Since we left Australia, there's something that we haven't quite managed to get around to doing. If you've seen some of the photos, there's a small chance that you might have picked it up. Of course there's a good chance that you haven't taken any notice either.
Michael and Sam haven't had a haircut. I attempted to fix that a couple of weeks ago, but with limited time, I gave up after about the third hair place because there was no way we were going to get through it before they had to be at ringette.
Other than having really long hair, it was a pain in the proverbial with Sam if for no other reason than his hair seemed to work its way out from under his helmet and into his eyes (a head band soon fixed that but don't tell him I told you). But it wasn't really that much of an on-going prospect and so it was time for them to get a haircut. And I volunteered to take them.
I had asked Sam if he'd like his short at the back like mine and he was fine with that. Michael was a little more reserved and decided that he'd like to see Sam's hair before he committed.
So Caroline dropped us off and I took Michael and Sam into the hairdressers. There wasn't a whole lot of English being spoken in there, but that was no reason to be concerned. I outlined what I was looking for with Sam's haircut, a number three at the back and some length left on top.
Part of me thought that maybe it would be a good idea to do this in stages, but that number three was ripped straight up the back of his head and there was no going back.
When it was done, Michael decided that he too would go down the same path. And so we have two boys with very short hair. By the time that it was finished, I looked at the floor and it looked like there'd been a Barbie massacre ... all those long golden locks on the floor.
Photos to come
Oct 30, 2007
Oct 26, 2007
Red Rover on Ice
Yes, I'm a kid with a new toy, but this was taken tonight and I thought I'd share for all of you back home
Oct 25, 2007
yes, its sideways
ok, so this is sideways, but its damn cute, so turn your head and have a look (and I promise not to flood this with video!)
Oct 23, 2007
Ice Ice Baby
Just seeing if this works ... if it does, here's some video of one of the first skating lessons :o)
Pumpkin Fun
One of the best (and most anticipated) things about getting to live overseas is getting to participate in new traditions and cultural experiences. I can't say that I'd given it a lot of thought before leaving home but and I guess that to some extent that's because as a commonwealth predominantly anglo-saxon country I guess I didn't expect things to be overly different to home.
It's not like when we lived in Singapore and found out about the amazing traditions like the Festival of the Hungry Ghost. Having said that we'll embrace anything that looks like it's going to be a bit of fun. And so as the end of October drawers near, we are getting into the Halloween spirit in a way that we've previously only seen on TV.
We really started on Saturday night with a Halloween masquerade ball with a part of the Suncor organisation. All I can say is that when it comes to dressing up, I am a rank amateur! Then on Sunday we had some help from some locals to really get into the swing of things. They invited us around to carve pumpkins!
It was certainly an initiation over and above what I would have expected. Of course when you think about it, it makes sense that there’s patterns and specialist tools etc to help you carve your pumpkin but when you’ve given it no thought, its a big surprise.
I was fine with the decorative carving bit, but like the kids, wasn't interested at all in the de-gutting of the things.
It's not like when we lived in Singapore and found out about the amazing traditions like the Festival of the Hungry Ghost. Having said that we'll embrace anything that looks like it's going to be a bit of fun. And so as the end of October drawers near, we are getting into the Halloween spirit in a way that we've previously only seen on TV.
We really started on Saturday night with a Halloween masquerade ball with a part of the Suncor organisation. All I can say is that when it comes to dressing up, I am a rank amateur! Then on Sunday we had some help from some locals to really get into the swing of things. They invited us around to carve pumpkins!
It was certainly an initiation over and above what I would have expected. Of course when you think about it, it makes sense that there’s patterns and specialist tools etc to help you carve your pumpkin but when you’ve given it no thought, its a big surprise.
I was fine with the decorative carving bit, but like the kids, wasn't interested at all in the de-gutting of the things.
Oct 20, 2007
nine
During the past week, our little man Sam turned 9. So I thought that it was only fitting that I sit my butt down and write a little about the number two son. (I actually did this a couple of days ago, but then managed to lose the lot … always a wonderful thing).
Sam is a delight (well most of the time). He’s distinctly different from his brothers and the child most likely to dish out a hug. Sam takes great delight in surprising me with crushing hugs. And I of course, never complain about that.
The other day, one of the other Aussie Mums over here said to us, “You know I can’t quite work Sam out. Every time I think that I’ve got him pegged, he surprises me and I realise that I don’t have it yet.”
I think that’s very true of Sam and in many ways he could have been a Gemini as he switches from what I perceive to be his usual generous and easy going manner to the little guy who’s picking on his younger siblings or berating his mother for a minor infraction of what he perceives as common sense and decency (usually a sure indication that he’s over-tired).
On the day of Sam’s birthday, he received a remote control helicopter. Just a little one, that’s supposed to be indoor friendly. When I was leaving for work, the helicopter was on being charged, so I didn’t think to say “don’t fly it outside.” But when I was almost at work, I realised that I had left my phone home and so turned around to go get it. I’d probably been out of the house for about 40 minutes. Of course as I came in the door I learnt that the helicopter had been taken outside for a maiden flight.
Sam, being generous as he is, had allowed Michael to be the one to try it out for him. It flew. Landing seemed to be the problem. Well, not so much landing as the location for it. Michael managed to land it on the roof, which is of course now a rather tall prospect compared to what I am used to at home. And given that we are new to town, I am yet to have gone down the path of procuring a ladder with sufficient reach to make it to the top of the house.
Now if this had been any other child in the family, a) they wouldn’t have allowed someone else to have the first turn and b) they would have been so distraught and angry that I would have been confronted by a screaming ball of hysteria the moment that I walked in the door. But Sam was calm and philosophical, accepting the fact that he’d said that Michael could have first turn and with that ultimate childhood faith in his father to get it back for him (given that it’s days later now and will be the first chance that I get to borrow a ladder, I really need to try and do that for him today … when I finally get out of the office). It’s one of those ways in which Sam surprises you.
But Sam is also still the little guy who is afraid to give some things ago because he feels that he won’t be good enough for them. Sometimes, he thinks that its better not to go out and look bad rather than give it a go. And so at the first game of Ringette that he went to, he spent most of the first half sitting on the bench, adamantly refusing to take part. It took me back to the day that I had to drag him into the basketball stadium just to have him sit on the bench. Which we then managed a week later to be getting him on the court (not participating, but on the court) to finally a point where he was happy to go on, as long as he participated in his way (which mainly meant taking the free throws from the side lines). But he did eventually go out on the ice and do his thing (which given his skating ability didn’t really involve chasing the ring or other skaters around the ice).
Sam simply isn’t as competitive as his older brother. He’s happy to be a part of a team and happy to play, but he doesn’t really deal all that well with the fact that everyone doesn’t just get a turn at it. I take this from the basketball experience, where he was quite happy until people would attempt to snatch the ball from him. He wasn’t prepared to stick his hand in and take it off them and really just looked like he wished that people would give him some time to dribble the ball rather than try and snatch it off him (he did get good at hanging onto it when they did try that!)
So he’s more than happy to shoot hoops on his own, or with me where there’s no pressure and the only competition that’s introduced is at his instigating. He likes cricket and I think part of it is that even though there’s a team playing against you, there’s the separation in the way it’s played. It’s not a bad thing. Its just hard for a competitive old bastard like me to watch sometimes!
But all in all, as I started with, Sam is a delight. He loves his maths and does well at school and most of the time is a polite little man who’s fun to be with. Happy Birthday Sam.
Sam is a delight (well most of the time). He’s distinctly different from his brothers and the child most likely to dish out a hug. Sam takes great delight in surprising me with crushing hugs. And I of course, never complain about that.
The other day, one of the other Aussie Mums over here said to us, “You know I can’t quite work Sam out. Every time I think that I’ve got him pegged, he surprises me and I realise that I don’t have it yet.”
I think that’s very true of Sam and in many ways he could have been a Gemini as he switches from what I perceive to be his usual generous and easy going manner to the little guy who’s picking on his younger siblings or berating his mother for a minor infraction of what he perceives as common sense and decency (usually a sure indication that he’s over-tired).
On the day of Sam’s birthday, he received a remote control helicopter. Just a little one, that’s supposed to be indoor friendly. When I was leaving for work, the helicopter was on being charged, so I didn’t think to say “don’t fly it outside.” But when I was almost at work, I realised that I had left my phone home and so turned around to go get it. I’d probably been out of the house for about 40 minutes. Of course as I came in the door I learnt that the helicopter had been taken outside for a maiden flight.
Sam, being generous as he is, had allowed Michael to be the one to try it out for him. It flew. Landing seemed to be the problem. Well, not so much landing as the location for it. Michael managed to land it on the roof, which is of course now a rather tall prospect compared to what I am used to at home. And given that we are new to town, I am yet to have gone down the path of procuring a ladder with sufficient reach to make it to the top of the house.
Now if this had been any other child in the family, a) they wouldn’t have allowed someone else to have the first turn and b) they would have been so distraught and angry that I would have been confronted by a screaming ball of hysteria the moment that I walked in the door. But Sam was calm and philosophical, accepting the fact that he’d said that Michael could have first turn and with that ultimate childhood faith in his father to get it back for him (given that it’s days later now and will be the first chance that I get to borrow a ladder, I really need to try and do that for him today … when I finally get out of the office). It’s one of those ways in which Sam surprises you.
But Sam is also still the little guy who is afraid to give some things ago because he feels that he won’t be good enough for them. Sometimes, he thinks that its better not to go out and look bad rather than give it a go. And so at the first game of Ringette that he went to, he spent most of the first half sitting on the bench, adamantly refusing to take part. It took me back to the day that I had to drag him into the basketball stadium just to have him sit on the bench. Which we then managed a week later to be getting him on the court (not participating, but on the court) to finally a point where he was happy to go on, as long as he participated in his way (which mainly meant taking the free throws from the side lines). But he did eventually go out on the ice and do his thing (which given his skating ability didn’t really involve chasing the ring or other skaters around the ice).
Sam simply isn’t as competitive as his older brother. He’s happy to be a part of a team and happy to play, but he doesn’t really deal all that well with the fact that everyone doesn’t just get a turn at it. I take this from the basketball experience, where he was quite happy until people would attempt to snatch the ball from him. He wasn’t prepared to stick his hand in and take it off them and really just looked like he wished that people would give him some time to dribble the ball rather than try and snatch it off him (he did get good at hanging onto it when they did try that!)
So he’s more than happy to shoot hoops on his own, or with me where there’s no pressure and the only competition that’s introduced is at his instigating. He likes cricket and I think part of it is that even though there’s a team playing against you, there’s the separation in the way it’s played. It’s not a bad thing. Its just hard for a competitive old bastard like me to watch sometimes!
But all in all, as I started with, Sam is a delight. He loves his maths and does well at school and most of the time is a polite little man who’s fun to be with. Happy Birthday Sam.
Oct 16, 2007
Genetic Theory
Following on from my previous genetic theories (which only long time readers of this will be aware of … the bbq and gladwrap genes) I have a new one.
As I’ve walked about Canada, there’s something I’ve noticed. Canadian girls have short legs (yes, that’s a big generalisation). It’s not something I’ve particularly gone out of my way to notice, but as I’ve meandered the streets and stood around in shopping centres as we collect the things we need to survive, I’ve paid passing attention to some of the women.
From my observations to date, compared to what I am used to seeing, Canadian women seem to have short legs when compared to the length of their bodies. And I believe that its genetic.
Here’s my theory:
Canada gets cold. Really really bloody cold (yeah, I can’t wait). They end up with all this snow and ice and stuff on the ground that apparently makes walking somewhat more treacherous than we are used to.
Therefore, a lower centre of gravity might just be a benefit when it comes to keeping one’s feet in these conditions. Shorter legs, lowering the height of your butt would similarly lower your centre of gravity. So I figure this is why the women that I’ve observed have a lower leg to body-length ratio.
It would also assist in minimising pain from slippage because you would fall from a lesser height!
As I’ve walked about Canada, there’s something I’ve noticed. Canadian girls have short legs (yes, that’s a big generalisation). It’s not something I’ve particularly gone out of my way to notice, but as I’ve meandered the streets and stood around in shopping centres as we collect the things we need to survive, I’ve paid passing attention to some of the women.
From my observations to date, compared to what I am used to seeing, Canadian women seem to have short legs when compared to the length of their bodies. And I believe that its genetic.
Here’s my theory:
Canada gets cold. Really really bloody cold (yeah, I can’t wait). They end up with all this snow and ice and stuff on the ground that apparently makes walking somewhat more treacherous than we are used to.
Therefore, a lower centre of gravity might just be a benefit when it comes to keeping one’s feet in these conditions. Shorter legs, lowering the height of your butt would similarly lower your centre of gravity. So I figure this is why the women that I’ve observed have a lower leg to body-length ratio.
It would also assist in minimising pain from slippage because you would fall from a lesser height!
I wished ...
I was driving Emily home from somewhere the other night when we had a conversation that went something like what I’ve captured below.
“Mummy might have another baby Daddy,” she said to me.
“No, I don’t think that’s going to happen Emily,” (I didn’t go into technical details at this point).
“It might Daddy, I wished that Mummy would have a baby girl!”
“Hmmm, well not all wishes come true Emily.”
“And if she did, I’d look after her. I would teach her things and put her to bed and get her dummy for her and feed her. Mummy would have to carry her and do some other things though.”
There was more to it along the lines of what Emily would do if she were to have a little sister, but that’s the nuts and guts of it really. Personally, I’m hoping for a triumph of science over wishes at this stage!
“Mummy might have another baby Daddy,” she said to me.
“No, I don’t think that’s going to happen Emily,” (I didn’t go into technical details at this point).
“It might Daddy, I wished that Mummy would have a baby girl!”
“Hmmm, well not all wishes come true Emily.”
“And if she did, I’d look after her. I would teach her things and put her to bed and get her dummy for her and feed her. Mummy would have to carry her and do some other things though.”
There was more to it along the lines of what Emily would do if she were to have a little sister, but that’s the nuts and guts of it really. Personally, I’m hoping for a triumph of science over wishes at this stage!
Oct 9, 2007
Seven
Yes, this week, Thomas turned seven. I can’t believe it, but then that seems to be the case with every birthday these days and I’m sure that my mother shakes her head when she thinks that I am 30 + that number.
I feel bad that it’s taken me 3 days past our little man’s milestone to get around to writing it and I’ll have to make sure that I take the time to post this (and the other couple of posts that I’ve prepared) so that it’s not another week until I finish the task.
Thomas is a super-dude. Given the start that he’s had with his speech over the seven years, I am constantly amazed at the patience and perseverance he displays as he goes about the tasks that are set for him. I was out watching him at his ice-skating lesson last night and its wonderful to see him starting to glide about the ice, taking off cheekily whenever he get’s a chance to have a little skate rather than stand in line and wait for instruction.
Its representative of the cheeky sense of humour that’s he’s developed thus far. There are of course times when one is tired and it seems that he’s taken things a bit beyond the bearable stage, but its usually hard not to at least have an inwardly grin at his antics (whilst outwardly trying to guide him in to a different place!).
He remains generous and caring in his outlook, to the point that on the night of his birthday when McDonald’s screwed the order for his birthday dinner (resulting in Michael and Sam having no fries) he happily handed over half of his little bag of fries to Sam so that he didn’t miss out (unlike the little mischief who wasn’t about to have a bar of this sharing crap – must take after me, not Caroline, that one). It was simply a precious moment of generosity.
So far Thomas has managed two trips to hospital with blood gushing from him, first his head and then, as recently documented, his thumb. Let’s cross our fingers and hope that seven doesn’t bring any more of those. I’d be quite happy if his one and only ice related injury managed to happen off the ice before he ever knew how to skate!
I feel bad that it’s taken me 3 days past our little man’s milestone to get around to writing it and I’ll have to make sure that I take the time to post this (and the other couple of posts that I’ve prepared) so that it’s not another week until I finish the task.
Thomas is a super-dude. Given the start that he’s had with his speech over the seven years, I am constantly amazed at the patience and perseverance he displays as he goes about the tasks that are set for him. I was out watching him at his ice-skating lesson last night and its wonderful to see him starting to glide about the ice, taking off cheekily whenever he get’s a chance to have a little skate rather than stand in line and wait for instruction.
Its representative of the cheeky sense of humour that’s he’s developed thus far. There are of course times when one is tired and it seems that he’s taken things a bit beyond the bearable stage, but its usually hard not to at least have an inwardly grin at his antics (whilst outwardly trying to guide him in to a different place!).
He remains generous and caring in his outlook, to the point that on the night of his birthday when McDonald’s screwed the order for his birthday dinner (resulting in Michael and Sam having no fries) he happily handed over half of his little bag of fries to Sam so that he didn’t miss out (unlike the little mischief who wasn’t about to have a bar of this sharing crap – must take after me, not Caroline, that one). It was simply a precious moment of generosity.
So far Thomas has managed two trips to hospital with blood gushing from him, first his head and then, as recently documented, his thumb. Let’s cross our fingers and hope that seven doesn’t bring any more of those. I’d be quite happy if his one and only ice related injury managed to happen off the ice before he ever knew how to skate!
A Matter of Taste
You know, when you leave Australia and head over to Canada, you tend to think that it won’t be that different from home. Sure there close to the beast to the south, but it’s a Commonwealth country under the same Queen, so there’s got to be a few similarities, right?
Well when it comes to food, there seems to have been a few key departures from what we consider normal. And these are important departures that you really should be warned about before you leave the country.
Caroline bought a packet of jelly beans so that we could decorate some cakes for Thomas’ birthday. I like jelly beans. I tend to go for the red ones first. But this time, I didn’t, because I’d learnt something since coming to Canada. Over here, red isn’t raspberry. It’s cherry.
Now I don’t like cherries even if they’re real and I doubt very much that cherry flavoured ‘candy’ (or lollies as we are wont to call them) taste anything like real cherries. Regardless, I happen to think they’re disgusting. So I didn’t take a red one. I took a yellow one. No surprise there, it was quite tasty. And the orange one was nice too. Caroline took a green one and I knew from her face that it wasn’t what she’d expected.
I mean, what flavour do you expect when its green (I can see my sister cringing already, she always hated green lollies)? I personally expect lime. Caroline wasn’t about to tell me what it was either, she wanted me to taste for myself. Summoning up the true depths of my courage, I picked one up and bit into it.
Spearmint. Or as it tends to be otherwise known (from the memory that it recalls via association with the flavour) toothpaste. Yum. Not. Jelly beans should never, ever, in any way what-so-ever, taste like toothpaste.
Yep, it’s the little things that remind you you’re not at home!
Well when it comes to food, there seems to have been a few key departures from what we consider normal. And these are important departures that you really should be warned about before you leave the country.
Caroline bought a packet of jelly beans so that we could decorate some cakes for Thomas’ birthday. I like jelly beans. I tend to go for the red ones first. But this time, I didn’t, because I’d learnt something since coming to Canada. Over here, red isn’t raspberry. It’s cherry.
Now I don’t like cherries even if they’re real and I doubt very much that cherry flavoured ‘candy’ (or lollies as we are wont to call them) taste anything like real cherries. Regardless, I happen to think they’re disgusting. So I didn’t take a red one. I took a yellow one. No surprise there, it was quite tasty. And the orange one was nice too. Caroline took a green one and I knew from her face that it wasn’t what she’d expected.
I mean, what flavour do you expect when its green (I can see my sister cringing already, she always hated green lollies)? I personally expect lime. Caroline wasn’t about to tell me what it was either, she wanted me to taste for myself. Summoning up the true depths of my courage, I picked one up and bit into it.
Spearmint. Or as it tends to be otherwise known (from the memory that it recalls via association with the flavour) toothpaste. Yum. Not. Jelly beans should never, ever, in any way what-so-ever, taste like toothpaste.
Yep, it’s the little things that remind you you’re not at home!
Thin Ice
Caroline and all of the boys have taken up ringette this winter and so there has been a large commitment made to ice-time. Its all ramping up and the boys are all starting to have more fun as their ice-skating competence increases.
In addition to the ringette, the boys and Emily have been booked into skating lessons which should hopefully get them moving around the ice with even more confidence and help them to catch up to some of the other kids.
So everyone had been ice-skating except dear old Dad. We were headed into a sports store to get some skates for Caroline ahead of her ringette debut and seeing as it was a Sunday, I went along as well, which thrilled the kids. They were obviously keen to see their father on ice-skates.
At the store, I decided that seeing we were going to be living in this wintery wonderland called Canada for a couple of years, then it might be in my interest to get a little bit better at ice-skating myself. And unlike back home, where the thought of having your own pair of ice skates in the cupboard seems just a little bit whimsical and pointless, over here, hiring skates seems to be unheard of. So I sat my butt down and said to the sales guy, “Get me the cheapest pair of ordinary skates that you can, I won’t be doing much more than the occasional casual skating.”
$180 later, I am the owner of a pair of ice skates. Ouch! Apparently that was the cheapest pair that I could get in that store and I couldn’t be bothered shopping around
Of course, I was really pleased walking through Walmart today to see skates on the shelf for a cool $59. Come in sucker.
All I can say is I’d better really get to love this ice skating thing!
I survived our first session without my precious butt managing to come in contact with the ice, though it was something of a close call. I haven’t managed to get out to see Michael and Sam have their turn, because the one time I did was the day of the thumb incident. But I have managed to see Thomas have a go.
It is so cute! This little guy is all dressed up like a hockey player and at first, can’t skate to save his life, but he’s trying his hardest and improving all the time. He’s actually getting a grasp of the basics and you can see him starting to push off and glide, rather than try and run across the ice like one of his little Aussie mates. And it’s the moments when they think they’ve got it that are the funniest. You can see that they just start to relax that bit and then bam! Hello splatsville. But because they’re all padded up in their gear, they don’t actually get hurt.
Last night they did a ‘power skating’ session. Michael and Sam were on the ice and Sam was waiting due to insufficient equipment (we’ve enough to get two of them on the ice at once, but not three – more scrounging required). They play a game like red-rover (or British Bull Dog) where they have to try and skate across without being touched.
Well in the first game, Michael ended up being one of the last three by lurking around whilst everyone else madly chased each other at great speed across the ice and then basically limping in his own crazy skating style whilst no one was watching. The problem that that created for him was that he had to be one of the three in the middle to start the next game.
So when you can’t really skate and you have to chase down these tiny tackers that blaze around like they have rocket propelled skates, what do you do?
Well obviously you pick on your little brother who’s at the same level as you rather than try to get to someone faster. But it was hilarious. Because Thomas is getting close to as being as good as Michael. But when he saw his big brother try and advance on him … splat! Which of course got Michael excited because his target was now prone, but in his attempt to speed up and nail his quarry … splat! He went down on the ice as well. And so it went over about a third of the ice rink.
Tom would get up and skate for a metre or three and then splat. Michael would get up and start closing the gap and then splat! Man I wished that I had a video camera to capture that, it was absolutely priceless.
But I think my favourite memory of the night is Thomas standing on the ice in front of me, hanging onto the edge of the rink, grinning his missing-front-teeth grin through the face guard of his helmet as we tried to communicate through the perspex that’s there to keep the puck (and probably hockey players as well) from meeting the crowd.
In addition to the ringette, the boys and Emily have been booked into skating lessons which should hopefully get them moving around the ice with even more confidence and help them to catch up to some of the other kids.
So everyone had been ice-skating except dear old Dad. We were headed into a sports store to get some skates for Caroline ahead of her ringette debut and seeing as it was a Sunday, I went along as well, which thrilled the kids. They were obviously keen to see their father on ice-skates.
At the store, I decided that seeing we were going to be living in this wintery wonderland called Canada for a couple of years, then it might be in my interest to get a little bit better at ice-skating myself. And unlike back home, where the thought of having your own pair of ice skates in the cupboard seems just a little bit whimsical and pointless, over here, hiring skates seems to be unheard of. So I sat my butt down and said to the sales guy, “Get me the cheapest pair of ordinary skates that you can, I won’t be doing much more than the occasional casual skating.”
$180 later, I am the owner of a pair of ice skates. Ouch! Apparently that was the cheapest pair that I could get in that store and I couldn’t be bothered shopping around
Of course, I was really pleased walking through Walmart today to see skates on the shelf for a cool $59. Come in sucker.
All I can say is I’d better really get to love this ice skating thing!
I survived our first session without my precious butt managing to come in contact with the ice, though it was something of a close call. I haven’t managed to get out to see Michael and Sam have their turn, because the one time I did was the day of the thumb incident. But I have managed to see Thomas have a go.
It is so cute! This little guy is all dressed up like a hockey player and at first, can’t skate to save his life, but he’s trying his hardest and improving all the time. He’s actually getting a grasp of the basics and you can see him starting to push off and glide, rather than try and run across the ice like one of his little Aussie mates. And it’s the moments when they think they’ve got it that are the funniest. You can see that they just start to relax that bit and then bam! Hello splatsville. But because they’re all padded up in their gear, they don’t actually get hurt.
Last night they did a ‘power skating’ session. Michael and Sam were on the ice and Sam was waiting due to insufficient equipment (we’ve enough to get two of them on the ice at once, but not three – more scrounging required). They play a game like red-rover (or British Bull Dog) where they have to try and skate across without being touched.
Well in the first game, Michael ended up being one of the last three by lurking around whilst everyone else madly chased each other at great speed across the ice and then basically limping in his own crazy skating style whilst no one was watching. The problem that that created for him was that he had to be one of the three in the middle to start the next game.
So when you can’t really skate and you have to chase down these tiny tackers that blaze around like they have rocket propelled skates, what do you do?
Well obviously you pick on your little brother who’s at the same level as you rather than try to get to someone faster. But it was hilarious. Because Thomas is getting close to as being as good as Michael. But when he saw his big brother try and advance on him … splat! Which of course got Michael excited because his target was now prone, but in his attempt to speed up and nail his quarry … splat! He went down on the ice as well. And so it went over about a third of the ice rink.
Tom would get up and skate for a metre or three and then splat. Michael would get up and start closing the gap and then splat! Man I wished that I had a video camera to capture that, it was absolutely priceless.
But I think my favourite memory of the night is Thomas standing on the ice in front of me, hanging onto the edge of the rink, grinning his missing-front-teeth grin through the face guard of his helmet as we tried to communicate through the perspex that’s there to keep the puck (and probably hockey players as well) from meeting the crowd.
Oct 6, 2007
Jasper ... pt 1
Don't get excited, there's no update (well other than this of course). I've managed to type up a couple of things over the last week and they're all sitting on my USB drive waiting for me to upload them. Unfortunately, my USB drive is in Fort McMurray and We're all in Jasper. This weekend is thanksgiving and so we get a long one. We took off from Fort Mac Friday night and overnighted in Edmonton. After a brief shopping stop to pick up a bike for Thomas' birthday and some choice leather goods for Caroline and I, we hit the road again, arriving here at about 3:30pm.
We managed to stroll down most of the main street and stopped at a restaurant for dinner (glad that I had the small steak, because I nearly exploded and I reckon the big one would have been most of the cow that had been carved out of the jacket I bought earlier in the day).
So yeah, this is just to let you know we're alive, we're having fun, we've escaped Fort Mac for the weekend and are looking to a fun day exploring Jasper tomorrow ... hopefully including a bus trip to a glacier. Should be an expensive hoot!
Will post more upon our return from civilisation.
~dave
We managed to stroll down most of the main street and stopped at a restaurant for dinner (glad that I had the small steak, because I nearly exploded and I reckon the big one would have been most of the cow that had been carved out of the jacket I bought earlier in the day).
So yeah, this is just to let you know we're alive, we're having fun, we've escaped Fort Mac for the weekend and are looking to a fun day exploring Jasper tomorrow ... hopefully including a bus trip to a glacier. Should be an expensive hoot!
Will post more upon our return from civilisation.
~dave
Oct 1, 2007
Fall
Fall is here. And given that we are surrounded by trees almost anywhere you look outside of the town itself, it makes for a spectacular view. There seems to be a mixture of poplars and evergreens across the landscape and the poplars are all turning a fantastic shade of gold.
And given that the city is nestled in a valley along the river, some of the drive to work is breathtaking especially at that point that you come over the hill and look down over the valley.
Of course, with the season passing to fall and the year passing the equinox, the days are rapidly growing shorter, so most of the time that I am on my way to work these days, it’s in the dark. And it won’t be long until the drive home is also in the dark. And the lovely golden view is already being peppered with grey as many of the trees have lost all of their leaves completely.
Although I have to wonder at the naming of the season fall. Autumn gives no indication of what to expect, but when I think of fall, it presents me with images of leaves gently drifting down to the ground as they lose their tenuous hold against the winter.
Over here, it seems to be happening so quickly that I think perhaps the season might have been better named dump.
And given that the city is nestled in a valley along the river, some of the drive to work is breathtaking especially at that point that you come over the hill and look down over the valley.
Of course, with the season passing to fall and the year passing the equinox, the days are rapidly growing shorter, so most of the time that I am on my way to work these days, it’s in the dark. And it won’t be long until the drive home is also in the dark. And the lovely golden view is already being peppered with grey as many of the trees have lost all of their leaves completely.
Although I have to wonder at the naming of the season fall. Autumn gives no indication of what to expect, but when I think of fall, it presents me with images of leaves gently drifting down to the ground as they lose their tenuous hold against the winter.
Over here, it seems to be happening so quickly that I think perhaps the season might have been better named dump.
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