Making It Up As I Go Along #453

No More Christmas
Christmas came to an end today.
The last of the shelled nuts cracked, scooped and eaten.

First to go were Walnuts.
The biggest shells
Split in two
Reminding me of the Shell Game as I ate
Wishing for a marble to place under one
Ready to fool an onlooker as I mix and match.

Brazil Nuts went next.
Cracked before prodding
Scooping them out as a castaway with a coconut
Carving the last goodness out as a sculptor with knife and clay.

Hazel Nuts were third.
Always wondering how they’d be roasted
But never taking the time to experiment with heat
And shoving them in greedily as another goes crack.

Almonds follow.
The most common of them all.
With me year round from the store
Yet still a tasty friend to share the holidays with.

And the last is the pecan.
Never a favourite growing up
I’d eat them when all others were no more.
But the taste developed
And it was as if saying goodbye to an old friend
When the last was gone.

And away are the bowls.
Nutcrackers back in the kitchen drawer
The coffee table Christmas reminder
With nothing left to say.



TUESDAY…
--- Stay home from work sick. Feeling better as the day goes but when I go for some groceries at around 3:30, it knocks me down. Light headed walking through the store and dripping with sweat by the time I’m home again.

WEDNESDAY…
--- Had a good night’s sleep with no drugs to get me through… a sign of improvement. Still feel it in my head in the AM but, by suppertime, I’m feeling more myself with just a bit of a cough for the most part.

THURSDAY…
--- Back to work. Hard getting in… feel exhausted just getting there… but once I’m in and eat supper, I improve and, by the end of the night, I’m feeling ok.

FRIDAY…
--- Back to Spring temps. Double digits by this afternoon. Still, I’ll need to bring a winter’s jacket to work tonight as it’s supposed to be back to minus double digits by Saturday morning.
--- Hockey pool stuff before work and then lots of DNA related stuff at work… and like the forecast showed… much colder when I left for home than when I went to work. I need gas for the car but didn’t want to stop going home due to cold and wind. First thing Saturday though… gas time.

SATURDAY…
--- Lunch with Karl. So long warm temps… almost freeze going from his place to the pub.
--- Quiet afternoon at home.

SUNDAY…
--- Win at ball. A good game… wasn’t even close. Go to Nick and Melissa’s afterwards and watch some hockey with the crew there. Outdoor hockey is the big gimmick these days and kind of neat to see from time to time… but it’s a bad game more often than not. The ice conditions were garbage.

MONDAY…
--- Laundry day and I get screwed by Family Day. Go to the grocery store and don’t know, until there, that it’s closed for Family Day. By the way, Family Day is the most vanilla holiday in the country.

Making It Up As I Go Along #452

First Melt
Drippings of Spring outside my window
White blankets tumbling and flowing from rooftops
Wet stalactites collapse from above
Exploding upon the deck
Bombardments outside my patio door.

Crusted walkways become slushy lakes
Footprints cling to melting snow
Collapsing upon themselves
Until only a few rectangular bricks of frost
Sit as islands within a miniature melt water sea.

The world will freeze again.
This being the opening ideas of warmth
Reminding us of days when even the lightest layers
Produce a salty brine upon our skin
But tomorrow will bring great layers of down and fleece

But the glacial like retreat of snow and ice brings hope
Distant memories of warmth appear a little closer to reality
When cars no longer act as meat lockers
When airs breeze sweetly
And grasses softly give with passing steps


MONDAY…
--- How sleepy am I this morning? I wake 12 minutes before my alarm goes off, and actually sleep that last 12 minutes.
--- Work is ok… see Sarah for the first time in weeks… have lunch with Shannon… do my writing after work.

TUESDAY…
--- Tired for much of the day. And cold. Just constantly chilled. But get through work and stay up late to get ready for night shift.

WEDNESDAY…
--- Love the Thai food. But feeling a bit under the weather by this evening… hoping this goes with some sleep.

THURSDAY…
--- Work the night shift sick… that’s not an easy thing. By 4:30 I’m feeling pretty miserable.

FRIDAY…
--- After some sleep I’m feeling somewhat better again. Still take it easy at home and generally feeling better in the evening… although it comes and goes.

SATURDAY…
---Was supposed to have people over for Hockey Day in Canada but cancelled thanks to my cold/flu… feel feverish in the morning and stuffed up all day. I don’t even make it through the Ottawa/Edmonton game, as they’re both just too bad to watch on this day.
--- The meatballs I made several weeks ago are now all gone… yes, the freezer played a roll in it, they weren’t in the fridge for a month… Have to get the slow cooker out again soon.

SUNDAY…
--- Still not great feeling. Stuffed up and more of a cough than before. So it’s in the house taking it easy with video games and movies. Watch the year anniversary of the Vancouver Olympics… still get cold shivers for much of the stuff they showed.

Making It Up As I Go Along #451

Gloves in the Basement
He was one of my heroes. A hockey player… a masked man… Pelle Lindbergh. With a plain white mask, ghostly, an angry brow with black eyes.

I was thirteen and, to that point, the only loss I knew was that of pets. My favourite snail, crushed beneath a neighbour’s foot. My roommate newt, gone of old age after six years. And my first dog, tough as nails but unable to overcome cancer.

I’ve known people to pass on by this age, but these are those on my fringe. For young me, hockey players are immortal. Cards bought with gum show them in snapshot… speeding down the wing, blasting a puck on net, or stretching out to make acrobatic saves.

Lindbergh cards sit pinned against my wall. Lindbergh magazine pictures mingle with a montage of other favourites on another bedroom wall. His masked face staring out at the ongoing action.

Hockey players, for thirteen year olds are immortal. Lose a few teeth. Sprain an ankle. Holding white towels on bleeding foreheads while sitting on the bench between shifts… not even willing to go to the dressing room.

The idea that a hockey player could die never even dawned on me.

Yet while visiting my grandparent’s on a long weekend, Pelle Lindbergh died.

Not understanding the circumstances, I held hope that couldn’t exist. The newscasters say that the car accident left him brain dead. And hearing the distinction… hearing them not plainly saying he has died… I hope. I ask my parents… almost pleading… “Could they fix his brain? Keep his body going until the brain is good again?”

My hope is this injury isn’t much different than those sprained ankles, lost teeth, and bleeding foreheads. If the heart is still pumping and the lungs still breathing, well… he’s alive. And there’s hope.

But brain dead isn’t the same as a few lost teeth. And it’s years later that I find out people in his condition then are kept alive not because of hope of recovery, but to give time for family and friends to come to his side and say goodbye.

And when the final word comes down… that Pelle Lindbergh has died… my image of the indestructible hockey player is gone. And my purchasing of packs of hockey cards changes some… going from collecting those with the best snap shots of action… or of my favourite goalies to search out Pelle’s last card.

And when I get it, I keep it apart from all the rest. In easy reach. Seeing him hunched over, staring intensely at an unseen faceoff. With the haunting difference that sets his card apart from all the rest… a black band across the bottom, displaying the year of his birth followed by the year of his death.

And that’s where it ended. Hockey players became human and Pelle Lindbergh became a distant image of memories on the TV, cards upon my wall, and poster pictures in memoriam.

Until this past year.

This year, Lindbergh returned to me. A book about his life and death, translated from Swedish and bought on Amazon. Written in a back and forth manner. One chapter of his youth in Sweden, followed by a chapter of his final season. A return to happy times of Junior Hockey. Then back to a few weeks before his car accident. His first days as a Philadelphia Flyer. Followed by his last days with the team. Always, I’d make sure to end my night of reading with a happy chapter. Those chapters of his end being too sad to close the book on.

And then the unexpected connection. At Montreal’s Bell Centre on a summer’s day… almost 25 years after his death. Drifting through the basement museum, looking at memorabilia with my father and brother-in-law… there in a corner sat the blocker and catching glove of Pelle Lindbergh. Pieces of equipment I used to stare at on cards and within pictures as a kid. There they are, worn from use, propped up within a glass case. His jersey hung behind them.

Hockey has been a favourite game for me. A pastime watched on TV or played on streets or frozen ponds. I’ve watched some each step of the way through their twenty year careers. Lindbergh was one I never actually watched play often. Philadelphia games rarely came on Newfoundland televisions. Pictures of him peaked my interest and games in which he played on my TV were events. I’d sit and watch quietly and intently… wanting to see the live movements of the goalie who captured my imagination in frozen images on cards and within magazines.

While I’ve seen more of the lives of many other hockey players, the passing of Pelle Lindbergh affected my life more than most anything else that’s happened in hockey. It was my first real lesson in mortality.

I’ve often wondered, even these 25 years later, what kind of career he could have had. Where he would have ranked among the great goaltenders of hockey? How many wins and shutouts would he have had? Would he have won a Stanley Cup?

There are greater hockey legends in the history of the game. But none have meant more to my life than Pelle Lindbergh.



SUNDAY…
--- Take the day off work. Around the house… some TV… then ball. We win 6-5 scoring the winning run with two out in the bottom of the 7th in a 5-5 tie… and it’s the first time I’ve driven in the winning run in such a situation. After some 25 years of ball, you’d think I’d have done that prior to now. But it was fun enough. And played well in the field again.
--- End watching Sons of Anarchy tonight. Good show… all three seasons now complete.

MONDAY…
--- Off work again today. Lots of video games and a bit of TV. Some computer time and not much else but a nap. Six day weekends are nice things.

TUESDAY…
--- Some TV and a nap during the day. Work the night. Pretty steady work.

WEDNESDAY…
--- Work the night shift. Get some Wendy’s on the way in and we get about 15 cm of snow through the day.

THURSDAY…
--- Some TV and cleaning once I’m up around noonish.

FRIDAY…
--- Up early to go get the boys at the airport. Del and Dave arrive on time and we do breakfast at Cora’s. MEC for some shopping… get Shannon for lunch at Dick’s… some groceries and more shopping after that followed by some computer baseball at home and the 67s vs. the Pete’s in Junior hockey. More computer baseball with some drinks end off the night.

SATURDAY…
--- Busy day. Downtown for lunch at the Heart and Crown. Walk over the bridge to Museum of Civilization for 3D Imax. Walk back across for Beavertails and a trip to the mall… then to Louis’ Pizza and bring the goodness home for a meal, some drinks, some video games, and a movie.

SUNDAY…
--- Easy going morning then off to the movies. 127 Hours is good… one scene being quite hard to watch but still very good.
--- Drop Shannon after the movie and grab a bite to eat and watch some hockey at home with Del and Dave. Bring them to the airport and talk to mom and dad during the drive home. Some TV tonight… the update will be posted tomorrow instead of today. Too busy… time to unwind.