Was it tempting fate to post about the fact that the snow was almost gone? Or was it the fact that Michael has been wishing that there would be snow on the ground for his birthday next week? There is of course no such reason for it, but the reality is that over the weekend and Monday/Tuesday we had about 72 hours of snow. Not big fluffy flakes, but tiny pin head kind of flakes. But when it’s been falling for that amount of time, my god does it build up?!
Of course it started whilst we were in Edmonton on the weekend. Sunday morning we awoke and were thinking about what we’d like to do before we went back. As we enjoyed our breakfast we heard that there was a snow storm predicted all the way from Calgary through to Fort McMurray. Deciding that discretion would be the better part of valour, we got in the car and drove, with a commitment that if we got an hour out of Edmonton and the roads were too bad that we would then turn around and stay the night.
The roads were pretty good and we were travelling between 90 and a hundred clicks for hours. It was when we turned north up Highway 3 that things started to get a bit slower. In the main, driver behaviour was good and with the conditions being what they were, I wasn’t taking any chances with overtaking, so if someone in front of me was doing 80, that’s what I did until there was a really really really safe chance to go past them (I think I overtook two vehicles) or they took a different route.
Apr 23, 2008
Fit n Firm
So for the last 12 weeks I have participated in a program that the local equivalent of TAFE has been running called Fit n Firm. The result has been watching my eating habits and a lot of time spent on the elliptical trainer in the basement.
Tonight was the final measurement. The results? I’ve lost 15 pounds (yes, I’ve noted before that although we’re in a metric country, they’re still sometimes a little backward). I lost cm off my waist and 4 off my hips and improved my reach (in a stretch out and touch the toes sense) by 10 cm.
Overall, I’ve been really happy with my success. I’ve actually managed to buy a pair of shorts a size smaller than normal and for the first time in a very long time, bought a t-shirt that was a medium rather than a large. But there’s still room for improvement!
Tonight was the final measurement. The results? I’ve lost 15 pounds (yes, I’ve noted before that although we’re in a metric country, they’re still sometimes a little backward). I lost cm off my waist and 4 off my hips and improved my reach (in a stretch out and touch the toes sense) by 10 cm.
Overall, I’ve been really happy with my success. I’ve actually managed to buy a pair of shorts a size smaller than normal and for the first time in a very long time, bought a t-shirt that was a medium rather than a large. But there’s still room for improvement!
Apr 19, 2008
Suicide Drive
As I sit in a hotel room, waiting for four young children to depart to the land of nod (or sleepy bo-bos) and Caroline parties with her ringette team, I find myself with that wonderful confluence of events ... some time to write, and something to write about. Even though it’s small, I decided that I should capture it.
I was driving with the kids today, having finally managed to get them into the car as we attempted to get to Caroline’s ringette game somewhere near the front end of the game (she had wisely gone on ahead with team-mates) and given I didn’t really know exactly where I was going, i wasn’t perhaps paying quite the attention to the road that i might normally.
I pulled up at an intersection and looked at the arrow on the sign above me that clearly indicated that I was in a lane that could only make a left hand turn. No problem there, left was the direction that I wanted to go in. So I reached into those somewhat dormant recesses of my mind that relate back to the study I did to get my Canadian license and thought, “one way road onto one way road, you can make a left hand turn against the red light, just as you normally can for a right hand turn.
Now because I was on a one way road, I was against the left hand curb of the road, rather than the island as I would have been had I been on a divided road. Which meant of course that because I was turning onto another one way road, I hugged the curb just as if I was turning left at anytime with care back home.
I made the turn and casually started accelerating. There was no traffic so I was nice and relaxed. That relaxed feeling wasn’t a long-term friend though, it had no intention of hanging around. It really started to flee at about the point in time when I realised that there was a small red sedan travelling in the lane next to me on my right. Of course, that in itself wasn’t so bad. It was the fact that it was travelling toward me that gave me pause. That and the really strange look that I could see on the other driver’s face as he looked at me.
Because of course, in Canada, when someone is driving towards you on the road, they are supposed to go past you on your left, not your right! And when I think about it from his perspective, he was actually driving on a divided road. A road that consisted of 6 lanes, three either side of a substantial traffic island. And given he was in the middle lane of his three, there was no way in hell that there should have been another vehicle heading toward him on his right!
Fortunately there was a hotel on the corner and so i quickly aborted my suicide drive and decided to pull into their carpark, traverse it, pull back onto the road that I turned left from and try again. This time I managed to wait for the lights and make my left hand turn to the far side of the intersection.
On the bright side, the kids didn’t even notice that something was wrong!
I was driving with the kids today, having finally managed to get them into the car as we attempted to get to Caroline’s ringette game somewhere near the front end of the game (she had wisely gone on ahead with team-mates) and given I didn’t really know exactly where I was going, i wasn’t perhaps paying quite the attention to the road that i might normally.
I pulled up at an intersection and looked at the arrow on the sign above me that clearly indicated that I was in a lane that could only make a left hand turn. No problem there, left was the direction that I wanted to go in. So I reached into those somewhat dormant recesses of my mind that relate back to the study I did to get my Canadian license and thought, “one way road onto one way road, you can make a left hand turn against the red light, just as you normally can for a right hand turn.
Now because I was on a one way road, I was against the left hand curb of the road, rather than the island as I would have been had I been on a divided road. Which meant of course that because I was turning onto another one way road, I hugged the curb just as if I was turning left at anytime with care back home.
I made the turn and casually started accelerating. There was no traffic so I was nice and relaxed. That relaxed feeling wasn’t a long-term friend though, it had no intention of hanging around. It really started to flee at about the point in time when I realised that there was a small red sedan travelling in the lane next to me on my right. Of course, that in itself wasn’t so bad. It was the fact that it was travelling toward me that gave me pause. That and the really strange look that I could see on the other driver’s face as he looked at me.
Because of course, in Canada, when someone is driving towards you on the road, they are supposed to go past you on your left, not your right! And when I think about it from his perspective, he was actually driving on a divided road. A road that consisted of 6 lanes, three either side of a substantial traffic island. And given he was in the middle lane of his three, there was no way in hell that there should have been another vehicle heading toward him on his right!
Fortunately there was a hotel on the corner and so i quickly aborted my suicide drive and decided to pull into their carpark, traverse it, pull back onto the road that I turned left from and try again. This time I managed to wait for the lights and make my left hand turn to the far side of the intersection.
On the bright side, the kids didn’t even notice that something was wrong!
Apr 12, 2008
(S)no(w) More
Or the big melt. As much fun as the snow has been, it is kind of nice to see it slowly retreating across the yard, revealing the all but dead and brown, though not lifeless lawn beneath. I think the departure of the snow is quite possibly even more fascinating than its arrival.
The snow falling is beautiful, but the build up of it isn’t particularly interesting. The melt however is a different story altogether. I was driving home the other day and noted that one particular road that I was traveling on was white on one shoulder and completely barren of snow on the other. The roofs are similar and it becomes quite apparent that it only takes a little bit of a lee to create an environment in which the snow will hold out for a few more days than where it exposed to more direct sunlight.
One of the more unexpected things that I have noticed is that the area around the bases of trees seems to become devoid of snow quicker than the areas further out. I have no idea why. Perhaps the trees are getting thirsty with the burst of energy that will be required for spring. After all, I would have thought that in the more shaded environment that this place provides, the snow would have lasted longer here. Or perhaps there simply isn’t as much snow there to begin with because the branches restrict the amount that manages to accumulate there.
And in the larger accumulations on the side of the road, the pattern in which it melts also appears to relate to the aspect in which it sits in relation to the sun’s path. In some instances it appears to melt out from the bottom. And so ledges form at the edge of the bank that are undermined as the snow melts out from beneath them.
Other than that, there is of course the appearing garbage and dirt that you’ve carefully hidden away for the winter months. Nothing a little cleaning up won’t help!
The snow falling is beautiful, but the build up of it isn’t particularly interesting. The melt however is a different story altogether. I was driving home the other day and noted that one particular road that I was traveling on was white on one shoulder and completely barren of snow on the other. The roofs are similar and it becomes quite apparent that it only takes a little bit of a lee to create an environment in which the snow will hold out for a few more days than where it exposed to more direct sunlight.
One of the more unexpected things that I have noticed is that the area around the bases of trees seems to become devoid of snow quicker than the areas further out. I have no idea why. Perhaps the trees are getting thirsty with the burst of energy that will be required for spring. After all, I would have thought that in the more shaded environment that this place provides, the snow would have lasted longer here. Or perhaps there simply isn’t as much snow there to begin with because the branches restrict the amount that manages to accumulate there.
And in the larger accumulations on the side of the road, the pattern in which it melts also appears to relate to the aspect in which it sits in relation to the sun’s path. In some instances it appears to melt out from the bottom. And so ledges form at the edge of the bank that are undermined as the snow melts out from beneath them.
Other than that, there is of course the appearing garbage and dirt that you’ve carefully hidden away for the winter months. Nothing a little cleaning up won’t help!
Apr 3, 2008
Seasons
We've reached that time of year here when the seasons are starting to change again. There's signs that winter is coming to a close. That means that the snow is melthing (though having said that it was snowing again today ... hey it's only April after all)
But the signs are there and I am having trouble deciding what to call the next season. it's got to be one of two things really. I mean when the winter is this long, is there really any point in dividing what's left up into 3 seasons. I'm opting for one of the following two titles:
Brown
Let's face it, with the snow melting, and with grit having been distributed throughout the winter and with the grass that is now appearing having been covered for months, it is the dominant colour. It's probably not really appropriate because we know that the grass does actually turn green.
Roadworks
They haven't started just yet, but its only a matter of time. With the roads covered all winter, the rest of the year becomes the time to do the maintenance. So yes, I think that really is the two seasons that we'll be having up here. Winter and Roadworks.
But the signs are there and I am having trouble deciding what to call the next season. it's got to be one of two things really. I mean when the winter is this long, is there really any point in dividing what's left up into 3 seasons. I'm opting for one of the following two titles:
Brown
Let's face it, with the snow melting, and with grit having been distributed throughout the winter and with the grass that is now appearing having been covered for months, it is the dominant colour. It's probably not really appropriate because we know that the grass does actually turn green.
Roadworks
They haven't started just yet, but its only a matter of time. With the roads covered all winter, the rest of the year becomes the time to do the maintenance. So yes, I think that really is the two seasons that we'll be having up here. Winter and Roadworks.
Circus of the air
It seems that even when I do manage to actually write something, I'm getting slacker at posting them! At least they make it here eventually.
----------
Yes, our blissful time back home has come to a close and so once again I find myself in the skies between Australia and Canada with what can only be described as more than adequate time in which to record some thoughts.
It’s taken me a couple of hours to pull the lap top out because quite simply, by the time that we managed to get on the plane in Adelaide, I was well ready to turn around and go back to bed.
Any day that starts with getting four kids out of bed in the proximity of 4am after getting yourself to bed at midnight is never going to be a great day. Add to that the emotional trauma of fare welling everything that is good in life to travel back to the other side of the world (particularly when that part hasn’t exactly been winning awards as far as family delight is concerned) and sure enough, you have a recipe for a situation that borders on stressful.
And of course, when you’ve beaten and battled your way from the trenches to the airport in time to actually be able to board the first of the four planes that you have to catch, what you really want to find out is that the computer system that is responsible for check-in,. seat allocation and baggage tracking is being electronically challenged (or substitute the past tense of a four letter word that possibly rhymes with duck); because that was the start of our day today. But that’s okay because we only had some 26 hours together to look forward to beyond that. And as I said to Dad, “I’d rather the computer that dishes out the tickets malfunctions than the one that flies the plane.”
And things always improve remarkably from these challenging situations don’t they? Because to quote the song, “Things can only get better …”
Yeah, of course they do.
Well, bollocks.
Because I’m sure if that had been true then at the point that we go to the stage of allocating seats, we wouldn’t have discovered that we were one luggage tag short and then, when we finally got on a plane, all children would have sat quietly in the first seat that they came across without any discussion as to who had sat near the window last time and therefore had future rights to that particular piece of real estate.
Of course, there does always tend to be a point where things finally turn for the better and given the start to the day, I was on the lookout for that point. I can however assure you that it wasn’t at any point during the transition in Sydney where our mostly agreeable children (who admittedly have had almost as little sleep as ourselves) were almost to a child decidedly unhelpful and so of course Caroline and I were saddled up like a couple of pack horses bound for a trek of epic duration (oh wait, we were).
We did eventually manage to get on the plane (for another round of musical seating desires) and thought that we might now manage to get everything settled down and underway. After all, there’s those neat seat-back entertainment units to baby-sit the kids for the 13 and a half hours that we’ll be in the air.
Which would be great if they actually worked; because yes, we managed to get our three boys in one of those rows on the plane where there’s been a minor technical hitch and thus their screens are going to be nothing more than an unreflective mirror for the next 13 and a half hours. Did I mention that this would go on for thirteen and a half hours!?
And I find it mildly amusing to have heard a conversation between the person sitting on the other side of the aisle from me and the cabin crew as to how to go about getting the reading light for the seat turned off given that every time the activated theirs, the light 3 rows behind theirs flicked on and off. Of course, I try to ignore the nagging doubts that it might raise in the mind of a sane around, if they can’t get the light switches to work the right lights and the entertainment system is just a little bit broke … exactly can one expect from the auto pilot … (but like I said, a sane person would ignore those questions).
But to close for today, I think we need a lighter note, something that isn’t quite likely to lead to wrist slitting mayhem. And so:
Quote of the day from Emily as she peeks out the window at 30,000 feet and gazes upon the clouds, “Wow we’re up high!”
----------
Yes, our blissful time back home has come to a close and so once again I find myself in the skies between Australia and Canada with what can only be described as more than adequate time in which to record some thoughts.
It’s taken me a couple of hours to pull the lap top out because quite simply, by the time that we managed to get on the plane in Adelaide, I was well ready to turn around and go back to bed.
Any day that starts with getting four kids out of bed in the proximity of 4am after getting yourself to bed at midnight is never going to be a great day. Add to that the emotional trauma of fare welling everything that is good in life to travel back to the other side of the world (particularly when that part hasn’t exactly been winning awards as far as family delight is concerned) and sure enough, you have a recipe for a situation that borders on stressful.
And of course, when you’ve beaten and battled your way from the trenches to the airport in time to actually be able to board the first of the four planes that you have to catch, what you really want to find out is that the computer system that is responsible for check-in,. seat allocation and baggage tracking is being electronically challenged (or substitute the past tense of a four letter word that possibly rhymes with duck); because that was the start of our day today. But that’s okay because we only had some 26 hours together to look forward to beyond that. And as I said to Dad, “I’d rather the computer that dishes out the tickets malfunctions than the one that flies the plane.”
And things always improve remarkably from these challenging situations don’t they? Because to quote the song, “Things can only get better …”
Yeah, of course they do.
Well, bollocks.
Because I’m sure if that had been true then at the point that we go to the stage of allocating seats, we wouldn’t have discovered that we were one luggage tag short and then, when we finally got on a plane, all children would have sat quietly in the first seat that they came across without any discussion as to who had sat near the window last time and therefore had future rights to that particular piece of real estate.
Of course, there does always tend to be a point where things finally turn for the better and given the start to the day, I was on the lookout for that point. I can however assure you that it wasn’t at any point during the transition in Sydney where our mostly agreeable children (who admittedly have had almost as little sleep as ourselves) were almost to a child decidedly unhelpful and so of course Caroline and I were saddled up like a couple of pack horses bound for a trek of epic duration (oh wait, we were).
We did eventually manage to get on the plane (for another round of musical seating desires) and thought that we might now manage to get everything settled down and underway. After all, there’s those neat seat-back entertainment units to baby-sit the kids for the 13 and a half hours that we’ll be in the air.
Which would be great if they actually worked; because yes, we managed to get our three boys in one of those rows on the plane where there’s been a minor technical hitch and thus their screens are going to be nothing more than an unreflective mirror for the next 13 and a half hours. Did I mention that this would go on for thirteen and a half hours!?
And I find it mildly amusing to have heard a conversation between the person sitting on the other side of the aisle from me and the cabin crew as to how to go about getting the reading light for the seat turned off given that every time the activated theirs, the light 3 rows behind theirs flicked on and off. Of course, I try to ignore the nagging doubts that it might raise in the mind of a sane around, if they can’t get the light switches to work the right lights and the entertainment system is just a little bit broke … exactly can one expect from the auto pilot … (but like I said, a sane person would ignore those questions).
But to close for today, I think we need a lighter note, something that isn’t quite likely to lead to wrist slitting mayhem. And so:
Quote of the day from Emily as she peeks out the window at 30,000 feet and gazes upon the clouds, “Wow we’re up high!”
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