langley, having this odd feeling that nothing has changed, and everything has changed. Coming back and slowly settling back into the old routines has a familiar sort of comfort to it, and yet the routines just seem a little different when they're filtered through the matrix of what I've learned over this past year and the experiences I've had. We do the same things now that we did before, but they've taken on a new sense of significance and meaning having been away. It's hard to quantify, really.
Maybe it's because I feel like the last chapter of my life is still finishing up while the next one is in the process of starting. I know that a full-time job lingers just around the corner, and that jumping into it will require yet another re-writing of the familiar routines, so I hold back somewhat in the present moment while I wait. Although I've graduated and we're back, my station in life hasn't really changed just yet. It will soon enough, but that almost makes it harder.
And yes, there are some promising things happening on the job front. I'm not going to mention them at all in the blog, mainly because of what happened when I last mentioned a job opportunity, but they are there. This week will bring more clarity in that sphere, so hopefully there will be something to report in the very near future.
Moving on in the usual manner, which is sharp and without appropriate segue. It's funny how blog postings acquire a life of their own, and morph and change over the time it takes me to type them. I had gone down a whole different track with this one, and went back up to the top to re-work the beginning, but I ended up re-writing the whole thing. Of course, that means that it's now pretty late, and my wife is probably wondering why I'm not in bed yet, which also means that it's time to stop for the evening.
By the way, I said last time that I had a plan for this blog, and that plan would be revealed today. Well, if you were waiting for some kind of big announcement, you're going to be disappointed. Aside from a redesign, I don't think anything will change. How's that for boring? I'm still going to make an effort to get a posting up here every weekday (written the night before to facilitate extra confusion), and that's about it. It might be a tough go for the first little while--things are a little crazy in the house right now, what with all the boxes around and our internet-connected computer in the living room (it's a long story that involves my mom-in-law staying in the room that is our office, which houses our computer. The machine I'm using right now is hers, and it's downstairs. Of course, it doesn't have my personal touches that I like so much, like Firefox instead of IE, but it'll do for now). I will, however, make the valiant effort.
Coming up this week, then, it's stories from grad and our trip home. The short version: I graduated and we came home. For the longer version, stay tuned.
I'm glad to have you back along for the ride, and I hope you're looking forward to continuing along this journey with me. See you tomorrow.
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