Last one ever. This is weird. I'll admit to a certain nostalgia settling over me, but in the moment, it's hard to own it. I see its vague shadow on the horizon, but it's not fully realized yet, probably because we're so busy with tying up all the loose ends that have to be tied. Things are going well in that department, though, so the stress level, although expectedly elevated, is not as high as it could be. Ask me on Sunday, though.
That's pretty much what today consisted of: packing boxes and cleaning house. I purchased and installed the new door handle today--looks good. Although it's a pretty easy process, a friend came by while I was working on it, and he was wowed by my expertise. Easily impressed, then, are we?
It turns out that they don't actually make the type of door handle/lock that I broke, so we had to go with a substitute. The type we have on both our front and side doors right now is the push-in kind (more like what you'd see in a bathroom than anything, only more sturdy), but they wisely don't make that kind for exterior doors. The replacement looks fine, though, and I only hope the landlords will be satisfied with the fix.
Besides fixing a door and packing a bunch of boxes, there were other things of note. The boy had lots of time to play outside today. We initially went out at 8:45, with the intention of leaving to walk to the hardware store at 9:00. The neighbour kids were out as well, though, and so the time was better spent playing with them. It's pretty funny to watch the boy play with other kids. For the first time, I actually thought it would be pretty neat to have more than one child, which is a big, bold statement for me.
The one kid, a three-year-old boy, was really getting under my boy's skin, though. It was that situation where every toy that our boy wanted to play with was suddenly the coolest toy around. This led to a little bit of frustration, but our boy is pretty resilient, so it didn't bother him too much. Until he got really tired--that's when he just got pissed off.
We also had an interesting moment while I was working on the lock. The neighbour kids were very interested in what was going on (the boy and a five-year-old girl), and were watching the lock installation carefully. When I needed to get another tool out of the shed, they of course wanted to come and check the shed out, so they trundled off after me. Our boy was standing there watching the whole thing, and suddenly broke out in an angry cry that we rarely see. Turns out he was jealous of the time I was spending with these other kids. Pretty interesting stuff. Once I got back to him and gave him sole attention, he was fine. Apparently, he's very protective of me.
After his morning nap and lunch, I headed off to the college to help set up for the weekend. What a gong show. It's amazing they can actually pull this off, and they could probably save themselves a lot of trouble if, say, the lines of responsibility were more clearly drawn. As it turned out, I had to talk to three different people to get an answer to a relatively simple question, and even then, I'm not sure I got the right person. So tomorrow at 9:00, I have to go back and see what else I need to do.
A really funny thing happened in the course of setting up, though. We were setting up 1000 chairs (there were only five of us--do the math), and trying to figure out if we'd need to angle the sections and how much in order to give people good viewing (how's that for a run-on sentence, by the way? The rules of grammar are all officially suspended this evening). The guy in charge of set-up was working all this out, telling us where he wanted things, when suddenly, he looked at his watch and said, "Coffee," at which point all his employees literally stopped what they were doing and walked out. Leaving three of us (another person had joined at this point) to pick our jaws up off the floor. He just left, without telling us what he wanted us to do, or even really doing anything.
I didn't think this was union shop, so I asked. The answer: "No, but they take their breaks very seriously." Apparently. Once 3:00 rolls around, a break must be taken, or else the delicate machinery that keeps the college running will grind to a halt. Do I want to mess with that? No. Far be it from me to, say, ask for some parting directions. But he didn't say a word--he just walked out. It was the strangest thing I've ever seen.
Don't get me wrong. I'm not opposed to people taking coffee breaks. I think they're great and necessary, and hey, if your contract says that a half-hour coffee break goes at 3:00, then I think you should take it. I just think that holding so strictly to the clock that you must leave the premises as soon as the second hand reaches the 12 is silly. At least respect the rest of us enough to explain why you're about to disappear, and perhaps give us an idea as to what we can do in the meantime. Seriously.
After that fiasco, I came home and hung around for a bit with the boy before dinner. After dinner, it was to the park (with a big slide) and then the usual routine of bed. Manic cleaning after dinner (oven, walls, windows, etc), and now some down-time. Nice.
Since this is the last posting for a while (and the last one ever in Three Hills), I thought I'd leave you with some parting reflections, neatly categorized for your reading pleasure.
Things I learned while I lived here:
1. There still exists a place in Canada where people don't lock their doors because they have no need to.
2. I am more materialistic than I'd like to think.
3. It's not necessary to have 100 channels of TV--two fuzzy ones will do just fine.
4. Although I come from the most beautiful part of the planet, beauty can also be found in other areas, and for other reasons.
5. I can survive without my motorcycle.
6. I can survive without being 10 minutes from Wal-Mart.
7. It's possible to have authentic relationships with people, even if you'll only know them for a few months.
8. Hard water sucks.
Things I'll miss when I leave:
1. Overhearing conversations in the grocery store that are meaningful and deep.
2. The simplicity of life that forces me to slow down and take a breath.
3. The friends I made here, almost in spite of myself.
4. Watching trucks travel down long dirt roads, leaving a trail of dust behind them.
5. Driving through a field, and not feeling guilty about it.
6. Getting a friendly greeting from perfect strangers as we walk through town.
Reasons why I'll be glad to go home:
1. No snow in April.
2. Humidity.
3. My motorcycle.
4. Not having to drive for an hour to find a grocery store other than IGA.
5. Customer service.
6. Water that doesn't leave you feeling more dirty after you shower than before.
7. Finally feeling at home in church again.
8. Having my degree.
This academic year has been one of the most challenging and most eye-opening of my life. What I've learned in my own studies has been equally matched by what we've learned as a family. Although I can quantify the things I've learned as a student, I can't quantify those life lessons quite so well. But what this experience has taught us as a family most of all is that it is possible to do things that seem difficult at first, if God is in them.
When the wife first pitched the idea of moving to Three Hills to finish my degree back in August, I initially wrote it off as silly. The first things that came to mind were reasons why we couldn't do it--why we couldn't leave our townhouse, why we couldn't leave our families behind, why we couldn't just up and move, why it was too short notice. Think up an excuse, and I probably gave it. Yet there was something that made all of those objections fall away, and what was left was a simple question: will you go? We had given God a challenge, almost dared Him to open up a way for us to go, and He did. Now it was up to us.
Before we came out here, I was programmed to failure. I felt like I was no good. I had lost a pretty promising ministry job under dubious circumstances, which hurt more than I wanted to admit, I didn't have my degree, I didn't have any job prospects at all--I was floundering. And I was taking my family with me. But in this year, God has changed my heart to the point where I feel like I'm a totally different person now than when I left. My attitude has changed, my behaviour has changed, my outlook on life has changed. I've grown substantially as a person in all my spheres of responsibility: husband, father, son, man of God. And I'm better off for it.
When we drive out of town on Monday, I hope we don't leave everything we've learned back here. That, I suppose, is one of the reasons for even doing this blog. As I consider everything we've been through and how I've chronicled it, I realize that this blog can serve as a beacon to me to remind me of the journey, and to bring back to my mind the lessons I've learned, we've learned as a family. No life experience is without its use. Although you sometimes have to look a little bit harder for that use, it's always there. This, too, has been useful. And we don't regret it at all, as much as I've complained about the weather.
And that, my friends, is the conclusion of this chapter of the story. Grad weekend now officially begins, and when we drive away on Monday, I will have the thing I've long yearned-after. I'll also have so much more.
Thanks for being a part of this journey with me. I've appreciated your interaction and continued readership. I hope that a week without the blog won't make you forget about it. I have plans for its future, and those plans will be revealed on May 7. I hope to see you then.
4.27.2007
4.26.2007
Thursday, April 26, 2007
I was right. Turns out that I had, in fact, studied adequately for the test this morning. I admit to a brief moment of panic when I walked in and heard that the test was 120 multiple-choice questions, but they were all good questions--no tricks, no underhanded behaviour. Those who studied did well; those who didn't fared less well.
I managed to finish the test in about 25 minutes (told you I knew my stuff), and was the first one done. Although that gives me some personal sense of accomplishment, it also frightens me a little. Some of the people near me were only on question 95 when I handed mine in, which made me think that I had done something horribly wrong. But I stuck with it and gave it up. No, I didn't re-read all my answers; there were 120 questions.
Later, I talked to one of the guys in my class who happened to stroll past the house with his daughter. After our usual pleasantries--by which I mean him slagging me for being a Canucks fan, which makes no sense being that he's a Flames fan, but he's much bigger than me, so I tend to keep my comments to myself--I asked him how he found the test. He, too, thought it was fairly easy. Whew.
Having taken many a multiple-choice test in my life, I am by now a grizzled veteran of that particular testing methodology. Skim the test first to see what you're dealing with, go through it, tacking the easy questions first, and then come back to the hard questions later. On this particular test, though, I managed to do 116 questions on the first go-around. I wish they all could be that way. I'm not saying that I necessarily got them correct, but I at least had an educated guess.
And just in case you're keeping track, yes I'm finished, and no, I don't feel any different.
That was the morning. Well, at least the first 30 minutes of the morning. Walked both ways in the beautiful spring morning; feels like about February back home, but it's nice. The sun comes up really early on the prairies (and goes down really late), so by the time 8:35 rolled around, the sun was quite high. Crisp, dewy, everything you'd expect out of a spring morning. The kind of day that makes me think I'll miss this place when we leave.
When I got home, we began the process of packing the boy into the car for the Calgary odyssey (good thing I have a built-in spell checker; I never know how to spell that word). Trundled on down and hit the Telus World of Science, which could also be called the Telus World of Shrieking Children and Migraine Headaches, or maybe the Telus World of Overstimulation, but I digress. It's a fun little place. Has nothing on Science World back in Vancouver, but it's good. There wasn't much for toddlers to do, but we found enough places to keep the boy occupied for quite some time.
The cool thing about the science centre is that there are science facts all over the place, including the washrooms. In fact, I learned more in my two trips than I learned in the rest of the day. All the facts are washroom-related, as you'd expect. For example, did you know that the substance that gathers in the corner of your eye when you sleep (sometimes called, "sleep") doesn't have a name? Really, it's true. I also learned that by the time you turn 70, you will have consumed a pile of food the size of an elephant and pooped a pile the size of a car. Not sure what kind of car, nor if the measurement is weight or rough dimensions, but interesting nonetheless.
Of course, no public attraction would be complete without over-priced foodstuffs. We managed to do pretty well at the "cafe," mostly because we brought along a bunch of stuff. Two orders of flaccid fries and a delicious scone: $5.50. Considering the "sandwiches" were also $5.50 apiece, we did well.
So we spent two hours nerding it up, and then managed to navigate our way over to wife's cousin's house to pick up something. I was pretty proud of my Calgary navigating skills, let me tell you. The place is so sprawling that it takes quite some time once you actually enter the city to get where you're going. It only takes us an hour to get to the city limits from here, but you need to add on at least another 30 minutes to get to where you're going. The same could be true of any city, though; country life has spoiled me.
On the way home, we passed a town we've passed innumerable times before, but isn't it funny how sometimes you notice things for the first time. Each city in this area has a fancy wooden sign with the name of the town on it, along with a reader-board underneath for important announcements. Spring run-off has evidently affected the nearby towns as well, as both Acme and Linden have a boil water advisory up. When we passed Linden, I was reading the advisory on their board, and noticed their slogan that I hadn't seen before: "Rural industrial capital of Alberta." That's quite the boast there, Linden--can you back it up?
It reminds me of that Corner Gas episode where the folk of Dog River decided build a large something in their town to attract tourists, similar to the giant Ukrainian egg in Vegreville, Alberta, or the giant statue of Paul Bunyon and his blue ox, Babe in every other small town. Slogans seem to be the same way: you just have to have one. It doesn't matter what factoid you grab, it can sound impressive when engraved on a sign for passers-by to gawk at. What's Three Hills' slogan? I don't know. I've never actually looked at the sign.
Some others from around here...
Irricana: "Open the Gateway to the country." This town takes the imperative form of slogan, as opposed to the boasting form. Whereas Linden's slogan tells you an interesting fact, Irricana's commands obedience.
Beiseker: "Crossroads to the Future." Not sure what motif they're going with there, exactly. Perhaps "hopeful longing." A crossroads implies some sort of watershed moment; although the past and future do present an interesting juxtaposition, I'm not sure they're getting their point across. But what do you expect form a town whose mascot is a skunk named, "Squirt"?
Torrington: "Home of the World-Famous Gopher Hole Museum." Not sure I need to make any kind of comment at all, actually.
Some towns don't bother with slogans at all. Trochu (just up the road from us--that could be a slogan all on its own), for example, even though it has a slick website, does not have a town slogan. Where are your priorities? Another is Acme. Although I would consider, "Featured in Cartoons since 1948," it seems too obvious.
By the way, Three Hills' slogan is, "For a Brighter Future." Again, not sure what, exactly, they're basing that on, but it sounds optimistic. And communist.
Okay, time to take a break: the second period just started. Didn't like the last half of the first one, but I'm trying a new optimistic outlook. I'd keep going, but my computer interferes with my rabbit ear reception, so I can't.
Later. Could this series be any different than the last one? No wonder it looks like we're trying to figure out how to skate all over again. This Ducks team is going to be hard to beat, but beat them we will. They have some fast skaters, and they've burned us several times because of it. We look pretty bad tonight, but it's only game one--lots of series left.
Where was I before I got sidetracked with slogans? Oh right, Calgary. Before we even left the city, we stopped at one of the many Superstores in the area and picked up some things. It's always interesting going into another location of the store you most often go to. Things are somehow familiar, and yet different. All the same things are on the shelves, and yet the shelves are organized differently. It's just enough to throw you off. But we managed.
While in the store, we wandered past the deli section, which has a pleasant selection of freshly-made items. Wife got sidetracked by a salad roll--she's been trying to find one the entire time we've been here, but this is the land of burgers and steak; salad rolls are not on the menu. Anyway, she found one. Sitting beside the sushi. I couldn't help myself--I had to have a California Roll. For store-bought, it wasn't bad. But it's nothing like the place back home. Which we're going to the minute we roll into town.
Anyway, got home, had some time outside with the boy, and ate dinner. For some mysterious reason, the bonfire mentioned in yesterday's posting did not happen, but that's okay--we have a lot of stuff to pack. Built some boxes after dinner before bath and bedtime, and managed to get some non-essentials packed away. Like winter clothes. Am I being optimistic? I hope not.
In other news. I got an email invitation today from the distance ed department, inviting me to a reception for strictly distance ed students (of which I am still one). There was a line in there about how the president of the college will "do his best" to be there and appear in some photos. Oh well, if his excellency deems it fit to come to our lowly reception, we would be honoured. Seriously. He'll try? How hard will he try, exactly? What they need to say is, "Since the distance education department is such a small arm of our school, nobody, including the president, gives a rip about you suckers." At least it would be honest.
Oh, and I've got an update on our broken door handle situation, first reported here last night. I got the okay from our landlords to fix the handle, after being thoroughly interrogated as to the cause of the breakage. After defending myself against an implication that perhaps I broke the handle off by hanging off of it whilst closing the door, I think I proved my case. Because it's really a good idea to be stupid and break something in your last week. But hey, it gives me something to do tomorrow to keep me out of my wife's hair, so that's a positive thing.
And so, we conclude. This, friends, is the second-last posting to this blog. As I mentioned last week, I do plan on maintaining the blog (same address, different name) when we get back, but I haven't really fleshed that out yet. For now, tomorrow's post will be the last for a while, and so I'm sure the nostalgia level will be high. Right now, however, the third period has begun, and I am off to watch the exciting conclusion of this game.
See you tomorrow.
I managed to finish the test in about 25 minutes (told you I knew my stuff), and was the first one done. Although that gives me some personal sense of accomplishment, it also frightens me a little. Some of the people near me were only on question 95 when I handed mine in, which made me think that I had done something horribly wrong. But I stuck with it and gave it up. No, I didn't re-read all my answers; there were 120 questions.
Later, I talked to one of the guys in my class who happened to stroll past the house with his daughter. After our usual pleasantries--by which I mean him slagging me for being a Canucks fan, which makes no sense being that he's a Flames fan, but he's much bigger than me, so I tend to keep my comments to myself--I asked him how he found the test. He, too, thought it was fairly easy. Whew.
Having taken many a multiple-choice test in my life, I am by now a grizzled veteran of that particular testing methodology. Skim the test first to see what you're dealing with, go through it, tacking the easy questions first, and then come back to the hard questions later. On this particular test, though, I managed to do 116 questions on the first go-around. I wish they all could be that way. I'm not saying that I necessarily got them correct, but I at least had an educated guess.
And just in case you're keeping track, yes I'm finished, and no, I don't feel any different.
That was the morning. Well, at least the first 30 minutes of the morning. Walked both ways in the beautiful spring morning; feels like about February back home, but it's nice. The sun comes up really early on the prairies (and goes down really late), so by the time 8:35 rolled around, the sun was quite high. Crisp, dewy, everything you'd expect out of a spring morning. The kind of day that makes me think I'll miss this place when we leave.
When I got home, we began the process of packing the boy into the car for the Calgary odyssey (good thing I have a built-in spell checker; I never know how to spell that word). Trundled on down and hit the Telus World of Science, which could also be called the Telus World of Shrieking Children and Migraine Headaches, or maybe the Telus World of Overstimulation, but I digress. It's a fun little place. Has nothing on Science World back in Vancouver, but it's good. There wasn't much for toddlers to do, but we found enough places to keep the boy occupied for quite some time.
The cool thing about the science centre is that there are science facts all over the place, including the washrooms. In fact, I learned more in my two trips than I learned in the rest of the day. All the facts are washroom-related, as you'd expect. For example, did you know that the substance that gathers in the corner of your eye when you sleep (sometimes called, "sleep") doesn't have a name? Really, it's true. I also learned that by the time you turn 70, you will have consumed a pile of food the size of an elephant and pooped a pile the size of a car. Not sure what kind of car, nor if the measurement is weight or rough dimensions, but interesting nonetheless.
Of course, no public attraction would be complete without over-priced foodstuffs. We managed to do pretty well at the "cafe," mostly because we brought along a bunch of stuff. Two orders of flaccid fries and a delicious scone: $5.50. Considering the "sandwiches" were also $5.50 apiece, we did well.
So we spent two hours nerding it up, and then managed to navigate our way over to wife's cousin's house to pick up something. I was pretty proud of my Calgary navigating skills, let me tell you. The place is so sprawling that it takes quite some time once you actually enter the city to get where you're going. It only takes us an hour to get to the city limits from here, but you need to add on at least another 30 minutes to get to where you're going. The same could be true of any city, though; country life has spoiled me.
On the way home, we passed a town we've passed innumerable times before, but isn't it funny how sometimes you notice things for the first time. Each city in this area has a fancy wooden sign with the name of the town on it, along with a reader-board underneath for important announcements. Spring run-off has evidently affected the nearby towns as well, as both Acme and Linden have a boil water advisory up. When we passed Linden, I was reading the advisory on their board, and noticed their slogan that I hadn't seen before: "Rural industrial capital of Alberta." That's quite the boast there, Linden--can you back it up?
It reminds me of that Corner Gas episode where the folk of Dog River decided build a large something in their town to attract tourists, similar to the giant Ukrainian egg in Vegreville, Alberta, or the giant statue of Paul Bunyon and his blue ox, Babe in every other small town. Slogans seem to be the same way: you just have to have one. It doesn't matter what factoid you grab, it can sound impressive when engraved on a sign for passers-by to gawk at. What's Three Hills' slogan? I don't know. I've never actually looked at the sign.
Some others from around here...
Irricana: "Open the Gateway to the country." This town takes the imperative form of slogan, as opposed to the boasting form. Whereas Linden's slogan tells you an interesting fact, Irricana's commands obedience.
Beiseker: "Crossroads to the Future." Not sure what motif they're going with there, exactly. Perhaps "hopeful longing." A crossroads implies some sort of watershed moment; although the past and future do present an interesting juxtaposition, I'm not sure they're getting their point across. But what do you expect form a town whose mascot is a skunk named, "Squirt"?
Torrington: "Home of the World-Famous Gopher Hole Museum." Not sure I need to make any kind of comment at all, actually.
Some towns don't bother with slogans at all. Trochu (just up the road from us--that could be a slogan all on its own), for example, even though it has a slick website, does not have a town slogan. Where are your priorities? Another is Acme. Although I would consider, "Featured in Cartoons since 1948," it seems too obvious.
By the way, Three Hills' slogan is, "For a Brighter Future." Again, not sure what, exactly, they're basing that on, but it sounds optimistic. And communist.
Okay, time to take a break: the second period just started. Didn't like the last half of the first one, but I'm trying a new optimistic outlook. I'd keep going, but my computer interferes with my rabbit ear reception, so I can't.
Later. Could this series be any different than the last one? No wonder it looks like we're trying to figure out how to skate all over again. This Ducks team is going to be hard to beat, but beat them we will. They have some fast skaters, and they've burned us several times because of it. We look pretty bad tonight, but it's only game one--lots of series left.
Where was I before I got sidetracked with slogans? Oh right, Calgary. Before we even left the city, we stopped at one of the many Superstores in the area and picked up some things. It's always interesting going into another location of the store you most often go to. Things are somehow familiar, and yet different. All the same things are on the shelves, and yet the shelves are organized differently. It's just enough to throw you off. But we managed.
While in the store, we wandered past the deli section, which has a pleasant selection of freshly-made items. Wife got sidetracked by a salad roll--she's been trying to find one the entire time we've been here, but this is the land of burgers and steak; salad rolls are not on the menu. Anyway, she found one. Sitting beside the sushi. I couldn't help myself--I had to have a California Roll. For store-bought, it wasn't bad. But it's nothing like the place back home. Which we're going to the minute we roll into town.
Anyway, got home, had some time outside with the boy, and ate dinner. For some mysterious reason, the bonfire mentioned in yesterday's posting did not happen, but that's okay--we have a lot of stuff to pack. Built some boxes after dinner before bath and bedtime, and managed to get some non-essentials packed away. Like winter clothes. Am I being optimistic? I hope not.
In other news. I got an email invitation today from the distance ed department, inviting me to a reception for strictly distance ed students (of which I am still one). There was a line in there about how the president of the college will "do his best" to be there and appear in some photos. Oh well, if his excellency deems it fit to come to our lowly reception, we would be honoured. Seriously. He'll try? How hard will he try, exactly? What they need to say is, "Since the distance education department is such a small arm of our school, nobody, including the president, gives a rip about you suckers." At least it would be honest.
Oh, and I've got an update on our broken door handle situation, first reported here last night. I got the okay from our landlords to fix the handle, after being thoroughly interrogated as to the cause of the breakage. After defending myself against an implication that perhaps I broke the handle off by hanging off of it whilst closing the door, I think I proved my case. Because it's really a good idea to be stupid and break something in your last week. But hey, it gives me something to do tomorrow to keep me out of my wife's hair, so that's a positive thing.
And so, we conclude. This, friends, is the second-last posting to this blog. As I mentioned last week, I do plan on maintaining the blog (same address, different name) when we get back, but I haven't really fleshed that out yet. For now, tomorrow's post will be the last for a while, and so I'm sure the nostalgia level will be high. Right now, however, the third period has begun, and I am off to watch the exciting conclusion of this game.
See you tomorrow.
4.25.2007
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
There comes a point in the course of studying for any exam wherein one finds that one is fully saturated with knowledge and should proceed no further, lest he disrupt the delicate balance within his brain. I am at that point now. I could study more; I could memorize every little fact on the class handouts (each class in this course came complete with a fill-in-the-blanks handout) and be completely prepared. But that would make me crazy. Crazier.
The midterm in this course, although not daunting, threw me off somewhat. The prof asked all sorts of really obscure things from the notes, and I wasn't really ready for them. This time, I know that there will be questions like that, which makes me want to study all the obscure details. But then I'll have too many facts in my head and I'll probably end up confusing them. It's a tough line.
Suffice it to say that I know enough to do well, and I'm comfortable with knowing that getting 100% is nigh impossible (am I a perfectionist? You bet). Thus I will shoot for the A and be happy with the result.
Unfortunately, the test is at 8:00 tomorrow morning. I'm a big fan of the morning exam; I process things so much slower in the afternoon, and, as you know from previous conversations on this very blog, I'm a get-things-over-with-right-away kind of guy anyway. Waiting until the afternoon just makes me pace the floor and generally be annoying. No, git 'er done, as they say.
After the exam, my undergraduate studies officially come to an end. That's pretty neat. I've been in this mode for this whole week, though, so I think that I probably won't feel any different. It's like being asked on the day of your birthday if you feel any different (funny, but I never do). Things take time to set in and become reality, and I feel that this accomplishment may take a few weeks to actually be enjoyed.
Other than preparing for a major milestone, the day was particularly ordinary. One thing we're going to miss about being here is the pace of life. An ordinary day like today feels free and easy in a town like this; there are no pressures bearing down on you, nothing constantly nagging at you to be done, no TV to watch, no distractions to pull you away from simply enjoying life. I like that. We've grown really used to it. And now it's time to go.
But it's all a state of mind, isn't it? Don't you know someone who hasn't really bought into this whole busyness mentality that we love and cherish? Don't they seem more centred somehow (note to self: Firefox doesn't like Canadian spelling)? I think it's all about the choices you make. For example, I've chosen this semester to be more optimistic in my outlook on life. I had to consciously make the decision, and it's been good for me (although you, the blog-consuming public, may not have seen it, but my wife has). In the same way, when we go back home, we're going to have to make the conscious decision to relax and not be satisfied with the pace the world is throwing at us. Sometimes you have to capitulate, but I think those times happen less than we think they do. It'll be interesting to see how it goes.
Anyway. This morning the wife went off to one of her mom's groups, but left the boy with me. This is the group where the kids play in the nursery while the moms chat (don't worry--it's supervised play), but it hasn't really worked out that way this semester due to the boy's lack of affinity for the nursery setting (and who can blame him, really?). So she went by herself today, and experienced what she'd been missing for the most part. As for us boys, well, it was a fight to get the little one to have a nap today--he had a bit of a rough night last night with his teeth, and so he was already tired when he woke up this morning, which led to him being over-tired by the time the morning nap rolled around--but when he did, he was out. He slept for almost two hours, which allowed me to get copious studying done (which is why I feel okay not doing it now).
After lunch, it was time to go for our daily constitutional. Went off to the college to run a couple errands and check the mail, and sat on a blanket on the grass for a while. It's quite the funny juxtaposition: here we are in our shorts and T-shirts, sitting on the grass beside stubborn piles of snow that haven't quite gotten the "it's-time-to-melt" memo. And with it being warm, the bugs are starting to come out. Let me just say that I think we're getting out of town right on time.
And yes, it was another brilliant day today, weather-wise. 18 degrees for an extended stretch this afternoon, and it's still 11 now (it's 9:30 as I'm typing this). Wonderful. I even got a bit of a sunburn from yesterday's walk, which was as surprising as the Canucks' win last night.
Dinner tonight was hosted by our caretaker and his wife. Quite a nice older couple, who like to have people into their home for dinner. They even required a guest book signing before we left.
You know, there's something about other peoples' guest books that fascinates me. Looking through it and reading the names always brings up a quick picture of that person, and reading it has the same effect as going through an old high school yearbook. It's interesting. The problem is that I'm never sure what proper guest book etiquette is, and as I was delving through the pages, I looked up to see my host giving me a certain look that seemed like I had just done the equivalent of putting my feet up on the table in the Middle East. Turns out it was okay, and he just had indigestion (okay, I'm making that last part up), but for a minute, I wasn't sure if he was going to challenge me to a duel or what. Pistols or swords? Would've been interesting.
It's also interesting when you give someone a dietary restriction, and they seem to not take it as seriously as they should. For example, wife and son (I just explained to my wife, and now I will explain to you, that when I use those terms I'm not trying to be a chauvinist, I'm just trying to avoid first names. Although I have a good idea of who's reading this blog on a regular basis through my site meter, I don't necessarily think divulging first names on a regular basis is necessarily a good idea--a methodology that's proven completely inconsistent by the fact that my blog for my son's photos is titled after his whole name, but whatever; don't catch me on the inconsistencies of my positions)...never mind. That ellipsis got so long that I'm going to have to start that sentence over.
So anyway, wife and son have a sensitivity to wheat. It's not a life-and-death allergy in the sense that they won't drop dead beside you if they eat wheat, but it's painful enough that we just try to avoid it altogether. Unfortunately, not everyone is trained as we are to read ingredient labels with a microscope, and they simply assume that things are okay. Usually, they are wrong.
For example, did you know that almost every Campbell's soup has flour in it? It's true; even things you wouldn't suspect, like tomato soup, has flour. The meal tonight was a stroganoff--which sounds like a Finnish expletive--and she made it with cream of mushroom soup. And then, she thickened it with flour. To her credit, she realized just after she put the flour in that this was a bad idea, and tried to scoop it out. Unfortunately, flour has different ideas; it does not sit idly and let itself be scooped.
Fortunately, a minimum amount of main course was consumed, and although things got pretty uncomfortable at one point, it looks like we're generally in the clear now.
There should be a sign posted on my computer: editor on board. Wife has taken to sitting beside me (I'm working on the laptop) and knitting, all the while reading over my shoulder as I type. Doesn't that sound like a small-town stereotype? Wife sitting beside husband, knitting. Anyway. She just made me take out a paragraph. It's like having fargin' Jiminy Cricket sitting here.
Man, what is it tonight? The sun comes out, and everyone in Three Hills goes nuts. Just a few minutes ago, a large gang of unruly teens ran by, hooting and hollering as teens are wont to do. Just now, some dude pulled up outside our house with his radio blasting and windows unrolled (he was going to our neighbours' place, but had to park directly outside our house due to the fact that there is already a small armada of cars outside the neighbours' place). Seriously people, sleeping infant inside. He's already woken up twice and chirped because of your loud disruptions. Gosh. I'm so old.
Now, there's some dude either racing around on his very loud racing motorcycle. That, or someone is using a chainsaw in the dark. Maybe they're carving those little chairs. Now that would be a noble pursuit, as long as they drop one off over here. Oh wait, I think it's probably some guy ripping around on his ATV. It's loud and really annoying, whatever it is.
After we got back from dinner, the neighbours were having a little marshmallow and smokie roast, so I joined in for a bit. Had a really awkward moment when I went outside though--I used the side door of the house, the one we never use, and as I pulled it shut behind me, the doorknob broke off right in my hands. I've never had that happen before. And what great timing, eh? A week before we leave, and I'm breaking things. Oh well, at least we didn't lock ourselves out of the house again. As Bullwinkle would say, "Ooh, don't know my own strength." The link, by the way, is to Wikipedia. At the top of the article, two warnings are given about how the sources aren't referenced and the lists are "unencyclopedic," whatever that means (Firefox doesn't think it's a word). You know it's bad when even Wikipedia thinks your entry isn't up to snuff.
With that, the day concludes, and so does this blog entry. Tomorrow is a busy day; after the exam, we're going to head into Calgary for one more stab at the city before we go. The plan is to hit the science centre, which should be fun. Quick Superstore stop on the way home, and then a birthday bonfire for one of the student families. And, of course, round two begins.
I'll have a full update on the test and all the other crazy (mis)adventures tomorrow. See you then.
The midterm in this course, although not daunting, threw me off somewhat. The prof asked all sorts of really obscure things from the notes, and I wasn't really ready for them. This time, I know that there will be questions like that, which makes me want to study all the obscure details. But then I'll have too many facts in my head and I'll probably end up confusing them. It's a tough line.
Suffice it to say that I know enough to do well, and I'm comfortable with knowing that getting 100% is nigh impossible (am I a perfectionist? You bet). Thus I will shoot for the A and be happy with the result.
Unfortunately, the test is at 8:00 tomorrow morning. I'm a big fan of the morning exam; I process things so much slower in the afternoon, and, as you know from previous conversations on this very blog, I'm a get-things-over-with-right-away kind of guy anyway. Waiting until the afternoon just makes me pace the floor and generally be annoying. No, git 'er done, as they say.
After the exam, my undergraduate studies officially come to an end. That's pretty neat. I've been in this mode for this whole week, though, so I think that I probably won't feel any different. It's like being asked on the day of your birthday if you feel any different (funny, but I never do). Things take time to set in and become reality, and I feel that this accomplishment may take a few weeks to actually be enjoyed.
Other than preparing for a major milestone, the day was particularly ordinary. One thing we're going to miss about being here is the pace of life. An ordinary day like today feels free and easy in a town like this; there are no pressures bearing down on you, nothing constantly nagging at you to be done, no TV to watch, no distractions to pull you away from simply enjoying life. I like that. We've grown really used to it. And now it's time to go.
But it's all a state of mind, isn't it? Don't you know someone who hasn't really bought into this whole busyness mentality that we love and cherish? Don't they seem more centred somehow (note to self: Firefox doesn't like Canadian spelling)? I think it's all about the choices you make. For example, I've chosen this semester to be more optimistic in my outlook on life. I had to consciously make the decision, and it's been good for me (although you, the blog-consuming public, may not have seen it, but my wife has). In the same way, when we go back home, we're going to have to make the conscious decision to relax and not be satisfied with the pace the world is throwing at us. Sometimes you have to capitulate, but I think those times happen less than we think they do. It'll be interesting to see how it goes.
Anyway. This morning the wife went off to one of her mom's groups, but left the boy with me. This is the group where the kids play in the nursery while the moms chat (don't worry--it's supervised play), but it hasn't really worked out that way this semester due to the boy's lack of affinity for the nursery setting (and who can blame him, really?). So she went by herself today, and experienced what she'd been missing for the most part. As for us boys, well, it was a fight to get the little one to have a nap today--he had a bit of a rough night last night with his teeth, and so he was already tired when he woke up this morning, which led to him being over-tired by the time the morning nap rolled around--but when he did, he was out. He slept for almost two hours, which allowed me to get copious studying done (which is why I feel okay not doing it now).
After lunch, it was time to go for our daily constitutional. Went off to the college to run a couple errands and check the mail, and sat on a blanket on the grass for a while. It's quite the funny juxtaposition: here we are in our shorts and T-shirts, sitting on the grass beside stubborn piles of snow that haven't quite gotten the "it's-time-to-melt" memo. And with it being warm, the bugs are starting to come out. Let me just say that I think we're getting out of town right on time.
And yes, it was another brilliant day today, weather-wise. 18 degrees for an extended stretch this afternoon, and it's still 11 now (it's 9:30 as I'm typing this). Wonderful. I even got a bit of a sunburn from yesterday's walk, which was as surprising as the Canucks' win last night.
Dinner tonight was hosted by our caretaker and his wife. Quite a nice older couple, who like to have people into their home for dinner. They even required a guest book signing before we left.
You know, there's something about other peoples' guest books that fascinates me. Looking through it and reading the names always brings up a quick picture of that person, and reading it has the same effect as going through an old high school yearbook. It's interesting. The problem is that I'm never sure what proper guest book etiquette is, and as I was delving through the pages, I looked up to see my host giving me a certain look that seemed like I had just done the equivalent of putting my feet up on the table in the Middle East. Turns out it was okay, and he just had indigestion (okay, I'm making that last part up), but for a minute, I wasn't sure if he was going to challenge me to a duel or what. Pistols or swords? Would've been interesting.
It's also interesting when you give someone a dietary restriction, and they seem to not take it as seriously as they should. For example, wife and son (I just explained to my wife, and now I will explain to you, that when I use those terms I'm not trying to be a chauvinist, I'm just trying to avoid first names. Although I have a good idea of who's reading this blog on a regular basis through my site meter, I don't necessarily think divulging first names on a regular basis is necessarily a good idea--a methodology that's proven completely inconsistent by the fact that my blog for my son's photos is titled after his whole name, but whatever; don't catch me on the inconsistencies of my positions)...never mind. That ellipsis got so long that I'm going to have to start that sentence over.
So anyway, wife and son have a sensitivity to wheat. It's not a life-and-death allergy in the sense that they won't drop dead beside you if they eat wheat, but it's painful enough that we just try to avoid it altogether. Unfortunately, not everyone is trained as we are to read ingredient labels with a microscope, and they simply assume that things are okay. Usually, they are wrong.
For example, did you know that almost every Campbell's soup has flour in it? It's true; even things you wouldn't suspect, like tomato soup, has flour. The meal tonight was a stroganoff--which sounds like a Finnish expletive--and she made it with cream of mushroom soup. And then, she thickened it with flour. To her credit, she realized just after she put the flour in that this was a bad idea, and tried to scoop it out. Unfortunately, flour has different ideas; it does not sit idly and let itself be scooped.
Fortunately, a minimum amount of main course was consumed, and although things got pretty uncomfortable at one point, it looks like we're generally in the clear now.
There should be a sign posted on my computer: editor on board. Wife has taken to sitting beside me (I'm working on the laptop) and knitting, all the while reading over my shoulder as I type. Doesn't that sound like a small-town stereotype? Wife sitting beside husband, knitting. Anyway. She just made me take out a paragraph. It's like having fargin' Jiminy Cricket sitting here.
Man, what is it tonight? The sun comes out, and everyone in Three Hills goes nuts. Just a few minutes ago, a large gang of unruly teens ran by, hooting and hollering as teens are wont to do. Just now, some dude pulled up outside our house with his radio blasting and windows unrolled (he was going to our neighbours' place, but had to park directly outside our house due to the fact that there is already a small armada of cars outside the neighbours' place). Seriously people, sleeping infant inside. He's already woken up twice and chirped because of your loud disruptions. Gosh. I'm so old.
Now, there's some dude either racing around on his very loud racing motorcycle. That, or someone is using a chainsaw in the dark. Maybe they're carving those little chairs. Now that would be a noble pursuit, as long as they drop one off over here. Oh wait, I think it's probably some guy ripping around on his ATV. It's loud and really annoying, whatever it is.
After we got back from dinner, the neighbours were having a little marshmallow and smokie roast, so I joined in for a bit. Had a really awkward moment when I went outside though--I used the side door of the house, the one we never use, and as I pulled it shut behind me, the doorknob broke off right in my hands. I've never had that happen before. And what great timing, eh? A week before we leave, and I'm breaking things. Oh well, at least we didn't lock ourselves out of the house again. As Bullwinkle would say, "Ooh, don't know my own strength." The link, by the way, is to Wikipedia. At the top of the article, two warnings are given about how the sources aren't referenced and the lists are "unencyclopedic," whatever that means (Firefox doesn't think it's a word). You know it's bad when even Wikipedia thinks your entry isn't up to snuff.
With that, the day concludes, and so does this blog entry. Tomorrow is a busy day; after the exam, we're going to head into Calgary for one more stab at the city before we go. The plan is to hit the science centre, which should be fun. Quick Superstore stop on the way home, and then a birthday bonfire for one of the student families. And, of course, round two begins.
I'll have a full update on the test and all the other crazy (mis)adventures tomorrow. See you then.
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