Making It Up As I Go Along #300

MONDAY...
— Downtown for a little shopping with mom and dad. Over to Wince’s and family for Christmas Eve lunch. Wayne and Sylvia come for a visit in the evening.

TUESDAY...
— Merry Christmas.
— Fine day, presents in the AM with mom and dad. Wince, his family, Wayne and Sylvia all come for supper. Rick and his family pop by for a visit after we eat. Too stuffed... way too stuffed.
— Watch Scrooge to end the night. The 1951 version with Alastair Sim.

WEDNESDAY...
— Some visiting time with Jim, Kristann, Sam and Jen today. A few hours out to Jim’s place.
— Boxing Day Feast at the parent’s place. The Riggs family, Lafosse family, Wayne and Sylvia all come to chow down. Spend some time hanging with Geoff, Rob, and Dave.
— Going blind due to food running up from my stomach, into my sinus cavity, and pressing against my optic nerves. Soon I’ll be bleeding turkey gravy.

THURSDAY...
— More eating to the point of explosion. Lunch with Craig at the Ship Inn is good. It’s not too busy, we eat good fish and chips, and hang out chatting for a couple of hours.
— Off to supper with mom, dad, Wayne and Sylvia tonight. To the Keg. It’s really good but by the end my stomach causes me to take a barrel type shape. It takes minutes to bend over and tie my boots! No food tomorrow!

FRIDAY...
— So there is food today... even though I said I wouldn’t. But still not a lot. A very lazy day though. There was some visiting and shopping planned but a trip home wouldn’t be complete without a storm. All the stores and most businesses are closed today with lots of snow, freezing rain and wind all day.
— Dave (“Fish”) pops by for an evening visit... other than that it’s movies, computer time, and general laziness.

SATURDAY...
— A run around day. Shopping, a trip to Signal Hill, lunch with mom and dad at Bidgoods (some traditional Newfoundland food to be had there).
— Bev visits this evening. See Jim and Kristann for a few minutes as well. Pack and watch some hockey tonight.

SUNDAY...
— Up early. 3:30 NF time is when I woke up and didn’t get back to sleep. Out of bed at 4:30... stormy day for the airport. There for 5:00. In security and ready to go at 6:00 (after a quick sit down with mom and dad... and Del). Plane is supposed to leave at 6:30. We board the plane at about 7:40. Sit in the plane for a while... then go to de-ice... then sit some more for the runway to get cleared. Take off for Ottawa at around 9:15.
— Sheila picks me up and we do lunch. The least I could do for a lift. Laundry, unpacking and some rest follow.


300
From April 7, 2002 to December 31, 2007... that’s how long it takes to write 300 weekly updates.

So what to do for number 300? At 100 (Feb 8, 2004) I did a retrospective. I basically spoke of how I went about doing my weekly updates... the thought process behind them... and some memorable stories and ideas.

Number 200 (Jan. 8, 2006) had me looking back at people and stereotypes... while also looking back at my years of writing.

And at both #100 and #200 I mentioned how I wasn’t sure what to write about. It seems milestone updates have been reflective and unclear in purpose for me.

So for #300, written here on New Years Eve 2007... I’ll change the plan. For the rest of this story will have purpose and will not be retrospective in nature (even though New Years Eve cries out for a look back).

No, on this day I write about... Food!

My trips home for Christmas will no longer be able to continue. I could speak of how the travel at this time of year tires me out. I could speak of unreliable airlines that leave you stranded for days on end in a city that is not of your choosing. And I could speak of the cost of it all.

But a major problem with my Christmas trips home is the eating. It has taken on binge like qualities. On more than one occasion, it has put me in mind of Monty Python’s Meaning of Life... where a waiter serves a massively fat man meal after meal... the fat man vomits all over the restaurant... and, with the coaxing that “it’s just a wafer thin after dinner mint” eats that last morsel which creates a fat man explosion never seen in cinematic history, before or after.

Each of the last four years, when I travel home for Christmas, I become that Monty Python fat man!

This year saw a three day eatfest that left me waddling and groaning. Big lunches of food from the night before. Followed by afternoon snacking on nuts, licorice and chocolate... often washed down with a glass of eggnog. And the evening would bring another round of turkey, or chilli, or ham, or roast with potatoes and gravy and dressing. And the dessert... always the dessert.

On the worst day this year, I had a lunch planned with my friend, Craig... followed by a supper with the family. I thought how lunch will not be large. I can eat nice and light... maybe a stir fry or a wrap. In the end, that translated into fish ‘n’ chips. Even then, I thought maybe the fish would be small and the fries not so plentiful. But the fish was enormous and battered while the fries overflowed the plate.

Washed down with beer, the meal was good, and the time out was fun, but the eating plan was thrown out the window. We left at 3:00 with supper a few hours away... and me stuffed.

So then maybe the cutback could be with supper I thought. Perhaps if lunch goes out of control, I can eat lightly in the evening?

We go to the Keg Steakhouse. You aren’t allowed to eat there without a slab of meat on your plate.

So I plan my attack on the beef with blind optimism. I won’t fill up on the bread! The Keg always throw too much bread at you and it’s a wasted loading of the stomach. Skip the bread. That translates into have one large piece. Plus picking at the dip one of my evil family members decides to order as an appetizer.

Next is the salad. You are lead to believe that salad is your friend when it comes to food. Well not when they bring you a bucket of it! The Keg throws it down at me in a spit-in-your-eye fashion. Didn’t get caught on the bread trap? Here’s your salad... sucker!

So then it’s planning a smaller cut of meat. A sirloin will be smaller I think. Perhaps in length it is... when factoring in thickness (which I did not) out the window flies that theory.

I’m left with the desperate plan of cutting my food into smaller pieces. Maybe I can fit it all in my stomach by breaking it down into smaller chunks? I’m Homer Simpson in a steak eating contest... I just need Bart there to toss the uneaten morsels back into my mouth after it drops down to my shirt while I moan in zombie like despair.

As meat-in-the-sinus blindness comes on, my aunt Sylvia extends the hell. “We’ll go back to our place for dessert!”

Dessert? I’m ready to crawl into a cave and hibernate for the next four months and she’s talking of adding to my layer of fat!

So it’s off to their house for another round of delightful treats. The Python quote rings loudly in my ears... “...Just an after dinner mint.”

My plan of attack on the sweets? The pre-eating trip to the massage chair. I waddle to Wayne and Sylvia’s Lazyboy massage chair, lean back, and hope the vibrations will shift the food into those few remaining empty cavities deep within my soul.

Cookies are brought out... and slices of icinged fruit cake. And I sample a piece of each with the thought “I won’t be able to do this again for an entire year, I better take advantage of it while I have the chance.” That translates into... you’ve guessed it... “... Just an after dinner mint.”

When the eating finally ends, I shuffle back to the chair for another round of vibration. Consciousness comes and goes... and strange visions... delusions, if you will... dance through my head. I’m as I was as a feverish child of years gone by... when I told my mother that my rapid blinking was a result of the trees which surrounded me... there in my bookbag (even though I was laying in bed the whole time). I can not trust that which leaps before my eyes.

That’s why it takes some time to register when mom suggests our departure. Can I rise up from this shaking chair? Can I maneuver myself towards my boots? Can I even feel my legs?

The tying of the boots takes me close to five minutes. I can not bend down to reach my laces, and breathe, at the same time. So I must break for a few gasps before plunging back into the abyss of lace tying.

It is at times of troublesome shoe lace tying that one knows when one has eaten too much. And it is with fears of a repeat of such instances that makes me feel I should have no more Christmas’s at home with family. It is too much of a gamble. One can only role the dice so many times without the end result being permanent. Perhaps next time, the meat will remain stuck in my sinuses... and the blindness will be permanent.

Delayed post

Cape Spear... all cold and isolated.
Fred's Records. A fine walk down Duckworth Street when this is where you're going.


Seeing how my next update is actually a milestone (#300). I'm in delay mode. I'm just too tired from a long day traveling.... there's nothing I can write other than what I'm writing now.

There will be the update tomorrow though. Work should end early for New Years and I'll be more rested then... until the 31st! I include a pair of pictures to ease the pain...

Making It Up As I Go Along #299

MONDAY...
— Quiet day. I didn’t sleep well last night and am exhausted and still a bit under the weather when I wake... so no work today. Stay home, do some reading up on work while trying to rest up instead.
— Brush off the car and shovel out the space some in the late afternoon. That’s enough to almost kill me... so I guess it says where my endurance is right now with sickness and the like.

TUESDAY...
— Fine enough day. Seem to be over the cold now finally... and do a bit of an evening shift today, working 1:45 to 9:45. It all goes alright.

WEDNESDAY...
— Work is okay. An info session in the morning breaks up the day a bit.
— Drive home is a pain. People around here don’t know what they’re doing when driving in the winter. It takes an hour to get home and we only had a light amount of snow today. Blah.
— Some evening catch up. With some friends. One drops by... another on MSN... and a third on the phone. A social night for a week night.

THURSDAY...
— Work is okay. Have lunch with Shannon, Mark, Leslie, Carole, Michelle, and Trevor. Fairly normal day overall.

FRIDAY...
— Alright work day. Much of the office is empty in the afternoon.
— Meet Karl for supper in the evening.
— I’m now off for Christmas vacation. Back to work a week from Monday.

SATURDAY...
— Travel day. I get up in the morning and do the laundry while watching some TV. Pack in the afternoon and Sheila gets me so we can share a cab to the airport. She’s going to Moncton a half hour before I go to St. John’s. The airport is actually dead... I’m surprised but there no line to check in and none at security either. We chat for a bit while waiting for the planes and then split up when her flight is called. An isle seat means I am thankful for the on demand movies for each seat... I wish I had the window to distract me but oh well.
— A quick time with mom and dad after I land and then they’re off to bed while I watch some TV.


Just a Few Thoughts on Home
Home again home again jiggidy jig. At least one of my grandparents used to say it way back when... and at least one of my parents say it whenever we pull into the driveway of their place in Wedgewood Park. And last night I heard it once again.

For I am home for the holidays. It has actually been the longest I’ve been away from St. John’s. One full year without being back. In fact, last night’s flight in marked the one year anniversary of my getting stuck in Montreal for two days.

Each time I’m home, a few things change. Mom and dad have a new car... and a new stereo. The next door neighbours have a new shed. And I’m sure, when I go out later today, I’ll notice other changes around the city. A new store here, an old building torn down there. Probably another three or four grocery stores scattered a few kilometres away from each other. St. John’s city planning... it’s all about selling off old buildings and parcels of land to the grocery store chains. The chain lucky enough to build the new store will then vacate an old one... and new telemarketing companies will take over... the circle of life goes on.

Needless to say, I find the grocery store issue annoying. Cities can use vacated buildings and parcels of land for so much more... and the city would be enriched and more vibrant because of it. Old Memorial Stadium was a hockey stadium named to honor the war dead. It was in one of the few great recreational belts of the city. A river trail leads to it, allowing people from miles away to walk there without using the roads. A soccer pitch and softball field are right next to the site... and Quidi Vidi Lake at the doorstep of the stadium parking lot. Many a hockey game would be watched there and dad and I would walk along part of the shore of the lake to get to the car afterwards.

So what do you do with this recreational landmark after a new stadium is built? Sell it to Loblaws and convert it into a grocery store of course! People opposed the idea, the city sold it to Loblaws anyway. People remained opposed, and Loblaws built the store anyway. They then closed another of their grocery stores that sat no more than a mile up the road. I’ll drive by it today and see what telemarketing/call centre has moved in. And Memorial Stadium Grocery Store will be one more missed opportunity that I can shake my head at as I pass by.

Another change in the city I noticed came to me as soon as I arrived. St. John’s Airport is quite new. Well, the building got extensively renovated recently anyway. It seems it was only a year or two ago when the final touches were done... and it’s a nice airport. But it already feels way to small for this city. Coming in last night, I came down the escalator to the luggage area without parents there to wave hello. This is because they now keep the family and friends back out of the luggage area. It’s not big enough to hold the welcomers and the arrivers at the same time. So I stood alone for twenty minutes waiting for my bag... and then walked out to my parents as if I had just left customs. We then went on to sit in the parking lot for another good twenty minutes as all the cars were leaving together. Ottawa airport is bigger, with more people parked there for arrivals. But you never wait when you go to leave... you’re on your way. St. John’s, though... is a very congested story. Again, city planning dropped the ball. A newly renovated airport that needs to be renovated once again.

But it’s nice to be back all the same. To look out the back window and see Signal Hill off in the distance, remaining as it always has been. I miss big hills. I don’t see them in Ottawa. Seeing a large formation of shrubby rock like that makes me feel solid. It says that this place is still here and still the same home you knew growing up... despite the superficial changes of the city it overlooks.

Making It Up As I Go Along #298

MONDAY...
— Quiet day to start. Watch a movie on PETA... and do some e-mails.
— Work is okay. Working with the women’s team on evening shift.

TUESDAY...
— Lots of snow today. 5 to 10 cm was predicted but I’d say we got closer to 10 to 15. Drive in was fine though... we got most of it while at work.

WEDNESDAY...
— In for lunch with Kiyomi... which is nice since we haven’t seen each other much over the last few weeks.
— Groceries after lunch and home for an hour before heading back to work for the evening shift. Not a bad night with Anne-Marie and Sue in AFIS with me.

THURSDAY...
— Not feeling real good today. Aches and pains and tired. But work goes alright anyway. Short change tomorrow though... that won’t be so nice to be getting up bright and early.

FRIDAY...
— Up early for days. Not lots of sleep and I’m still feeling sort of sick. But the stats are surprisingly good for a half day work and it’s off to the Christmas luncheon at the Keg. I drive Melissa, Kiyomi and Jen there... sit with Kiyomi, Jen and Trevor... and it’s a good time.
— Home for much sleep and some TV. I wake at one point wondering how it’s 4:20 AM already... taking several seconds to realize it was 4:20 PM instead.

SATURDAY...
— Skip a surprise party I was invited to because I’m just too worn down. Some congestion, a bit of a cough, sinus aches, and really tired. I sleep through the night but still have two naps during the day as well.


The Top Hat
Laid a top hat o’r a hole
And in it I did crawl.
But when the hat they took away
There was no hole at all.

Where’d he go they all wondered.
We thought he’d be right there.
My disappearing rabbit trick
Seems to have given quite a scare.

Perhaps I’m gone to another place
A thousand miles away.
Or maybe even another time
Viewing events of some past day.

If only a hat is all it took
To travel where you dream.
You’d zip through space and time
Faster than a beam.

Where would you go if you had this hat
That would take you anywhere.
And what, if anything, would you do
Once you materialized there.

Would you redo events from another time
And hope to change your days.
Or would you go to a favourite place
To live in a peaceful haze.

But that top hat has no spell
It just lays upon your head.
This whole poem comes from a dream
I had while snug in bed.

Making It Up As I Go Along #297

MONDAY...
— Lots of snow. Probably close to 30 cm by the time it’s all done. Most snow fall in one shot since I’ve moved here 4 ½ years ago.
— At least, being on evening shift, I drive in with less traffic and snow clearing having been done.
— Work is quiet. Trevor, Jon and me... Scott works some OT with us as well.

TUESDAY...
— Work is okay. Nothing out of the ordinary. I get some chilli from Tim Horton’s for supper. Watch some TV before work in the morning and early afternoon. Little else.

WEDNESDAY...
— Sort of a down day at work. My stats are fine but it’s just not a great day anyway.
— Fall asleep on the sofa during a movie after work. Oh well.

THURSDAY...
— Well the last few weeks have been a bit tiresome. So I decide to take a day away today and call in a vacation day. I don’t have many to use but it seems like a day off today would be nice.
— A power outage today. Around 5:00, things shut off. Don’t know what does it but the whole neighbourhood is out. So I’m in the candle light for a little while. It comes back on at 9:00... off again at 9:30... back again just before 10:00... quite a pain!

FRIDAY...
— Work late. I stay an extra hour to add some time. I’m there by myself then... and it’s kind of nice.

SATURDAY...
— Quiet day around the house. Some UFC stuff to watch, along with a movie. Go to the movies with Karl in the evening. I finally see the Simpson’s Movie... I like it too.


The Horror’s of Winter
There are many winter things that one forgets each summer. It’s funny that you never forget about the good and bad of summer. You sit in the cold of winter and remember the bugs, the heat, and the extra hours of light.

But winter, there are things I always forget. No matter how many winters I go through, these facts slip my mind until the season hits again and I’m shocked back into my experiences.

I say shocked because that’s a large part of the pain of winter. Static electricity. It is a frightening thing! I fear it will in fact be the death of me.

Yes, the dry air brings other hassles. The inside of the nose clogs up with dryness. The skin on the forehead becomes leathery. And even a guy feels like he needs to consider a bottle of moisturizer... or moisturizing shampoo.

But it’s the jolts of electricity that brings the most fear and loathing.

I’ve battled some of this problem with night lights. LCD lights in several rooms help for a quick getting from one spot to another. I can at least keep my hand off of light switches in this regard. I’ve probably cut my light switch time back by at least 30%.

I mean forget the environment, I’m saving money on electricity because I’m too afraid of turning things on.

Too often I’ve walked into a dark room in the winter... and reached for the switch... and had a blast of blue spark jump from the wall to my fingers. I’ve danced away cursing Ben Franklin and modern technology.

I now know what it’s like to be on the electric chair... because I’ve turned on a bathroom light in an Ottawa winter.

You get it with people too. I’ve walked up to co-workers and reached to take change from them... or hand them a pencil... or tap them on the shoulder. Great bolts of light flash between us! Smoke rises and the smell of seared flesh wafts through the air. We both curse... then laugh... and go about our day.

It’s a strange thing to take a painful shock from an outlet and you swear a blue streak... but get one from another person, and you find a way to laugh about it. I guess we really do like it when others share our pain.

But whether it be through a light switch or that personal touch, by February, most people have taken so many volts that their heart’s rhythm is out of wack and their hair stands on end. It gets to a point where you’re unsure of everything. Even the simplest items, you fear touching. You’re literally shell shocked. So taking a glass from the cupboard, or a nut from a bowl, or a seat in a leather chair... any of these simple pleasures leaves you trembling with the anticipation of being lit up in Texas execution style.

And with all this electro shock therapy, the memory of the horror will be stricken from existence. And we’ll make it through the summer forgetting all about the pain of turning on a light in January. It’s how we survive. Block out the bad... and move on for a few months of peace and tranquility.

Making It Up As I Go Along #296

MONDAY...
— Up a bit early. Well, awake a bit early anyway. So a bit tired at work today. Hang out some with Kiyomi at lunch. Hating her after her week in Mexico while we had snow.
— Leave early today to get to the dentist. Despite some sensitivity as of the last month or so, I get a clean bill of health, tooth wise, and it’s home for the evening.

TUESDAY...
— Work is okay. Meet Karl in the evening for supper and a movie. 3:10 to Yuma is quite good.
— Home in time to catch the end of the Montreal vs. Toronto hockey game. Thankfully, because it’s TSN instead of Sportsnet, Ottawa can’t black out the Leafs (petty babies). But the game is ruined going to the home run derby... or shoot out. The reason why baseball is ahead of hockey in my books now. Gimmicks aren’t given the time of day in baseball.

WEDNESDAY...
— The afternoon at work is broken up by Laura’s going away luncheon. Friday will be her last day before heading off to police college. I drive her, Megan, Michelle and Anne-Marie... we all sit together for the meal. It’s a nice time with Laura getting some presents from everyone and a couple of speeches wishing her well.

THURSDAY...
— Work is work. Eat lunch with Megan, break with Kiyomi, Jon and Mike... and today is a good example of how people affect each other. I run in to Laura in the lobby on the way out... we pause for a quick few words as we leave... and... without that pause, I would have missed Melissa coming in for the evening shift. Her arrival got Laura and I... (wait for it)... yummy sour cream and banana cupcakes!

FRIDAY...
— Laura’s last day. We say our goodbyes and I see her walk out in the afternoon with a bundle of goodies in hand, a smile and a wave. She’ll have fun learning to become a cop.
— Quiet evening at home for me. It’s been a long and tiring week.

SATURDAY...
— Around the house all day. Some TV and computer stuff. Hockey in the afternoon and evening and a couple of e-mails. It’s cold today so I stay in


Winter Fellowships
Snowstorms. Rumour has it, we’ve got a big one coming. By all reports, the next twenty-four hours should give us at least 20 cm of snow and as much as 40.

I say rumour because it seems Ottawa often gets warnings of snow and the warnings have usually been graver than the results. Yes it snows in Ottawa and I’ve driven to work on days when the snow isn’t nice. But in my four and a half years living in this city, I would yet to say I’ve been in a snowstorm. I think the most that has come down in any one event has been a shade under 20 cm. So we wait... and wonder.

You see the news now and it’s as if the entire country is blanketed in snow. Back home, where mom and dad are, there are forecasts of strong winds and 15 cm. My sister in Interior BC has upwards of 20 cm scheduled too. And Whistler, where my now former co-worker, Laura, is supposed to vacation at the end of the week... 15 cm as well. My guess is that, by in large, only those at Whistler are overly excited by this. And Laura’s excitement will likely be tempered until her plane actually touches down in BC and she makes her way to skiing bliss.

If we do get dumped on here in Ottawa, all I can be thankful for is that I’m on evening shift. Getting in the car and driving to work at 6:20 in the morning is hard enough on a summer day. Having to go out earlier still, in order to scrap the car off and heat it up... and then deal with traffic mayhem... that’s torturous.

From a traffic point of view, I figure 5 cm of snow in Ottawa equals about 15 cm in St. John’s. Lightly drifting flakes hitting the ground with postcard like imagery cause traffic snarls around this city that make me cry to just ponder. Already this year I’ve twice taken 45 minutes to make the 15 minute drive to work. Ottawa drivers are petrified of weather.

So with the evening shift, at least sleep can still be had in the morning. And there will be plenty of time to go and clean off the car before leaving. And the traffic will be greatly reduced.

It all makes me think of the differences in cities when storms hit. Ottawa, as I’ve said, has major traffic problems with the most minute amount of snow falling. And Toronto will never... and should never... live down the embarrassment of calling the army to help clean up after a storm.

Vancouver comes to a stand still with less than 5 cm of snow on the ground. This one is somewhat more understood though. This is a city that doesn’t get very many snow events and there are only a few machines capable of sanding/salting or plowing the streets of the city.

St. John’s is perhaps the most fun city to be, that I know of, when a storm hits. In the suburbs, people will wander the streets with shovel on shoulder in soldier like fashion. Just out on patrol to see who they’ll run in to and who they can help.

In the downtown part of the city, life continues on much as if the weather was fine. People just leave cars abandoned on the sides of the streets and they venture out by foot. The problem with this can be icy conditions and steep hills. Downtown St. John’s is all very hilly and if you live at the top of the hill but want to get to places that are situated at the bottom... well good luck dealing with the ice.

For those who haven’t been to downtown St. John’s in the winter... sidewalks are an afterthought. There’s no room for street snow to be pushed out of they way, so forget the sidewalks. Pedestrians take the road.

I once had to walk down a hill as if I was skiing it... very... very... slowly. I walked in a two o’clock direction for five feet... cut back and walked towards ten o’clock for another five feet... and so on... and so on. The zig zag down the hill will get you to where you want to. No speed records will be had, but if it’s a night out at a bar you crave, you will be drinking in one piece.

In fact, getting to the downtown bars on a stormy night in St. John’s, is half of the fun of the night. On one of my occasions where I’ve zig zagged down a slippery slope, I did it with a group of ten friends after a few hours socializing at my place.

These times had bar hopping more like an expedition. We would be a fellowship, just as there for each other as that group of elves, dwarves and hobbits in those big Hollywood movies.

One of the downtown men would lead the way. Some guy just in from the suburbs would be useless... he’d try to bomb the hill in a straight line and the whole group of us could wind up bobbing in the harbour (for those unfamiliar with St. John’s, the harbour is what comes at the very bottom of the funnel like physical make up of downtown St. John’s). So it would be a guy who knows his way around the narrow and hilly streets.

A second guy would follow. He’d also usually be living in the downtown area and he’s the one who would try to keep the mood light while the leader maps out the course.

After the second man, a group of three or four women would follow. The light hearted second would, while trying to distract the group with humour, keep an eye on this group of women, ready to pounce in case one of them lost her footing and began to slide and roll into the harboury abys.

Beyond this group of women, would be another pair of men. They carry out much the same type of duties as the lead men... the second unit if you will. As there’s another group of women shuffling along a few feet behind this pair as well.

The suburb guys bring up the rear. They’re usually oblivious to the duties of the more important men and they ramble on about shoveling driveways, putting up Christmas lights, or projects that are ongoing in the basement of their suburban castles. They follow the pack blindly as they talk. If this was Lord of the Rings, these are the guys that would be stomped by living trees or eaten by horse like wolves, or stabbed by giant spiders.

And at the bottom of the hill, it’s a straight walk on safe ground to a favourite watering hole. The snow is whipping around outside. The windows are blocked with frost and ice. The wind rattles window panes and puffs in cold when other venturers open the outer door. And the group is cozy inside, sipping on Guinness and laughing amongst friends.

Making It Up As I Go Along #295

MONDAY...
— Somewhat lazy start to the day... in on evening shift for today, due to the late return from Toronto yesterday.
— Work’s okay. In with Steve, Dave and Frankie. I take off an hour early to try to get home and to bed before it’s too late. Back to day shift tomorrow.

TUESDAY...
— Wake to rain... look out the window to see sloppy snow on the cars. It may be a touch slick... but ends up not too bad.
— Work is fine. Some training of Jen and some AFIS work.
— Groceries and some organizing of stuff when I get home. Some TV to end the night.

WEDNESDAY...
— Snow in the morning is a pain. 45 minutes driving to work due to snow plows and stupid people.
— Snow stops but it’s still pretty slow going in the afternoon. I do some table shopping... get a folding one at Home Depot... and bring it home to find a crack in the top. Blah! So back I go to switch up.

THURSDAY...
— Snow day. But a bad one because we still work. So it’s 45 minutes to get in... and another 45 to get home. Probably 15 cm of snow falls through the day.

FRIDAY...
— Work is alright... still takes a while to get in with the winter driving...even though the roads are fine today.
— Poker night. The game is a bit messy and we end up just playing two games at once rather than join them up as people get knocked out. That’s too bad. Hopefully people still enjoy themselves... it was a pretty fun night even with the mess. Steve and Bruce are the two winners.

SATURDAY...
— Lazy day around the house. I actually haven’t had one of those days in a while... and by late afternoon, I’m starting to feel like it’s possible that the cold everyone at work has been getting, is hitting me.

Traveling with Wagons
There are aspects to traveling that I really like... and other aspects that drive me nuts. Recently, I went to Toronto for Sam’s wedding, and the good and bad both presented themselves to me throughout.

On the bad side, I have come more and more to hate the wait. Waiting to travel is such a boring and unsettling thing all at once. My worst part of going home for holidays is now the wait in an airport. You line up in order to sit and wait... then line up again only to sit and wait some more.

It used to be that you had to line up in order to check in. You’d give them your bags and get your boarding pass. Then Ottawa got the kiosks where you can get your own boarding pass. You’d print it off and then walk past the line of people waiting. You’d be in a small line of people who’d just toss their bag to an employee at a counter and then you’re on your way to security.

Now, the line to check your bag is as long as the boarding pass line used to be. The self help kiosk no longer does anything to speed up your process. Yes, you still use it to get your pass... but then you line up for forty minutes to hand over your bags.

And speaking of bags... be it travel by plane or by train... I have gotten to a point that I hate most people’s baggage. What I speak of is the blasted bags on wheels that travelers drag behind them. We’ve returned to our youth! Where once we ambled along streets with a wagon full of toys, we now amble through terminals with luggage full of clothes.

But in our youth, you’d be one or two kids walking along with all the space needed for your wagon. In an airport, or a train station, we have hundreds or thousands of people, each with a wagon in tow. And it seems that the handles allow the luggage to get further and further away from the owner. If you enter a walkway, say from buying some gum or a bottle of water, you have to wait twice as long to merge into the crowd. You let the person walk past... but then their baggage scurries well behind them. From wheel of bag to tip of toe, a traveler now probably measures a good five feet in horizontal length.

The result is a complete loss of personal space. I’m forever having to slow down my pace for a luggage dragging old lady that veers in front of me... oblivious to the fact that her bag is right next to me when she shifts over.

And bless their hearts... the parents have given children wheeled bags too! Eight year old kids yanking a pink piece of luggage along. For all intense purposes, we are literally telling our children to bring a wagon to the airport! It’s insane.

On this past trip, I was twice nearly run over by other passengers baggage. Going from the train to the station was a death match where only the most ruthless survived. The weak were trampled by Samsonite.

Another part of travel that irritates me is the constant rush to get nowhere. My train to Toronto was with assigned seats. Everyone getting on that train knew exactly what seat they were getting. Yet still, a half hour before the train was to be boarded, people began lining up.

And as the train pulled in to Union Station, a voice came over the speakers saying “remain seated until the train comes to a complete stop.” At least... that’s what I thought it said. Perhaps it’s code and I’m too new a train traveler to know any better. Because the second that announcement ended, people got up, pulled their bags out from the overhead bins, popped the handles, and began the wagon train line to the front of the car. For the last five minutes of that train ride, people were standing in the isle hoping to get to the front of the death match race.

But there are aspects of travel that fascinate me as well. I always aim for a window seat, be it day or night, on a plane or a train. I want to look out at the world as it goes by.

I remember, during my trip to Greece, there were tourists talking of the bus rides from place to place and how there was nothing they could do other than sleep. I couldn’t believe how much these people were missing. I sat glued to the window, watching as much of the countryside go by as I could. I’d examine the properties of the locals and imagine what daily life would be like there. And I remember staring at an old stone bridge for a path along the side of the road. And I wondered of all the history that bridge has seen.

The same goes for me in any method of travel. By plane, I’ve passed over many a town that I’ve never been to. I’ve viewed the cars coming and going and wondered what that day was bringing to the people down there. Who were going to visit family on the other side of town? Who were off to do a little shopping? And who were heading home from work?

I especially am drawn to the small communities in this way. When flying, you see how many road side communities there really are. Groups of a few hundred people living along the side of a road, with only a few side roads to push them out from the main street.

At night, you see less but it’s still all there. Lights give you pinpricks of life. The lights of cars, seen from 30,000 feet above. Or the lights of homes as a train pulls you through a sleepy little town.

From a train, you can see snapshots of strangers at night. On the way to and from Toronto, I looked out as we passed through small towns of a few thousand. And I could see into kitchen windows for a second as we passed. Seeing plates and pots on cupboards and pictures of flowers on the wall.

Just outside of Toronto, both on the way into the city and when we left, we passed by a fire in the brush. And I imagined homeless people gathered around, huddled for warmth and looking up at the lights in the windows of the passing world I was in. Two extremes of society, passing in the night.

A moment that sticks with me from this last trip occurred on the way back to Ottawa. I forget which town we were stopped in, but the train came to a complete stop right in the middle of the town. My window looked out at one of the residential streets. In fact, I was sitting in the middle of the street. The train came to a stop while crossing the street, so I was able to look the length of the road with the red lights flashing and the guardrail lowered to stop traffic from proceeding.

The homes on either side of the road were lite... but there was no movement outside. No cars, no people, it was a sleepy town on a Sunday night.

But then, up the road I see a movement. A person coming towards the train, swaying from side to side in the middle of the street. The closer the person got, the more clear the picture became. White bags in hand, a wool hat atop the head... and swaying back and forth, back and forth... rhythmically.

The person comes up to the train crossing and stands up straight... stopping the swaying... and pushes back his heal to slow down. He was a middle aged man, probably in his late forties or early fifties, and my train has interrupted his roller blade trip home from the grocery store. Both hands holding bags of groceries and the man standing on his roller blades, quietly shifting his weight from one skate to the other as he waited... no roller blader ever stands completely still.

Then the train lurched forward and the view from my window shifted from the light of the street, with the man on his blades... instantly, the darkness of night overtook the view and I was left to imagine what lay within and beyond those dark bushes... All the while that man continued to wait for the rest of my train to pass... me on my train, like a traveler pulling wagon-like baggage behind.

Buffalo vs. Ottawa, a good game watched on Thursday
CN Tower late Saturday night, on the way back from the wedding.
The view from Jim and Kristann's hotel. Beat my railway track view by a mile.


MONDAY...
— Holiday. Not doing too much. Around the house and spending time with Ruby and Lee. It’s nice.

TUESDAY...
— Work’s okay. I’m in QC for the first time in months and it goes alright.
— Some studying for the Friday interview and some time on the phone.

WEDNESDAY...
— Bowling day at work. I team up with Melissa, Megan and Mike. It’s fun enough.
— My interview is delayed. Won’t be Friday now... probably it’ll happen in a week or two. Never straight forward in our office, that’s for sure.

THURSDAY...
— Work’s tricky. First time I’ve done Partial Purges in about seven months. And the last time it was for a half an hour. Last full day of it was about two years ago!
— Off to the hockey game tonight. Go with Melissa and Nick and Nick’s friend. I was lucky to get the seat cause it was a good game... even though Buffalo lost to Ottawa 3-2.

FRIDAY...
— Work is fine but a bit tiring. Not much sleep last night due to the late night with the hockey game.
— Walk to the train station from work and head to Toronto for the weekend. Get in town around 9:00... to the hotel just before 9:30... and have a few phone calls with Jim and the parents before calling it a night.

SATURDAY...
— Meet up with Jim and Kristann in the morning. We do some walking around, shopping, lunch, and hanging out.
— Sam’s wedding in the evening. It’s good. Done in a restaurant on the 54th floor of a skyscrapper, overlooking downtown Toronto. Had the roof been off the Air Canada Centre, we could have watched the game. I continue my no-dance policy with some words from others for it.

SUNDAY...
— Long day. Up and find that my train ticket is gone. The receipt part is there but not the ticket back to Ottawa. So I go off to Union Station and talk to them and have to buy another ticket. Then it’s meeting Jim and Kristann... over to Sam’s place for brunch... and end the Toronto trip hanging out at Christie’s place eating, drinking, and watching football.
— Train to Ottawa is long and slow. A couple of delays gets us in Ottawa about Midnight. Twenty minutes walking to the car at work... ten minutes getting the frost off... and home.

No story this week. A long and busy weekend with things that need getting done on Monday make the story tricky. Pictures instead.

Making It Up As I Go Along #293

MONDAY...
— Craziness at work... I go in with a couple of slices of pizza for supper... put it in the fridge... and at supper time, I look and find one slice left. Who takes other people’s pizza?

TUESDAY...
— Crazy times at work. The day after someone steals a slice of my pizza, I go in today to hear that dozens of cars have tires punctured in the parking lot. Someone going around with a knife it seems.
— First snow for me to see this winter. Just a few minutes of it at shift change. I run in to Laura on my way to AFIS and she said “did you bring your snowmobile?” I didn’t know what she was talking about... ten minutes earlier, I walked in with no threat of snow. Nuts.
— Thai food for supper with Jon and Trevor tonight.

WEDNESDAY...
— Work is alright... nothing out of the ordinary really. It’s pretty cold though, hovering around zero today. I still do an hour a ten minute walk late... and come back pretty frosty.

THURSDAY...
— Work is fine... Ruby and Lee pop by the office in the evening to get my key to the house. I didn’t know they were coming tonight so it’s quite the surprise... but the weekend should be nice with them around.

FRIDAY...
— Lunch with Ruby and Lee. Some hanging around with them as well. Work is alright but a longish night.
— Lined up for my promotion interview... next Friday is the day.

SATURDAY...
— Some shopping with Ruby and Lee. Jan and Melissa come over with Melissa’s nephew and we have spaghetti for supper. Hockey and some movies in the night.


Surprise!
A week of surprises. Lots of things going on and popping up this week. It begins on Monday.

I bring in a couple of slices of pizza Monday for supper. Some of the good stuff from Louis’. I got a pizza there Sunday after doing some work.

Having a good supper waiting in the fridge is a nice thing. Too often, I go to work on evening shift and bring a crumby sandwich that I’d rather not eat. But not this time... this time, it’ll be a pleasure come six o’clock.

Six comes and so does a surprise. I open the fridge and take out my ziploc bag of pizza... and it looks smaller. I only see one slice. I flip the bag over in my hand a few times, trying to get the second slice to come out of hiding. Yes it’s a clear bag and it would be hard for one slice to disappear behind a second... but I’m desperate to find my pizza.

Alas, it is not there. Someone else came to the fridge, opened my ziploc, and took a slice of pizza. A high level of class is what it takes for this to occur. I picture James Bond on a top secret mission, pacing through a kitchen with much stealth, and his gun ready to fire. He stops, opens the fridge, and proceeds to grab an enemy spy’s pizza.

On Tuesday, another surprise awaits me. I come in and it’s cool outside, but nothing too bad. I discuss the pizza affair with Megan... we leave a sign for the thief on a bottle of mustard... and then I head in to AFIS to prepare for the day’s work.

On the way in, Laura is coming out... getting ready to head home for the day. “I hope you brought a snowmobile.” She says. I’m confused. I have no idea what she’s talking about. Until I get to the window.

In the fifteen minutes between my arrival and now, the heavens opened up and the ice it poured down.

It’s a very wet, icy snow. The concrete outside the lobby is coated in white and people scamper to get away to their cars, or into the sanctuary of the building. I stand in AFIS, stunned. Winter is here and I’m not prepared for it... not mentally anyway. It crushes my spirit.

Thursday comes with another shock. I’m working away in AFIS, it’s now dark outside so those people who come and go are mere shadows as they pass.

One of the shadows suddenly comes into focus as it raps on the window. I blink twice as I see the image of my uncle Lee.

Earlier in the week, I expect them to come. House guests for a few days in the middle of the week. But a few days ago, an e-mail tells me of their delay and I hear nothing more. I assume they’re bypassing Ottawa on their journey now.

But here they are, and house guests I will have after all.

The last surprise of the week comes on Friday. It’s sort of an expected surprise though. I get to work and check my e-mail, and there’s the message I’ve been looking for the last several weeks. My promotion interview is coming in a week. The messages glares up at me in my inbox, even before I open it. So when others will be gearing down next Friday, getting ready for the weekend, I’ve got to wind it up... slip on the tie... and sit under the hot lights of interrogation. Perhaps they’ll ask me about my pizza.

Making It Up As I Go Along #292

MONDAY...
— Reasonable day at work... training and working away. Lunch with Kiyomi, Michelle and Anne-Marie. My stomach is a bit touchy though today. I think the shawarma I had yesterday wasn’t all it could have been.
— Scraped frost from the car for the first time this fall/winter. A week ago it was 25 degrees, today it was -3 when I leave in the morning. It does warm to about 12 but still.

TUESDAY...
— Work is okay. Hang with Megan some at lunch and a break... with Kiyomi at the other break.
— Long walk tonight... and some hockey on the tube.

WEDNESDAY...
— Tired day to start... hard getting out of bed. But okay at work. Training Jenn still, this time in TC AFIS. A few visits with Laura... lunch with Megan... and after work, Janice and I go for a quick bite before going to the arena to watch Laura play hockey with the RCMP guys. It’s a fun time.

THURSDAY...
— Day starts rough as there’s a blackout and three sets of lights are out on the drive in. So the drive becomes twenty minutes longer.
— Work is fine. Lunch is lots of laughs with Megan, Kiyomi and Martin. A bit of TV and the internet end the day.

FRIDAY...
— Luncheon for Atlas today. So work gets a break that way. Watch Apocalypto on the movie network tonight.

SATURDAY...
— Quiet time around the house during the day. Some movies... laundry... a few phone calls.
— Out for the evening. Atlas and Karen pick me up, we meet Laura and Sheila and some others at a diner... go to a bar for a drink... then off to another bar for a show. Pretty fun night.


It’s Complicated
Well I’ve done some writing today. But it’s nothing I’m too keen to share. Sometimes, things don’t need to be an open book.

Now, things are complex. People guard privacy with such ravenousness that it’s like a trusted friend is a thief that needs to be watched suspiciously. But, at the same time, people share their minutest life details with such tools as blogs, Facebook and MySpace.

YouTube makes an ordinary thirty second segment of your life entertainment on a global scale.

One minute people feel as though they’re being stalked, the next minute they’re calling for all to see a private moment. I guess it’s all about control. Taking charge of what you share... and how much of it you give.

I’m torn on the matter myself. I don’t want to share everything. I don’t want to be under the illusion that anyone else would even care to see or hear what I’ve got to share. Yet, at the same time I write a blog and send out an e-mail.

I was once recently asked “where’s Sunday?” on my blog. I write a daily list, telling the things that stood out, but Sunday is usually absent.

There are times I include Sunday. If I’ve basically had an entire day go by before sending out my update, maybe I’ll include the reason for the delay. But what started as a simple exclusion has grown into a type of stand.

Sunday’s were originally excluded because the writing was done Sunday morning and nothing else had happened to that point in the day. But now, it’s more of a wall. I share every other day of the week... sharing mostly only what I wish to share but, in actuality, sharing most of my meaningful things all the same.

So Sundays have become mine alone. One day of the week that I can do what I want without feeling any need or desire to share it.

I don’t know the answer to it all. I don’t know if people should be more open or more private. Plenty of times I’ve seen people share more than I’ve ever wanted, or cared, to know. And, other times, people shoot up walls about such mundane things as their weekend activities.

I guess it’s proper judgement that I would like to see more of. A cell phone is a great device to keep in touch with friends and family who you can’t be near. But it can shut out those that are right there next to you while you use it. Frivolous text messaging when you’re not alone is like making fun of someone who’s standing right there. They can see it happen, they know it’s happening, but they’re being left out of the activity.

So today I did write something more than this. And it’s something that means more to me than the stuff I’m typing here. But not everything has to be thrown out there for all to see. And the complexity is... at the same time, I wish people did this more... and less... often.

Making It Up As I Go Along #291

MONDAY...
— Hot. Sunny and 25 and it’s October 22nd? Who’d have thunk it. Go across for lunch with Melissa and Megan and hang out outside with Melissa and Laura at the second break.
— Training Jenn at AFIS. It’s kind of nice taking on a bit of an extra duty... even if just an hour or so each day for a week.
— Back is still touchy but I do an hour long walk tonight anyway.

TUESDAY...
— More training and some alone time in AFIS to end the shift. Most people head to the officers mess at 2:00 for a little gathering. Lisa and I stay back in AFIS instead. Just as good.

WEDNESDAY...
— Tired day. Still training Jenn, and Melissa and I order Greek for lunch today.
— Some baseball and hockey on TV as I’m too tired to do much else tonight.

THURSDAY...
— Tired at work even though I’m sleeping well this week. Just not getting enough sleep I guess.
— A walk in the evening and some TV to end out the night.

FRIDAY...
— Work is fine. Still training and still pretty tired until lunch. A fire drill has Melissa, Megan, Laura, Leslie and me hanging outside. And Melissa and I pick up poutine for lunch for Megan and us.
— A night at the movies gets called off... so it’s a quiet night around the house... which is fine. A small nap and some relaxing.

SATURDAY...
— Rainy day. Lazy around the house for much of it. Over to Sheila’s for the hockey game and pizza with her and Nicole. Then off to downtown with Sheila to meet Nick and his crew for his birthday. Melissa, and Megan and her husband make it a good time. I chauffeur Megan, Bruce and Sheila home and unwind a bit before bed.

October 27
Went out last night. It’s not often that I hit the bars of downtown Ottawa. I’ve never been much of a bar scene kind of guy. But I must say, the odd time I went to the bars in St. John’s... it felt like a natural part of the community. Doing it in Ottawa... it’s like being around geeks trying to be cool. Ottawa just isn’t a night life type of town.

But it’s Nick’s birthday and I agree to go out with a bunch of people. And we hit an okay bar that sits down in the bowels of a couple of other bars. And that... having a bar within a bar... is at least an attempt at cool.

This is a mess of Irish bars. But that doesn’t really qualify on a night like tonight. From our little hide away, we can hear the music from upstairs... and there’s nothing Irish about it. For me, this is a good thing. I’d rather listen to rock music than Irish music any day. Being from St. John’s, you either go nuts loving Irish music... or nuts pulling your hair out at the sound of Irish music. And if you’ve seen my head... you know which category I fall in to.

Something else occurs to me while we’re at the bar. I may very well be the oldest person in the place. There’s a bit of talk among our crowd about ages. And, among us, I do reign supreme. Scanning the rest of the bar, I may have them all beat.

It’s a weird feeling when you are the oldest person in the bar. It sort of makes you feel like you should make your way home... put on a cup of tea... and watch the late night news. Let the young ones party, got to get home to bed.

But I’m stuck. I’m actually being the responsible one... I’m the driver. So it’s more like I’m the chaperon. I have to make sure things don’t get out of hand and that the kiddies get home safe.

As drinking progresses, you hear little things. People who are five years younger than me talking to people who are ten years younger than me about how they’re so old. Then a glance may come my way with laughter... or I may make a joke of it myself. And I’m left wondering how I got here!

As the drinking keeps going, the designated driver becomes more uncool. Those very obviously unable to drive expect those who still can to understand the joke that consists of squinty eyes and poking someone in the shoulder. But for the sober, the hilarity is missed... and they shake their head at your stiffness... and go back to shoulder poking.

Even those not consuming the booze need to hit the bathroom. And so I venture in wondering if it’ll be full or empty, clean or a sewer room that’s ready for more waste to be dumped wherever you please.

Fortunately, it’s clean. Surprisingly, because before I go in I forget that it’s the weekend before Halloween, I walk in on two gorillas standing back to back at the urinals. That is to say, two guys dressed up in gorilla costumes are having a wee. It’s a bit surreal.

While I still wait, one gorilla goes to wash his hands... he checks himself out in the mirror and comments to his gorilla friend about his gorilla nipples.

A stall opens and a guy dressed as a nerd (costume nerd that is) comes out. Well I guess my Vancouver Canucks hat will have to do as far as my costume goes. I move along to do my business.

The night continues on. As the guys get more drunk, they get more bold trying to hit on Megan. Her husband stands there, secure... and Megan rolls eyes from time to time.

Once the sleeper holds come out among the boys... and the birthday boy nears unconsciousness, we decide to leave. So Sheila, Megan, Bruce and I head for the car... much to the disappointment of those drunks looking to get lucky with the married woman.

We ride through the night... through quite streets of windswept leaves that remind you of the spookiness of the season. A sea of leaves that almost make the road indistinguishable as they swirl about road, sidewalk and driveways with the wind. First, Megan and Bruce get dropped off. Then, it’s Sheila. And finally I’m driving home alone. Still the oldest but now also able to call myself the youngest in the car. And it’s soon to bed with images of peeing gorillas dancing in my head.

Making It Up As I Go Along #290

MONDAY...
— Not feeling all that well today. I drop mom and dad at the airport but have a headache and some congestion in the nose. I guess I can’t blame this on the office.
— I decide to take the day off. Just feeling run down and shivery and achy this afternoon so why push it?
— Sleep off and on through the day and watch some playoff baseball.

TUESDAY...
— Still feeling sick. Drag myself into the office and keep fighting to stay. First I say I’ll leave at supper... than at 8:00 break. In the end, I stay for the night.

WEDNESDAY...
— Through the day thinking of going to work or not. Then one move with my arm and my back spasms from between my shoulder blades up to the neck. Mind made up there. It sounds like others are dealing with similar stuff too. Our office is becoming the nemesis of good health.
— Drugs and lots of heat finish out my day. Haven’t done any walks in a while... between bad weather, travel and health, it’s just not happening.

THURSDAY...
— As the day goes my back and neck improve. By the time I get home from work it’s a mild tightness... as compared to the tender roll out of bed that occurred when I awoke this morning.
— Hour and ten minute walk tonight. First long walk in a couple of weeks. It’s pretty good.

FRIDAY...
— Back is worse today than it was yesterday. Maybe I shouldn’t have done the walk last night. Work is okay... groceries are bought on the way home... and I plan for a quiet day tomorrow to hopefully cure the woes.

SATURDAY...
— Quiet house day to try to get the back... well... back. Watch a few movies and flip back and forth between hockey and baseball games in the evening. Do some laundry as I go.


The Problem With Backs
Wimpy in the back. That’s what I am when I’m sick. Wimpy in the back.

I actually blame it on big, manly shoulders. All tight with muscles that ripple when I move. Sometimes, when you have so many muscles all jammed together back there, tucked in with shoulder blades, ribs and a spine, something’s going to slip.

The truth of the matter is, about twice a year, I run into muscle problems in my upper back and neck region. If I get sick and muscle aches and pains are part of the symptoms, I really need to watch what I do, because those upper back muscles are often the first ones to give up the ghost.

This week, I got sick. Last Sunday, I started feeling quite run down. I assumed it to be from driving to Montreal and back with the parents. And that I hadn’t had much down time in the previous week. But I woke on Monday feeling even more run down.

I mention it to the parents as we get ready to bring them to the airport. And, on the drive there, I’m just feeling it more and more.

Coming home alone, it’s like I allow myself to relax... and with that relaxation, comes the sickness. A bit of a cough, headache, tired muscles... even a touch light headed. I drive home along the farm roads, away from the bustle of the city, and by the time I make it back, I’ve decided... I’m sick.

Staying home on the Monday is the plan and I wake on the Tuesday not feeling much different. Still, I go in and fight through the day. By the end of the shift, my back is tight and I crash at home.

Wednesday, the symptoms are fading. I’m thinking of work again, and I go to toss the comforter back on my bed. With the flick of my left hand, the spasm hits. From the base of my left shoulder blade up to the base of my neck, it all wrenches. With that, I go for another sick day.

A microwave, magic bag accompanies me for much of the rest of the day. My aunt actually made this bag for me and I think she put beans or peas or something in there... cause after one bout of the microwave, it smelt like I was cooking something.

Along with the bag, propped between my shoulders and giving me the imagined image of a clock tower recluse in France, I take to popping some of that Robax Platinum. You know the drug I’m talking about. All those computer generated marionettes are dancing through life on the TV commercials. It started out as a neat idea. Having a marionette with needles in it’s back... all hunched over... you could feel it’s pain. But now it’s gotten ridiculous. I’m waiting for the Robax Marionette sitcom. We’re getting to a point where we know these things intimately. They walk the dog... the dance... they play with their kids... all the while with the needle of Damocles hanging over them.

Well let me say something else about the Robax people and their silly adds. Robax does nothing! I popped that stuff every four or five hours, two at a time, and no needles ever came out of my back. Perhaps you need to be made of wood... or maybe just computer generated wood... for the drugs to have any effect.

Anyway, we all have our weaknesses. Those muscles and joints that are hit hardest during times when we’re worn down. But at least I’m improving. Yesterday I made my bed again... this time taking sheets straight out of the laundry and putting them all on the bed, and there was no further spasms to knock me over. And I haven’t used the magic bag in a couple of days.

I wonder does Arnold Schwarzenegger deal with back issues like this? Seeing that we have the same build and all.

Making It Up As I Go Along #289

MONDAY...
— Wake in Smiths Falls with the folks. We travel around some... Perth, Merrickville, Kemptville... and the Hershey Factory in Smiths Falls. End the travel with Kars and Manotick and then it’s the evening at home with mom and dad. Good time, the last few days made for a good trip.

TUESDAY...
— Shopping and some time around the house. I take the day off work and then learn that the interview I have scheduled for Thursday is postponed. The promotion game will begin later in the month.

WEDNESDAY...
— Walk to get some groceries with Dad. Work is fine... no evening walk again today. Rain makes it risky.

THURSDAY...
— Wet day so it’s mostly around the house with mom and dad... then to work... and then home for some TV. Not much out of the ordinary.

FRIDAY...
— Walk Mer Bleue in the morning... work is quiet with Jon, Trevor and me... and no Jon after 8:00. Supper out with Sheila joining us.

SATURDAY...
— Drive to Montreal for Geoff’s wedding. We do part of the drive along the Ottawa River rather than the highway. It’s nice. The hotel is great and the wedding is about as good as weddings are able to be. Good to see all the Riggs gang.

SUNDAY...
— After morning brunch, we leave Montreal... getting pretty tired on the drive back to Ottawa and we lounge about, watch a movie, have a visit with Melissa, and eat Chinese food.


Garlic and Holy Water at the Wedding
Wedding beefs. I do have a few. The biggest... professional videographers and photographers. Geoff’s wedding was good. But boy did I hate the video guy! Let it be known that I type this update with blue specks of light flashing from each blink. And I have the video guy to blame!

First strike against the guy... he looks just like Steve Simmons (a sports writer and one of the regular guests on TSN’s the Reporters). Steve Simmons is a twit who decided to make a commentary about sports because he had no ability to play them. He’s a nerd in a jock world and he doesn’t understand the basic principals of sports. Yet somehow, that turkey got a job in the sports field.

So video guy has that strike going against him. I’ve got Steve Simmons with a camera. And the problem with video guys at weddings... is they’re paid to be where the action is. So you see them all the time.

And the worst part of these guys... the prison style search light that’s plastered to the top of their video camera. This thing is everywhere. You really do feel like a prisoner trying to make a break for it... you reach the wall... you’re about to climb over... and BLAM! You’re got like a deer in the headlights! Blinded... you can’t help but stare into the light. He twirls it away and you’re left seeing everything in a blue spot prism.

I have had a few nemeses in my life. As a child, Keith Parsons was the kid who lived down the street and who I kept banging heads with. This summer, some guy who works in my building kept walking past the AFIS window... at least five times a day. He’s in his forties or fifties, has a Miami Vice style haircut (even though he’s balding) and he wears sunglasses that don’t fit his face. Whenever I’d look out a window, there he’d be.

And now... this weekend in Montreal... the videographer becomes my latest nemesis. I know it right away. We’re in the church and he’s walking down the isle with this camera on a stick, cycloptic headlight canvassing the house of God. Children squeal as they squint their delicate eyes and some of the elderly lose whatever sight the had remaining, all for the good of posterity.

Much is the urge to salute the man with a middle finger or evil glares when he ventures my way. But I remember my longtime friendship with the groom and decide to hold back... for him.

I imagine I wouldn’t make for a very good celebrity. Well, from the point of view of the paparazzi, I’m sure I would. I’d be on the rack of every grocery store rag. “Brown flips!”, “Brown attacks cameraman.” “Brown throws Britney’s baby and hits cameraman between the eyes with it... Britney cheers him on.”

It’s just the intrusions from sniveling little twerps... it drives me crazy. These people don’t ask if it’s alright. Actually, people like the Steve Simmons look-a-like don’t even acknowledge you. In a room filled with people, this guy doesn’t speak to a soul... not a smile... no manner of breaking the ice is ever attempted. All he does is flick on the high beam and take in the action as he watches us all do our best vampire in the sunlight impression.

Sure, weddings are all about the bride and groom... but does their happiness have to be paid for with my eyesight?

Making It Up As I Go Along #288

MONDAY...
— October 1 and it’s 24 degrees today. Nice stuff.
— Work is alright for dayshift. I’m actually alert in the morning but get sort of tired after lunch.

TUESDAY...
— Tired after a bad night’s sleep but I file at work and it’s okay.
— Hour plus walk in the evening.

WEDNESDAY...
— Work is okay... slow going in the AM but I pick up as the day goes. Hockey at Nick’s in the evening. Ottawa beats Toronto in overtime. Alright game though.

THURSDAY...
— Dead tired in the afternoon. Almost feels like I’m getting sick... but I think it’s from being tired and having eaten lunch out in the sun. It’s a warm sunny day today, so maybe, put it all together and I got run down.
— Pick up Ian from the airport and do a little visit with him. Been years since I saw him last and it’s quite good to catch up during his quick trip to Ottawa.

FRIDAY...
— Kind of tired today, even though I slept well last night. Thanks to the map Laura drew up, mom, dad and I should have a fine trip down in her neck of the woods. Apple Orchards and Upper Canada Village on the schedule.
— Out with Karl for supper and a movie. Live Free or Die Hard was pretty good.

SATURDAY...
— Get the parents at the airport in the morning. Get some groceries... and check out things downtown in the Market. Just stay home in the evening and watch the hockey game.


Thanksgiving
Thanksgiving parents in town again.
Thanksgiving geese squawking above corn fields.
Thanksgiving pumpkins with painted faces
sold in the market to smile in your home.

Thanksgiving syrup from the maple tree.
Thanksgiving leaves of red, orange and yellow.
Thanksgiving turkey discussed and planned
the smell and taste arrive days before the bird.

Thanksgiving sugar pie tasting French goodness.
Thanksgiving baseball, the playoffs on TV.
Thanksgiving fields left stubbly with stalks
preparing to protect the soil from winters snow.

Making It Up As I Go Along #287

MONDAY...
— Day shift. First time I’m in for a week of days since June. Do okay... not too tired but needing the breaks when they come to go out for some fresh air.
— An hour evening walk. And I don’t much like those. It felt like walking through the mall with cars everywhere and people walking dogs and kids left, right and centre. The second half of the hour was better as the sun went down and darkness shoos people away. I’ll have to aim for a bit later in the evening next time.

TUESDAY...
— Sleep a bit better than last night but am more tired at work. I need to even get up and walk around from time to time.
— Humid day. Felt like about 35 degrees. Still walk with Melissa at breaks though.
— No walk tonight. I talk to Karl on the phone and work on my list for the hockey pool instead. Plus I thought it was going to rain at anytime. I didn’t want to be two kilometres from home and stuck in a thunder storm.

WEDNESDAY...
— Awake, pretty much for good, at 3:50 this morning. My return to day shift takes a bump.
— Work is tough with the sleepiness. Lunch with Melissa, Megan, Leslie and Casey at the cafeteria.
— 45 minute nap after work. Then some cleaning around the house to end the day.

THURSDAY...
— Tired at work. I sleep better last night but still, I guess after several days of less sleep and being active in the morning for the first time in months, it’s catching up.
— Few groceries and finish the cleaning after work. So no walk again tonight. It’s grey and wet anyway, so not ideal walk weather... spick and span house though.
— My stolen blue recycling box has been found. Good thing with day shift, I can be there pretty well as soon as the boxes have been emptied... and there my old one was!

FRIDAY...
— Work is work. The hockey pool is drafted afterwards. I pick 5th out of 12 and am happy with my team. It should go places.
— To my house for a party afterwards. Fewer go than are hoped. Linda, Sheila, Nick, Devin, Janice are there for the evening... Melissa for a short time. Still a fun time with pizza and 1972 Canada vs. USSR hockey on DVD. But I have way to much junk food left in the house after they’re gone.

SATURDAY...
— I’m getting so tired of hearing hockey experts constantly talking about “The New NHL”. The ‘new’ NHL is starting it’s third season now. It’s no longer new... move on! That said... I’d like to see a ‘new’ NHL... one without the stupid shoot-out... that only uses wooden sticks... and outlaws football type, bulletproof equipment.
— Watch the first game of the year. From Merry ol’ England it’s LA and Anaheim. Not a special game but it is hockey.
— An hour walk at midnight tonight. Once again, liking the late.


Things Have Changed
A week of changes. Much has changed... or is in the process of changing through this week.

The hockey season is here again. On Friday, we get together to draft the office hockey pool. Barring injury problems again (cause my team last year was beat up) I should do good. Draft day is usually a bit of fun. Sitting with people you enjoy, discussing a sport that we’re all in to. Making fun of each other for picking one guy we had no intention of going after... cursing each other for picking another that we were about to draft ourselves.

I’m often at drafts thinking back to past pool drafts. Some where you’d pick players in turn... others where you’d bid on each player in an auction format. A favourite memory is of a draft some fifteen years ago. Having Blair, a friend who can tend to be a little ready to think the worst, throw out the name of a particular defencemen. And around the table it went... and nobody else entered on the bidding. “Nope”, “na”, “Not me”, “take him Blair”.

Blair looks around nervously... “what’s the matter with him boys?”

“Oh nothing,” says one. “Nothing at all,” claims another. Unable to resist, I pipe up... “Funeral’s on Wednesday Blair.”

Blair’s mouth drops. “Let me pick someone else!” We had to then assure Blair that the player was indeed still alive... although I don’t think he lasted the full season on Blair’s roster.

And hockey games came back to TV this week. Saturday and Sunday in England. Leave it to the NHL to start the season gimmicky. England being a hockey power as it is. But I could help watching yesterday and wondering if a London based NHL team would be good. The stadium seemed fine... and the atmosphere was good. Maybe a European division isn’t so far fetched? But I really don’t want five or six more teams in the league. Let’s just move Nashville, Atlanta, Anaheim, Florida, Carolina, Columbus, and Phoenix. They could be London, Stockholm, Berlin, Moscow, Prague, Helsinki, and Vienna.

In other changes...

Baseball is ending. Now comes the playoffs. I love baseball playoffs. There’s added intensity to the games and, every season, something magical happens. The dramatics of a game with no time clock... where comebacks are always possible. In the early point of the playoffs, there’s usually triple headers on TV too. An afternoon game, followed by one at supper, ended with a night game from the west coast. It makes you want to take a day off work just to sit around and do the baseball thing.

Also this week... I had a party. I’ve had people (more than one or two) at my place I think... four times since I’ve moved to Ottawa. So once a year. Of course, commitment isn’t an easy thing to get from people. Seventeen were invited... five appeared. Most had reasonable reasons why they couldn’t but a few just simply disappeared. I guess I know a couple of people not to bother to invite next time!

But it was a good time for the group of us anyway. I’m just now overloaded with junk food. I rarely eat the stuff now and never buy it for having around the house, so I’ll have to get people over again soon in order to rid myself of the backlog. Otherwise, I’ll be eating Party Mix for supper and washing it down with root beer!

But the biggest change this week was that at work. I was back on dayshift.

After three months of straight evenings, it was a return to the land of the living. And it was weird. I came in to the office Monday morning, not used to the traffic on the way in. All those people driving through the darkness of morning. And then four or five times more people in the office than on evening shift. Everywhere you turn, there’s someone there. For the first half hour, it felt like an invasion. I wanted to find a quiet corner to curl up in. And I’ve found that from 7:00 to about 9:30, I contribute very little to any conversation that goes beyond a grunt or a one word answer.

But with time you get used to the bodies... drown out the ones you don’t need to hear and be happy to see the ones you don’t often come across. And there’s something to be said for leaving the office in daylight and seeing others all about the place. And then to be able to take your time and watch a sunset if you want to... right from the comfort of your bedroom window.

But that 5:15 alarm clock... now that just hurts.

Making It Up As I Go Along #286

MONDAY...
— After walking on Saturday and Sunday of last week... I take tonight off.
— Work is work... before work there’s not much going on.

TUESDAY...
— How many white guys were walking around at five to twelve this morning, listening to Japanese music on their MP3 player? Well I can name one anyway. I guess we’re all unique on some level. Out there for a little short of an hour. It’s different doing it in the daytime rather than night.
— I also did some writing today. That was good... I haven’t done that too often lately.

WEDNESDAY...
— Hour and forty-five minute walk after work tonight. Likely my last real like evening walk as I’m not home until 2:20. I need to be in bed earlier than that most nights now as day shift is coming next week and I need to get a more consistent sleep pattern. But it’s a nice night to stretch it out tonight.

THURSDAY...
— Watched that Survivor show again. Silly me.
— No walk tonight. Taking a break but plan to go again tomorrow.

FRIDAY...
— Some playing around with the computer. Normal work day. Not much else going on really.

SATURDAY...
— Quiet day around the house. Then off with Atlas for a poker night at the RCMP Mess. It’s a fund raiser. I do badly but have fun all the same. I actually get a prize as me and another tied for the first people knocked out of the tournament.


These are the Days of Our Lives
Well it’s upon me. After close to three straight months of evening shift at work... I am returning to the regular shift pattern. Well, pretty close to regular. I’ll still do Tina’s evenings too. But still, I’ll be on days as much as evenings again.

So how will it go? What will I do to maintain sleep and energy? We’ll have to wait and see. The plan is to aim for earlier bedtimes while on evenings. To cut down the 3:00 AM and later turn ins and try to keep a bedtime that’s more consistent between days and evenings. Although maybe I’ll sneak some late nights in there still. With Tina’s evening shift, it comes right after mine... so I’ll be two straight weeks of evenings when I do them. Perhaps I’ll be able to sneak in three or four late nights during that two week span.

Cause the thing is... I love the night. I’m not dying to work at night mind you. To think of going from midnight to 7:00 AM at the office is not appealing. I just love the quiet and freedom of it.

Being able to go out for an hour and a half walk and not see anyone is really something special. Being able to be around the house and only hear crickets outside and not even think about phone calls is also quite peaceful.

But, I have a job that doesn’t allow for this to be my everyday reality. For three months, it was great... but it’s time to rejoin the real world.

So what does this mean? It means that I’ll be looking at a clock at 9:30 each night and thinking about cluing up a few more things before getting ready for bed. It means forcing myself to bed, whether I’m tired or not, by 11:00 at the latest. And it means awaking to my CD player while it’s still dark outside.

And the late night walks? Cut back to a reasonable hour I guess. Maybe right after work in the broad daylight. Maybe after supper. Or perhaps a few hours before bed. Either way, I’m sure it won’t just be me and the rabbits... too bad.

That all said, there will be some good in all this. After all, I could have stayed on evenings for another month but I decided to make the change back early. I’ll be with a team again. Part of a group and one of the gang.

I’ll be able to do some things in the evenings. Shopping for underwear at Mark’s Work Warehouse can happen with regular people rather than the legions of retirees who shop in the late mornings. No more dodging old person go-carts... I can stride around with the people in their prime!

There will be people I’ll see again. Derek, Sheila, Laura, Megan... all day shift people who I either haven’t seen or have only briefly spoken to at shift change. Although... Sheila and Laura are on different floors and I probably won’t see a great deal of them anyway... and Megan is busy in CNI, so I won’t see much of her either... and Derek... well Derek I may see more of. But do I give up the magic of the night so I can hang out with Derek? I mean he’s a good guy and all but...

Aww, let’s do it! Derek is THE man... and besides, I do need new underwear. And those old people and their go-carts scare me!

Making It Up As I Go Along #285

MONDAY...
— Work is alright. I’m actually on evenings with my new team. First time working with them since officially joining them. Next week I’ll be separated from them again but that’s fine. Back to regular shift at the start of October.
— Trevor, Jonathan and I get Thai food for supper. Good stuff... I’ll have to do it more often.
— Got lots of plates and stuff. Ruby and Lee gave it to Melissa to bring back to me. Completes my set with the plates and bowls and mugs. I tell ya, I’m almost all grown up now.
— No walk tonight. Too bad, I was geared to go tonight and, when I look out just before leaving, I see rain. Oh well. If it was lots of rain around here, I’d throw on the coat and go anyway. But it’ll likely be fine and dry tomorrow night, so I may as well delay.

TUESDAY...
— Very long day at work. Hours dragged on and on. It did it for everyone too... that was the comment at the end of the night.
— The switch back to regular shift is getting bumped up a week. I was originally going to do it October 1... now it’ll be September 24. It’s time... although I may have a hard time getting back to that sleep pattern.

WEDNESDAY...
— Work is better today speed wise. A fairly straight forward night on the whole... not much out of the ordinary.
— Exercise day... half hour bike ride in the morning and an hour long walk after work. Summer’s over... rather than cute bunny rabbits on the walk... I come across a rat. Good times.

THURSDAY...
— Busy day. Luncheon for our team... we do an Italian place on Elgin Street. Then work at 1:30. Share some birthday wishes with Laura... no cake though (sniff). Supper with Shannon (the girl at work rather than the guy from home)... and work a bit of extra time to build up a little in case I need it for future vacations and the like.
— No walk tonight. I planned to but had trouble switching the music on my MP3 player... and by the time it was all fixed and ready to go, it was too late. I’m going to be at work for 11:30 again tomorrow so I can’t be up all night.

FRIDAY...
— Busy day again. Staff BBQ for charity. Bad music by a band of people who work in other departments. Hang out with Melissa, Megan, Sheila, Laura, and Nick. I break the dunk tank... in a good way. Nail the target, drop the boss into the water, and break the target in the process. It looks good, people are into it, but I think the target was weak before I hit it cause I didn’t put a load into the throw.
— Go to the mess for a drink for Laura’s birthday (which was yesterday). Eight or so people there... all good ones in my books... and some good talking and laughs are had. I only stay an hour before going back to the office to keep working. I stay until 10:00 (even though I could have left by 7:30) in order to build some extra time.
— No walk tonight... it’s raining pretty heavy for much of the night.

SATURDAY...
— Quiet day around the house. Supposed to meet up with Melissa but she’s not feeling well and we put it off until next week. So I watch some movies and get some groceries.
— Hour and a half walk to end the night. It’s cool too... 5 or 6 degrees while on the walk.


The Pitch Heard ‘Round the World

The day starts like many others. Sun and warmth bring cheer to all. Afternoon thundershowers are forecast but they are not to be... the gods of baseball will not allow it.

Music and BBQ start the festivities. Hundreds gather on the grass and under the trees. Those seeking shade find it. Those wanting to bask in the suns stand around talking with cheer on their voices.

A stirring occurs. Crowds are drawn towards the dunk tank. Like a cathedral with the bell ringing atop its spire, it draws them in. Like an afternoon game in Fenway Park, when Fall is around the corner and playoff excitement builds, the people head to the site in a feverishly hypnotic state. It’s in the air... an historical moment is coming.

With hundreds lined around the tank to watch, dozens walk up to take their shots. Unknown staff members are dropped into the water with a mighty splash and rounds of applause.

Many potential throwers wait with tickets in hand. They plan to take their shot when the greatest attraction steps to the plate. Murmurs go through the crowd that the boss will take his turn in the dunk tank. Some even say he’ll do it in full police uniform. Sightings are reported with every passing minute. Hysteria builds as word is he’ll take his place within the tank at 1:00. Watches are checked and throwers squirm with anticipation.

As the clock ticks closer to the big showdown of boss versus employee, swaggering starts. Bold proclamations of pitching abilities run through the crowd.

The moment arrives and the boss does indeed enter the tank... and indeed in full uniform. Excited throwers run for the line, wanting their chance at putting him in his rightful place... beneath the waterline.

Great athletes bend to the pressure. Balls are tossed wildly and the boss remains dry. One of the people who proclaimed themselves to be a good pitcher walks to the mound and drops the boss on the second pitch. A few pitches later, excitement builds as the top half of the target’s circle is chopped off with the force of the throw. Nervousness grows as worry of the premature end of the competition builds. But it’s decided the target still works without this piece, and the throwing continues.

A friend leans over asking if I’ll join in the competition. Shy of the crowd and concern with my shoulder bring a shake of my head. Since I ended my playing days (some six years ago) my shoulder has never really rebounded. It pains me to put my right hand on back of my head and I still can’t often sleep on my right side. Loose crackling often accompanies any rotation of the joint. I joke that I’d need twenty minutes to warm up before I could legitimately throw a ball.

Still, others continue in the throwing process. Some loop balls in, missing by a fraction of an inch. Others drop the boss into the water with cheers of the crowd. And a friend goes up, misses on all three attempts, and comes back with a smile saying “well at least I gave it a shot.”

Those words spur me on. Would I regret standing back and thinking of what could have been? Can my shoulder take the effort without warm up? It’s time to step up to the plate... or... in this case... the mound.

I walk to the back of the line.

Nervously, I await my time. Not nerves of the throw to come but of the idea of being on display. What if I throw three balls into the dirt? What if I loop one beyond the backstop and into the bushes? I’ve spoken of my times playing ball but none of these people have ever seen those days... my image could be tarnished forever and all my co-workers will think I have no athleticism what-so-ever.

But it’s too late, I’m here and soon to throw. I feel the eyes watching me even before my turn arrives.

I stride up to the mound. “Come on Charlie” comes from the background. A familiar voice linking me to the cartoon character some lovingly tag me. In fact, it’s not until I write this story that I think of the irony of how Charlie Brown was in fact the pitcher on his little league team. And here I am, an infielder, taking the mound... I in fact am Charlie Brown.

But these thoughts don’t enter my mind. I take the three balls my money buys, Palm two of them in my left hand, and hold the third in my right. The boss calls out... “Be nice Chris.” I block his words out.

In my hand, the ball feels right. It’s like a missed friend. The nerves calm, the crowd disappears, and I go into an easy motion and release.

A few inches right of the target. Not an embarrassing first try.

I take the second ball into my hand and peer into my target. A flip on my fingers tosses the ball a few inches into the air and it drops back into my waiting hand with ease. It’s a move done without thought. Many ball players do it. To think of it, I suppose it’s done to simply get a feel for the ball and to relax the hand and arm. Tightness is the enemy of a pitcher, even as an infielder, I know that.

As the ball lands back within my grasp, I begin my windup. It’s all in slow motion within my mind’s eye. The slight tuck of the left hand, ball still grasped within it. The backward motion of the right arm. A pause as it reaches the right hip and the slight turn of the wrist. Then the release... having the weight shift from one leg to the other... bringing the arm around... clearing the left side first and then bringing around the right... shoulder... elbow... wrist... fingers. Feeling the ball as it escapes and heads towards target... and even the follow through as the right arm chases the left.

The ball hurtles towards the target and, as it goes, all is quiet... slow... at peace.

Life comes back to the moment on contact, a crashing crack of ball hitting target... dead centre. The target smashing from it’s foundation... the boss’s perch becoming unhinged... the boss dropping into the water as a white blur... the splash of the water spewing out onto the grass.

The white piece of target flutters into the air... the metal trigger pokes out at a new angle... and the boss picks the ball out of the water of his tank, and tosses it back at me with disgust.

Cheers go up from the crowd... laughter and applause mix into the warm sun of the day... and organizers of the event step up to the mangled piece of machinery for inspection.

With that throw, the day ends. The tank can go no further. Further applause... then some teasing as I sheepishly walk back out of the spotlight. “Way to go!” “You broke it!” “Now we have to go back to work!”

One of the pitchers gives me a high five. I see some smiles and approving smiles from others. And I walk back, out of the spotlight, reputation as an athlete in tact.

I stride away from the field of battle with admiration adorned upon me by friends and well wishers. In a short time I’ll receive an e-mail of congratulations and pride from those friends that prodded me into the event... but as I walk away, trying to maintain the perception of indifference. I hear another voice... this coming from within... the voice is that of... my shoulder.

“What the hell was that??? Are you trying to kill me???” A tingling from bicep to neck warns me to never do that again. And I walk on quietly, nodding thanks to others as I pass.

Making It Up As I Go Along #284

MONDAY...
— Laundry day for the holiday. After that I have supper with Sheila and her friend. Hour plus walk goes a slightly different route to change things up.

TUESDAY...
— Scrubs in the morning... the DVD of the show that is.
— Work is okay... I walk twice at work, once alone at supper and the second time at break with Lisa and Josee.
— My stomach feels a little off by the tail end of work. I get some groceries on the way home and don’t go for a night walk. I decide to rest up and go to bed a bit earlier. It’s cool out tonight anyway, so if I’m a touch under the weather, I shouldn’t go out breaking a sweat.

WEDNESDAY...
— Not feeling super today but go to work all the same and get through alright. I work in TC AFIS for a change. The big transformer in AFIS buzzes too much... I needed to get away for a day, it’s like working under power lines!
— Due to the way I feel, I skip the walk again tonight. Like last night, it’s cool out and I think a cool night sweat would be playing with trouble.

THURSDAY...
— Movie in the morning and a few e-mails. I’m up a bit early to try to get on track for a very early rise Friday. It’s day shift tomorrow because of the staff golf tournament.
— Work is okay... we take off a bit early to get home for the early morning thing. Blah.

FRIDAY...
— Long day due to two hours sleep and an early wake to go to work on dayshift. Lucky it’s not for long. In for about three hours and then it’s off to the golf tournament. It’s hot today too... 38 with the humidity. We play okay but the heat wears us down as a team. Linda, Michelle and Carole are the team mates. I talk with several others (including Sheila and Laura and Jonathan and Derek) after and during the meal. Then it’s home for a very tired night.

SATURDAY...
— Quiet day. I actually get up early (around 4:30 or 5:00). I snooze a bit in front of the TV until 6:30 and then get back to bed for another three hours. Not ideal. Six episodes of The Office on DVD and some UFC fighting from London on TV.


Cats (Not the Musical)
The cat! Is there any more evil domesticated animal on the planet? I think not. Although cats can be so evil and moody that they’re entertaining. I suppose that’s what make them pets that we tend to rather than meals that we cook up on holidays.

I’ve personally had extending relationships with only two cats. There’s Baby... the darling of my aunt Sylvia. I’ve house sat for Wayne and Sylvia several times, having to feed their ‘baby’, Baby for days or even a few weeks at a time.

Baby is the typical cat. When she wants attention, she comes to you and craves it. Little “rrra” style meows beg for a rub of the ears. And she would always want you around at night, either so she could share the bed or jump up on a window perch, where she can overlook her domain... with you, a loyal subject... beneath her.

But then Baby would also become psycho cat. Not thirty seconds after she comes to you purring and looking for love, she’ll swat your hand and leave a little trickle of red welling up from your wounds. Expletives often follow such an encounter. Leave it to Baby... she’ll turn on you with the blink of an eye.

Friends have often told me their cat stories. Josee, a co-worker, recently tried to get me to take her cat. A 19 year old that’s “looking for love”. Sounds nice enough except for the fact that this animal sleeps most of the day and then meows loudly through the night. Josee’s family can’t sleep because this cat is basically screaming it’s, as Josee puts it, “Death Meows.” What a delightful pet.

Laura has also told a cat tale or two. Her cat is up around 20 years old too and you can tell, through the passion in the way she tells the tales, that Laura truly hates her cat. Although I should qualify the hate as being that of an entertaining hatred.

Laura has often told us how she plans to stop feeding the cat on one of those occasions when the rest of her family are away for a few weeks. The best stories of her epic cat battles again, deal with a meow that is unleashed from the depths of hell. In Laura’s case, it’s when the cat is hungry and looking to be fed. This seems to most often happen when Laura is trying to sleep in the wee morning hours. The cat will stand outside her door and let out a blood curdling “meeeerroooowwww”. Witnessing Laura’s own personal version of the meow is worth the price of admission in itself. She’ll then go on to tell us how she stomps out of the bed, swings the door open, and proceeds to kick the cat down over the stairs. All told with a smile on her face... and since the cat remains alive at such a ripe old age, I’m sure also told with a degree of exaggeration. But it is a fine example of how much cats can mess with our heads.

The main cat of my dealings has been Ebby. Aunt Ruby and Uncle Lee’s mammoth feline who ruled her world with loving disdain for all. Word has it that Ebby started out a normal size. She ventured into Ruby and Lee’s life and took over from the other cat, Oreo. That is to say, when the food was placed in the bowls, Ebby would become the bully and proceed to eat both her share and that of the older Oreo. By the time I first met her, Ebby was a 25 pound mass of fur. I, like most others who first happen upon her, thought she was a stuffed toy. Perched upon a sofa, perfectly still, you’d spot Ebby and venture over to rub her soft fur. Then a great swat of a paw would shoot out from under her form, harmlessly batting you away. The fact she was declawed made such encounters laughable.

Ebby would do everything possible to show it was her way or no way. Sitting in a chair on the phone meant you were to play with her. She’d plop down at your feet wanting to be gently pushed and stepped on. Occasional bites would remind you who’s the boss.

Bedtime, you remained at her service. Too big to jump straight up to the bed, she’d swat at the mattress and wait for you to lift her up. At Ruby’s house, I shifted over a chair... giving her the step she needed to make it to the bed on her own. But, months later and with Ruby and Lee out of town, Ebby took over my home. The bed situation become more and more a battle of wills for power. It began as Ebby hitting the mattress and then standing up against the side of the bed to be lifted up. Near the end of her stay, though, she’d hit the bed and then back away just far enough so that I couldn’t reach over the side and get her. It got to a point where I eventually had to shut my door to her entirely. This would leave her batting at the obstruction... and shoving her paw underneath, feeling the air inside my room in horror movie fashion. It left you feeling like a trapped mouse only millimeters from capture as you plaster yourself up against the wall in fear.

Ebby would also go where she wasn’t allowed. Always with the look of complete understanding of the situation but the desire to show you that she’s the one calling the shots. The most blatant of such situations being when she stood next to my coffee table, glowered over at me in a “watch this” manner. Waiting for me to tell her “don’t you dare!” And then she proceeded to leap up onto the coffee table and settle down for a nap within the forbidden zone. When I rushed over and grabbed her down, she walked away, not so much irritated but pleased with a mission successfully accomplished.

Ebby has since died. But only a few weeks ago, during one of my late night neighbourhood walks, I happened upon this massive cat. It just sat there in the middle of a road and stared at me as I passed by. It’s colourings were identical to Ebby’s... and how many 25 pound cats are out there anyway?

I walked by, almost tempted to stop and call her name. Cats, they can control your lives even from beyond the grave.