Mar 2, 2009
Feb 28, 2009
Jamaica ... half way point
Coming to Jamaica
There’s something about cheap travel that you really have to think about before you indulge in it and that would be the timing of your flights. Because, let’s face it, if you have enough money, you can travel where you want on your own terms and with the best available connections, departures and arrivals.
When you’re a cheap skate (or simply have too many kids) you do things like take the plane that leaves Calgary at 12:30am and arrives in Toronto at 4:30am. And then have the 3 hour wait until the plane departs for Jamaica with tired kids strung out in an airport.
And as with so many of these things, I started this in one place and now find myself finishing it off in a completely different one, both mentally and physically. Often that will mean that the starting portion gets cropped out somewhere in the extraordinarily brief editing process that I use, but today I decided to let it stand, because there is a distinct reversal of emotion from when I started to when I now sit here completing this little piece.
At the time that I started, I was on a plane somewhere between Toronto and Jamaica (Montego Bay to be precise) and so still carried closely and personally the scars that one accumulates with small children gathered in a very public place without access to anything that they actually want to do (ie they have plenty that can be done, but chose for those moment that there is sweet nothing that they want to do.
Whereas at this precise moment in time (2112 hrs on the25th of February for those that care about these things – and probably less now) I am sat upon a reclining wooden chair on the balcony of our accommodation at the FDR resort in Jamaica. I am also at this point on the good side of a reasonable number of Appleton Rums with half a cold red stripe lager beside me to help see me through to the end of the evening and if it is an auspicious evening, possibly even the end of this post, though the fact that I’ve just had to deleted approximately 20 o’s for the second time in as many minutes doesn’t bode well for a coherent culmination to my literary efforts.
We arrived in Jamaica to the pleasant discomfort of being somewhat warm, having dressed at least in part to cope with the departure temperatures of Fort McMurray …-30C.’
Bring on the temperatures that we landed to, +28C
---------
Especially as I am not continuing this 3 days later. I have to say that the rum and noddies got the better of me and I simply wasn’t in a position to continue typing. Fortunately I left myself some notes as to what it was that I was going to write about. One of those is ‘remixed version of the chicken dance’ and for a rew moments there I was a little mystified as to what on earth that meant. I have however just remembered. They have a section here at the resort where they put a kids buffet on every night so that you can feed your kids before caring about yourself and worrying if there’s anything on the menu that they might like.
We sat in there on the first night and they have some music going. So during dinner, we were subjected to/entertained by a remixed version of the chicken dance, complete with some kids that decided that they would like to do the dance as well. Combine that with the ‘books of the bible song’ and you’re in for an interesting evening’s entertainment to say the least.
Quite late on our first day here, we discovered that there was going to be a ‘mini miss’ fashion parade and of course, because she heard about it, our mini miss decided that she really wanted to be a part of it. It consisted of three sections, the swimwear, sportswear and formal wear sections combined with a brief talent showing as well. Emily decided to sing.
She did incredibly well in front of a crowd of strangers in a foreign country, though her choice of song was somewhat amusing. When one considers that we’re in the tropics for the sun, “I love Christmas Morning” does seem just a little bit out of place! She had fun though and that’s what it’s all about
As you may have noticed from the first post that I put up from Jamaica (strangely under the influence of rum once again) we went horse riding along the beach. It was fantastic, especially as we didn’t just go along the beach, but took the horses into the water as well. We managed to get as deep as my crotch at one point which Thomas duly pointed out meant that the particular wave in question was up to his chest! But unlike one of the guides that was riding bareback, Thomas’ horse didn’t stumble and drop him in the drink.
And of course, the little pink thing spent the entire ride with a grin from ear to ear.
Until today, the rest of the holiday has been all about what it should be … not doing much at all. Drinking dacquiri’s by the pool, soaking in the sun and the kids entertaining themselves however they so choose. Its been an absolute delight.
Today we opted to get out of the resort for a while and went on a shopping expedition in town. It was fun, though it was predominantly an exercise in haggling and getting harassed. We managed to walk away with a few things that we felt we hadn’t paid too much for, probably because we managed to escape from the resort with only Thomas in tow … the joys of a nanny at your service for most of the day every day!
Then, this afternoon, we joined in on a snorkeling trip out in the glass bottom boat. That was fabulous, swimming in a nice warm ocean, watching beautiful fish in their natural environment. It really helped us to appreciate just how lucky we are to be here.
Anyway, its time for bed. So I’ll get this posted and wish you all the best from Jamaica!
There’s something about cheap travel that you really have to think about before you indulge in it and that would be the timing of your flights. Because, let’s face it, if you have enough money, you can travel where you want on your own terms and with the best available connections, departures and arrivals.
When you’re a cheap skate (or simply have too many kids) you do things like take the plane that leaves Calgary at 12:30am and arrives in Toronto at 4:30am. And then have the 3 hour wait until the plane departs for Jamaica with tired kids strung out in an airport.
And as with so many of these things, I started this in one place and now find myself finishing it off in a completely different one, both mentally and physically. Often that will mean that the starting portion gets cropped out somewhere in the extraordinarily brief editing process that I use, but today I decided to let it stand, because there is a distinct reversal of emotion from when I started to when I now sit here completing this little piece.
At the time that I started, I was on a plane somewhere between Toronto and Jamaica (Montego Bay to be precise) and so still carried closely and personally the scars that one accumulates with small children gathered in a very public place without access to anything that they actually want to do (ie they have plenty that can be done, but chose for those moment that there is sweet nothing that they want to do.
Whereas at this precise moment in time (2112 hrs on the25th of February for those that care about these things – and probably less now) I am sat upon a reclining wooden chair on the balcony of our accommodation at the FDR resort in Jamaica. I am also at this point on the good side of a reasonable number of Appleton Rums with half a cold red stripe lager beside me to help see me through to the end of the evening and if it is an auspicious evening, possibly even the end of this post, though the fact that I’ve just had to deleted approximately 20 o’s for the second time in as many minutes doesn’t bode well for a coherent culmination to my literary efforts.
We arrived in Jamaica to the pleasant discomfort of being somewhat warm, having dressed at least in part to cope with the departure temperatures of Fort McMurray …-30C.’
Bring on the temperatures that we landed to, +28C
---------
Especially as I am not continuing this 3 days later. I have to say that the rum and noddies got the better of me and I simply wasn’t in a position to continue typing. Fortunately I left myself some notes as to what it was that I was going to write about. One of those is ‘remixed version of the chicken dance’ and for a rew moments there I was a little mystified as to what on earth that meant. I have however just remembered. They have a section here at the resort where they put a kids buffet on every night so that you can feed your kids before caring about yourself and worrying if there’s anything on the menu that they might like.
We sat in there on the first night and they have some music going. So during dinner, we were subjected to/entertained by a remixed version of the chicken dance, complete with some kids that decided that they would like to do the dance as well. Combine that with the ‘books of the bible song’ and you’re in for an interesting evening’s entertainment to say the least.
Quite late on our first day here, we discovered that there was going to be a ‘mini miss’ fashion parade and of course, because she heard about it, our mini miss decided that she really wanted to be a part of it. It consisted of three sections, the swimwear, sportswear and formal wear sections combined with a brief talent showing as well. Emily decided to sing.
She did incredibly well in front of a crowd of strangers in a foreign country, though her choice of song was somewhat amusing. When one considers that we’re in the tropics for the sun, “I love Christmas Morning” does seem just a little bit out of place! She had fun though and that’s what it’s all about
As you may have noticed from the first post that I put up from Jamaica (strangely under the influence of rum once again) we went horse riding along the beach. It was fantastic, especially as we didn’t just go along the beach, but took the horses into the water as well. We managed to get as deep as my crotch at one point which Thomas duly pointed out meant that the particular wave in question was up to his chest! But unlike one of the guides that was riding bareback, Thomas’ horse didn’t stumble and drop him in the drink.
And of course, the little pink thing spent the entire ride with a grin from ear to ear.
Until today, the rest of the holiday has been all about what it should be … not doing much at all. Drinking dacquiri’s by the pool, soaking in the sun and the kids entertaining themselves however they so choose. Its been an absolute delight.
Today we opted to get out of the resort for a while and went on a shopping expedition in town. It was fun, though it was predominantly an exercise in haggling and getting harassed. We managed to walk away with a few things that we felt we hadn’t paid too much for, probably because we managed to escape from the resort with only Thomas in tow … the joys of a nanny at your service for most of the day every day!
Then, this afternoon, we joined in on a snorkeling trip out in the glass bottom boat. That was fabulous, swimming in a nice warm ocean, watching beautiful fish in their natural environment. It really helped us to appreciate just how lucky we are to be here.
Anyway, its time for bed. So I’ll get this posted and wish you all the best from Jamaica!
Feb 26, 2009
Feb 24, 2009
jamaica bound
We're currently sitting in the airport awaiting the departure of the first leg of our trip to Jamaica. Assuming that the little pink thing settles down or not, we may all get off our final plane tomorrow afternoon for a bit of sun.
I must say that I am rather looking forward to sitting by the pool saoking in the sun and sipping on a dacquiri or two. Rest assured I'll have one for each of you as well.
I must say that I am rather looking forward to sitting by the pool saoking in the sun and sipping on a dacquiri or two. Rest assured I'll have one for each of you as well.
Feb 14, 2009
Catching Up
Yes, it’s been a little while since I last sat down and wrote something. Part of that has been deliberate. There were things in the wind that I wanted to have settled out to some sort of order before I discussed them too widely.
There’s something of a running joke that every time the CEO visits up here I come out of it with a new job. Well two weeks ago he was here … and I am still in the same role. Almost remarkable, but worthy of noting that it could well have been different.
In the discussion that I had with him whilst he was here, he mentioned that the company was looking for an Alliance Manager for a new contract that we’ve won in New Zealand. I’d taken a brief look at the location prior to his arrival and decided that I didn’t want to end up there, but following discussions with him, said that I’d consider it.
A bit of research suggested that there could be a nice place to live near there (Whakatane on the Bay of Plenty) but schooling options weren’t looking overly abundant and with a few other issues as well, we decided that perhaps we should just hang tight for now and look forward to our return to Oz at the end of this current contract.
That was the biggest piece of news that I was sitting on kept me from sitting down and writing. Although, it would have been nice to have been that much closer to home … possibly might have encouraged a few more visitors than we’ve managed to attract to this rather lonely part of the world.
In other news, we’ve had a couple of different illness’ run through the family. It certainly hasn’t helped with the ability of the family to cope with the extended winter that we get in this part of the world. I think that Sam and I are the only ones who have managed to avoid turning our stomachs inside out at some point in recent weeks, though we have both had the head cold that ran through the house.
Caroline was perhaps the least fortunate as she threw up early last Saturday morning when we were in Edmonton to watch Emily and Thomas’ ringette tournament. Instead she spent the day ‘relaxing’ in the hotel.
A month or so ago we were informed that Air Canada was having an international seat sale and looked very seriously at coming home for Easter. Sadly that was vetoed when the company banned us from taking leave in March and April due to a planned turnaround event. So there went our trip to the sun. So we looked for an alternative. We considered Mexico but in the end, booked a trip to the Caribbean, Jamaica to be exact! Yes, in approximately 13 days we’ll be soaking up the sun and drinking pina coladas! God I can’t wait.
And then, on top of that, and taking blessings from misfortune, economic slow downs and a fire in the plant pushed back the time frame for the turnaround to September which meant the travel ban was lifted. We didn’t do anything about it though. Not until early this week, when Sam was having a particularly hard day of it, not finding any joy in what was going on and we started to once again talk about when we could get home this year, or if in fact we would even manage to get home ahead of our contract end date.
And then there were specials on flights again …
Long story short, yesterday tickets were booked for us to come home for Easter! Cue party music!
I’ll be arriving on Sunday the 5th of April (Caroline and the kids will be there about a week and a half before that (Which I believe will mean that Emily gets yet another birthday in Oz) and then we’ll all leave together on Monday the 20th of April, having managed another Easter at Port Hughes and even getting a week of school holidays in there for the kids to see their friends. Due to the complexity of being stingy bastards, we’ll also have a day in LA on our way back over, so I am thinking that maybe we’ll be heading to Universal Studios. Can’t wait.
There’s something of a running joke that every time the CEO visits up here I come out of it with a new job. Well two weeks ago he was here … and I am still in the same role. Almost remarkable, but worthy of noting that it could well have been different.
In the discussion that I had with him whilst he was here, he mentioned that the company was looking for an Alliance Manager for a new contract that we’ve won in New Zealand. I’d taken a brief look at the location prior to his arrival and decided that I didn’t want to end up there, but following discussions with him, said that I’d consider it.
A bit of research suggested that there could be a nice place to live near there (Whakatane on the Bay of Plenty) but schooling options weren’t looking overly abundant and with a few other issues as well, we decided that perhaps we should just hang tight for now and look forward to our return to Oz at the end of this current contract.
That was the biggest piece of news that I was sitting on kept me from sitting down and writing. Although, it would have been nice to have been that much closer to home … possibly might have encouraged a few more visitors than we’ve managed to attract to this rather lonely part of the world.
In other news, we’ve had a couple of different illness’ run through the family. It certainly hasn’t helped with the ability of the family to cope with the extended winter that we get in this part of the world. I think that Sam and I are the only ones who have managed to avoid turning our stomachs inside out at some point in recent weeks, though we have both had the head cold that ran through the house.
Caroline was perhaps the least fortunate as she threw up early last Saturday morning when we were in Edmonton to watch Emily and Thomas’ ringette tournament. Instead she spent the day ‘relaxing’ in the hotel.
A month or so ago we were informed that Air Canada was having an international seat sale and looked very seriously at coming home for Easter. Sadly that was vetoed when the company banned us from taking leave in March and April due to a planned turnaround event. So there went our trip to the sun. So we looked for an alternative. We considered Mexico but in the end, booked a trip to the Caribbean, Jamaica to be exact! Yes, in approximately 13 days we’ll be soaking up the sun and drinking pina coladas! God I can’t wait.
And then, on top of that, and taking blessings from misfortune, economic slow downs and a fire in the plant pushed back the time frame for the turnaround to September which meant the travel ban was lifted. We didn’t do anything about it though. Not until early this week, when Sam was having a particularly hard day of it, not finding any joy in what was going on and we started to once again talk about when we could get home this year, or if in fact we would even manage to get home ahead of our contract end date.
And then there were specials on flights again …
Long story short, yesterday tickets were booked for us to come home for Easter! Cue party music!
I’ll be arriving on Sunday the 5th of April (Caroline and the kids will be there about a week and a half before that (Which I believe will mean that Emily gets yet another birthday in Oz) and then we’ll all leave together on Monday the 20th of April, having managed another Easter at Port Hughes and even getting a week of school holidays in there for the kids to see their friends. Due to the complexity of being stingy bastards, we’ll also have a day in LA on our way back over, so I am thinking that maybe we’ll be heading to Universal Studios. Can’t wait.
Feb 2, 2009
20
20 years ago today (Febrauary 2nd), on a Wednesday night, I went out to the pub with a group of friends. It was the Hackney hotel and the attraction was that for $5 you could drink as much beer as you liked (or in some cases, more than that, but there were consequences!).
One of the friends that I was going along with was an attractive young lass that I had developed a certain level of desire lust attraction for. In the time leading up to that, I had allowed that level of attraction to lead me to make a couple of (admittedly somewhat drunken) attempts to make known my level of interest, though they had been deftly deflected.
There had been some confusing signals, like the rather excited phone call I received one night informing me that this girl had broken up with her boyfriend of the time, but ultimately whilst the friendship continued unabated, it seemed that this poor boy’s intentions were ultimately to be thwarted.
And so, as this particular Wednesday night wore on, I steeled myself with a couple of handy schooners of courage and wondered just how on earth things might proceed on this evening when she would be dropping me home (along with another of her friends). Not exactly Casanova, or even anything resembling a silver-tongued wooer of women, towards the end of the night I made a bold a dashing move to once again make my intentions known.
I placed my hand upon her knee.
Yep, wasn’t that just the masterstroke! Too my utter delight though, there was no shrinking away of the leg, no slapping of the hand, no discouragement what so ever. In fact on the way home that night, the car was actually stopped and the friend shooed off for a moment and we actually kissed!
Well, from that moment on, I was a happy little boy and to our friends’ mortification, they had to put up with us being joined at the face entirely too often for what they probably considered healthy. 6 and a half years after that, I managed to get around to proposing and now, a full 20 years and 4 kids after that special night out, I have to say, the patience and perseverance was most certainly worth it!
One of the friends that I was going along with was an attractive young lass that I had developed a certain level of desire lust attraction for. In the time leading up to that, I had allowed that level of attraction to lead me to make a couple of (admittedly somewhat drunken) attempts to make known my level of interest, though they had been deftly deflected.
There had been some confusing signals, like the rather excited phone call I received one night informing me that this girl had broken up with her boyfriend of the time, but ultimately whilst the friendship continued unabated, it seemed that this poor boy’s intentions were ultimately to be thwarted.
And so, as this particular Wednesday night wore on, I steeled myself with a couple of handy schooners of courage and wondered just how on earth things might proceed on this evening when she would be dropping me home (along with another of her friends). Not exactly Casanova, or even anything resembling a silver-tongued wooer of women, towards the end of the night I made a bold a dashing move to once again make my intentions known.
I placed my hand upon her knee.
Yep, wasn’t that just the masterstroke! Too my utter delight though, there was no shrinking away of the leg, no slapping of the hand, no discouragement what so ever. In fact on the way home that night, the car was actually stopped and the friend shooed off for a moment and we actually kissed!
Well, from that moment on, I was a happy little boy and to our friends’ mortification, they had to put up with us being joined at the face entirely too often for what they probably considered healthy. 6 and a half years after that, I managed to get around to proposing and now, a full 20 years and 4 kids after that special night out, I have to say, the patience and perseverance was most certainly worth it!
Smemory
Yesterday, we dragged the kids out to the local ski hill for a bit of skiing action (though Michael and Sam opted to sit in the ‘chalet’ whilst Caroline, Thomas, Emily and I did the actual skiing – Michael because he has a cough and Sam because he just couldn’t be faffed).
It was going to be a hectic afternoon because after skiing we had ringette for Thomas and Emily immediately followed by my indoor soccer and possibly Caroline’s ringette if she opted to go out.
As we left from the ski hill Emily started to tell me that she didn’t feel all that great, but of course I thought she was just trying to get out of having to do ringette. She quieted down on the way there as well which I thought gave credibility to my suspicions. Turns out that it had more to do with the fact that she’d fallen asleep!
When we arrived at the ice rink she was still asleep and I wasn’t that keen to have to go through the trouble of waking her up and getting her kitted out and so waited for Caroline to arrive (we were in two cars because of all the equipment we were lugging around) to make a recommendation that we just head home. With that done, off home it was.
Sadly I only managed to get about half a kilometre down the road before Emily reiterated that she wasn’t feeling well and thought that she was going to be sick. I think the delay between making that statement and hearing that horrible bubbling sound that is a child vomiting in the car was approximately 1.73 seconds. Certainly not enough time to do anything like pull over and get her to eject her stomach contents outside the vehicle.
Of course Thomas was with us as well and he was quickly out the car and elsewhere so that he didn’t go off in a sympathy spew. I of course, being the parent got to deal with the mess in my car. Yummy.
We managed to get home without either Thomas or I joining the fun and without Emily throwing up again. I assure you, cracking the windows to let the smell out when it s-20-C is not fun. I swear for the rest of the day, all I could smell was the faint remnants of regurgitated hot chocolate.
And at 2am this morning, when Michael came in to tell me that he’d been awake coughing for an hour and a half and couldn’t sleep, I had a smemory. A strange and random recollection of the smell of vomit … even though there was nothing to generate it. I can do well enough without remembering some smells thank you.
It was going to be a hectic afternoon because after skiing we had ringette for Thomas and Emily immediately followed by my indoor soccer and possibly Caroline’s ringette if she opted to go out.
As we left from the ski hill Emily started to tell me that she didn’t feel all that great, but of course I thought she was just trying to get out of having to do ringette. She quieted down on the way there as well which I thought gave credibility to my suspicions. Turns out that it had more to do with the fact that she’d fallen asleep!
When we arrived at the ice rink she was still asleep and I wasn’t that keen to have to go through the trouble of waking her up and getting her kitted out and so waited for Caroline to arrive (we were in two cars because of all the equipment we were lugging around) to make a recommendation that we just head home. With that done, off home it was.
Sadly I only managed to get about half a kilometre down the road before Emily reiterated that she wasn’t feeling well and thought that she was going to be sick. I think the delay between making that statement and hearing that horrible bubbling sound that is a child vomiting in the car was approximately 1.73 seconds. Certainly not enough time to do anything like pull over and get her to eject her stomach contents outside the vehicle.
Of course Thomas was with us as well and he was quickly out the car and elsewhere so that he didn’t go off in a sympathy spew. I of course, being the parent got to deal with the mess in my car. Yummy.
We managed to get home without either Thomas or I joining the fun and without Emily throwing up again. I assure you, cracking the windows to let the smell out when it s-20-C is not fun. I swear for the rest of the day, all I could smell was the faint remnants of regurgitated hot chocolate.
And at 2am this morning, when Michael came in to tell me that he’d been awake coughing for an hour and a half and couldn’t sleep, I had a smemory. A strange and random recollection of the smell of vomit … even though there was nothing to generate it. I can do well enough without remembering some smells thank you.
Jan 25, 2009
Blood Sport
The other weekend, Michael expressed a desire to go and see the Oil Barons (our local ice hockey team) play a game. Certainly an indication that he’s starting to enjoy playing more than he had been previously (something to do with his first goal perhaps?). I had remarked to a couple of people previously that in the couple of games that I’d managed to get to, there hadn’t been a single fight.
So despite the fact that it was an unbelievable 6 degrees on the right side of zero, he and I went to watch a game in the middle of the afternoon (better than getting home past 10pm on a school night). Now the night before we went, there was apparently a full line brawl as the Barons went down 3-2 to the visiting team. A full line brawl apparently means that both benches are cleared and the keepers are involved in the fight as well.
We were watching the follow up game the next day. The game started well with the Barons scoring in the first 17 seconds of the game, but they quickly gave up their lead and all of 2 minutes into the game it was 1 each. And then it became very clear that there were a couple of scores that were going to be settled for the night before. Now the hockey that we were watching certainly wasn’t the NHL and the kids that play are all in the 18-22 sort of age group, but this sure wasn’t going to be a game for the faint hearted. With scores to settle, if you found yourself anywhere near the boards you were a target for someone and about to become intimately acquainted with the Perspex.
It wasn’t long before the first fight broke out. The gloves were thrown to the ice and of course after a couple of swings, the first thing they do is go for the other guy’s helmet, because if you can drag that off, you get to have a good swing at his face.
This pretty much set the scene for the first 20 minute period. We’d get a couple of minutes hockey, a bad referee’s call and another fight. They were being very liberal with the penalties too. For the unacquainted, in hockey, if you foul someone, you get a 2 minute penalty, sitting in the sin-bin whilst your team plays a man down. If you’re involved in a fight, you get at least that, possibly more, but the team is allowed to replace you on the ice (unless you’ve received a penalty for a foul as well).
I think that it’s supposed to discourage the practice with people missing out on time on the ice as both parties involved in the fight get binned, but it did very little on this occasion.
The penalties did eventually get a little more severe. I recall the call going up for one guy having been sent to the bin as being something like, “2 minutes for hooking (the foul), 2 minutes for initiating, 4 minutes for fighting and 10 minutes for poor conduct (or something like that). That’s a hell of a lot of game time to miss! Of course the team is only short for the first 2 minutes or so.
But the biggest indicator of the way in which the game was played came in 2 ways. One, the fact that in a game where there’s usually 6 people on the ice (including the keeper) there was at one point in the time 6 big burly hockey players crammed into a small penalty box with a further 2 already having been sent off the ice entirely because they’d not be back for the rest of the first period! The second was the fact that the first 20 minute period took 60 minutes to complete.
Not to mention that the coach was ejected from the game.
Things settled down somewhat in the second period and there was actually some hockey played, though its notable that most of the game for the Barons was played under strength due to the number of penalties that they gave up.
Things took a down turn in the third period though. The Barons got to 5-2 behind with only about 8 minutes left in the game. The puck was brought back to the middle of the ice and the two centres faced off. The puck was thrown to the ice, the opposition player swept it away with the stick and the Barons guy, without a moment’s hesitation, threw his gloves to the ground and threw a punch! There was absolutely zero attempt to play the puck and in a clearly pre-meditated arrangement, the other two forwards grabbed their opposite numbers and threw them to the ice as well.
The assistant coach was ejected and things didn’t improve. One guy simply swung his hockey stick baseball style across another’s stomach and then the crowed decided to get involved and plastic bottles were hurled to the ice. The game essentially ended 2 minutes before it was due.
What an initiation into ‘the national game’. It was certainly a spectacle, but as Michael said to me, it would have been nice to have seen a bit more hockey.
So despite the fact that it was an unbelievable 6 degrees on the right side of zero, he and I went to watch a game in the middle of the afternoon (better than getting home past 10pm on a school night). Now the night before we went, there was apparently a full line brawl as the Barons went down 3-2 to the visiting team. A full line brawl apparently means that both benches are cleared and the keepers are involved in the fight as well.
We were watching the follow up game the next day. The game started well with the Barons scoring in the first 17 seconds of the game, but they quickly gave up their lead and all of 2 minutes into the game it was 1 each. And then it became very clear that there were a couple of scores that were going to be settled for the night before. Now the hockey that we were watching certainly wasn’t the NHL and the kids that play are all in the 18-22 sort of age group, but this sure wasn’t going to be a game for the faint hearted. With scores to settle, if you found yourself anywhere near the boards you were a target for someone and about to become intimately acquainted with the Perspex.
It wasn’t long before the first fight broke out. The gloves were thrown to the ice and of course after a couple of swings, the first thing they do is go for the other guy’s helmet, because if you can drag that off, you get to have a good swing at his face.
This pretty much set the scene for the first 20 minute period. We’d get a couple of minutes hockey, a bad referee’s call and another fight. They were being very liberal with the penalties too. For the unacquainted, in hockey, if you foul someone, you get a 2 minute penalty, sitting in the sin-bin whilst your team plays a man down. If you’re involved in a fight, you get at least that, possibly more, but the team is allowed to replace you on the ice (unless you’ve received a penalty for a foul as well).
I think that it’s supposed to discourage the practice with people missing out on time on the ice as both parties involved in the fight get binned, but it did very little on this occasion.
The penalties did eventually get a little more severe. I recall the call going up for one guy having been sent to the bin as being something like, “2 minutes for hooking (the foul), 2 minutes for initiating, 4 minutes for fighting and 10 minutes for poor conduct (or something like that). That’s a hell of a lot of game time to miss! Of course the team is only short for the first 2 minutes or so.
But the biggest indicator of the way in which the game was played came in 2 ways. One, the fact that in a game where there’s usually 6 people on the ice (including the keeper) there was at one point in the time 6 big burly hockey players crammed into a small penalty box with a further 2 already having been sent off the ice entirely because they’d not be back for the rest of the first period! The second was the fact that the first 20 minute period took 60 minutes to complete.
Not to mention that the coach was ejected from the game.
Things settled down somewhat in the second period and there was actually some hockey played, though its notable that most of the game for the Barons was played under strength due to the number of penalties that they gave up.
Things took a down turn in the third period though. The Barons got to 5-2 behind with only about 8 minutes left in the game. The puck was brought back to the middle of the ice and the two centres faced off. The puck was thrown to the ice, the opposition player swept it away with the stick and the Barons guy, without a moment’s hesitation, threw his gloves to the ground and threw a punch! There was absolutely zero attempt to play the puck and in a clearly pre-meditated arrangement, the other two forwards grabbed their opposite numbers and threw them to the ice as well.
The assistant coach was ejected and things didn’t improve. One guy simply swung his hockey stick baseball style across another’s stomach and then the crowed decided to get involved and plastic bottles were hurled to the ice. The game essentially ended 2 minutes before it was due.
What an initiation into ‘the national game’. It was certainly a spectacle, but as Michael said to me, it would have been nice to have seen a bit more hockey.
Jan 14, 2009
Take this shovel and shove it
One of the last things that Jason did for me before departing our sunny (though not so warm) shores was to shovel the snow from the driveway and footpath. It was a nice gesture that of course lasted all of about 48 hours before it decided to snow again. I didn’t even bother to get rid of it.
Now when one casts an eye back over the recent weather pattern of Fort McMurray, one notes that there has been approximately 5 days that have exceeded -20C in the last 6 weeks. That means that the time spent shoveling the snow is spent in the blistering cold. Not pleasant at all.
So imagine my joy when I am sitting at work the other day and here that there’s a snow warning, with a possible 10-20cm overnight and a temperature in the order of -26C. I just love it when they give you a forecast for an overnight low of -26C with a high the following day of -28C. Since when is the high less than the low I ask you? Its just bloody wrong!
But getting back to the point (yes, there’s always a point eventually) when I woke up in the morning, it wasn’t quite as bad as I’d feared. There’d only been 10 cm of snow overnight. Of course, I wasn’t ready to shovel so I just drove over the bloody stuff and decided to leave it until later. Later turned out to be that night, after having had all four kids at Thomas’ indoor soccer game whilst Caroline managed to get out for dinner.
As I shoveled away, there were a few things that came to mind. There was the fact that every time that I go out to shovel the snow at night, my neighbours are out there shoveling too. That could make for comradely spirit, but the fact that there’s two of them doing half the work that I have to do just rubs me the wrong way. That’s probably mostly because every time they shovel the snow, they pile it on the road, rather than on their property. Everyone else in the street keeps it on their property in accordance with the by-laws but these guys seem to be oblivious. If everyone did it, there’d be nowhere to drive and nowhere to park. So there’s a small chance that I take just a little bit too much pleasure in hefting the snow from my driveway up and over my pile onto their front lawn.
Then there was the fact that because I had ignored the first snowfall and driven over the second, there were tyre tracks of compacted snow (ie ice) on the drive. So to finish the job properly would require not just moving the snow, but getting out the ice chipper and have a good go with that as well. It brought to my mind Norm of the old Life. Be in It. Campaigns from Australian telly. As I contemplated whether I should be getting the ice chipper out or not, the theme of those ads (is near enough good enough) rang in my ears, “What if the Great Wall [of China] had only been a great fence?”
So I grabbed the chipper and started the process of removing the ice from the driveway. But as the tingling commenced in the ears and I tried to remember whether I was supposed to have feeling in my cheeks or not, I decided that Norm could get stuffed and just maybe if the Great Wall had been a Great Fence, they wouldn’t have ended up with so many dead people in the foundations!
At least the temperature is supposed to get to single figure minuses tonight. Because let’s face it, there’s more snow on the way too. Shovelling it should only be half as bad at -5 as it is at -26!!
Now when one casts an eye back over the recent weather pattern of Fort McMurray, one notes that there has been approximately 5 days that have exceeded -20C in the last 6 weeks. That means that the time spent shoveling the snow is spent in the blistering cold. Not pleasant at all.
So imagine my joy when I am sitting at work the other day and here that there’s a snow warning, with a possible 10-20cm overnight and a temperature in the order of -26C. I just love it when they give you a forecast for an overnight low of -26C with a high the following day of -28C. Since when is the high less than the low I ask you? Its just bloody wrong!
But getting back to the point (yes, there’s always a point eventually) when I woke up in the morning, it wasn’t quite as bad as I’d feared. There’d only been 10 cm of snow overnight. Of course, I wasn’t ready to shovel so I just drove over the bloody stuff and decided to leave it until later. Later turned out to be that night, after having had all four kids at Thomas’ indoor soccer game whilst Caroline managed to get out for dinner.
As I shoveled away, there were a few things that came to mind. There was the fact that every time that I go out to shovel the snow at night, my neighbours are out there shoveling too. That could make for comradely spirit, but the fact that there’s two of them doing half the work that I have to do just rubs me the wrong way. That’s probably mostly because every time they shovel the snow, they pile it on the road, rather than on their property. Everyone else in the street keeps it on their property in accordance with the by-laws but these guys seem to be oblivious. If everyone did it, there’d be nowhere to drive and nowhere to park. So there’s a small chance that I take just a little bit too much pleasure in hefting the snow from my driveway up and over my pile onto their front lawn.
Then there was the fact that because I had ignored the first snowfall and driven over the second, there were tyre tracks of compacted snow (ie ice) on the drive. So to finish the job properly would require not just moving the snow, but getting out the ice chipper and have a good go with that as well. It brought to my mind Norm of the old Life. Be in It. Campaigns from Australian telly. As I contemplated whether I should be getting the ice chipper out or not, the theme of those ads (is near enough good enough) rang in my ears, “What if the Great Wall [of China] had only been a great fence?”
So I grabbed the chipper and started the process of removing the ice from the driveway. But as the tingling commenced in the ears and I tried to remember whether I was supposed to have feeling in my cheeks or not, I decided that Norm could get stuffed and just maybe if the Great Wall had been a Great Fence, they wouldn’t have ended up with so many dead people in the foundations!
At least the temperature is supposed to get to single figure minuses tonight. Because let’s face it, there’s more snow on the way too. Shovelling it should only be half as bad at -5 as it is at -26!!
Jan 6, 2009
Happy Christmas and a Merry New Year
Clearly I’ve not been keeping up with things over the last couple of weeks, so I thought that I should take a little bit of time to catch up.
I didn’t manage to get around to writing my annual Christmas letter this year, mainly because all I was likely to do was go back through drift and regurgitate bits of it and the audience for the letter would have been the same distribution. So if you want a review of our year of 2008, feel free to browse the archive and read it yourself!
The year ended in a rush as it always seems to and with the added bonus for us of the Rowlands arriving late in December. They were supposed to get here on the 19th but thanks to the wonders of modern air travel, ended up getting here on the 20th instead after being advised time and again that their flight from Calgary to Fort Mac was delayed. I was swapping text messages and phone calls with Jason and finally at about 2am was sent off to bed to await their arrival on the following day. Talk about a horror start.
The first order of business for us was of course to get them to the ski hill at Vista Ridge so that they could try and get some snow legs before we would head off to Kimberley. We met with varying degrees of success, with all of them developing some level of proficiency and only Jason managing to walk away with any significant pain and bruising; something about trying to snowboard upside down? Well, when I looked back up the hill, his feet were in the air and he wasn’t exactly ripping it.
We went to hunt for a Christmas tree so that we could all share the experience of freezing our arses off as we massacred the forest. The trip was ‘somewhat successful’. I found a nice place for us, we managed to make a bonfire in the snow and we cooked up hot dogs for lunch. We even found a tree and cut it down. However, on returning it to the truck, we took a closer look and decided that given it was more dead than alive, we’d leave it behind to become one with the environment again at a later date. So we had the full experience and left the mess behind!
Christmas was of course the next big event. Santa managed to re-route some goodies for the Rowlands and with a total of ten of us in the house, there was certainly a ridiculous number of gifts under the tree. Holding the kids back long enough to get a photo was something of an effort, but here’s evidence that we did actually manage to do so.
Christmas lunch went off well, with the only real drama being that the 20 pound turkey that we had bought occupied the entire oven and didn’t really leave any room for cooking vegetables! So there was a late notice call out to get the weber fired up. Now if you’ve ever used one of these babies, you’ll be familiar with the fact that they aren’t a simply light and go operation (unless you cheated and got the gas conversion). So there was some pressure to get it up and running in time to actually cook. At this point, it’s probably worth mentioning that Christmas day was about -20C here and so starting a bbq was a bit of a challenge.
I did win though. Ignition gel, metho and a little dose of caution served me well and we did eventually sit down to a delicious turkey dinner, WITH vegetables!
Boxing day was the scheduled departure for us to drive to Calgary and I have to say that I was nervous about what sort of road conditions we were likely to encounter along the way. Those concerns were soon joined by another variety though, when Michael decided to vomit about 20 minutes before we left. A schedule is a schedule though and we needed to make sure that we’d be in Calgary, because my gift to everyone for Christmas was to take them dog sledding in Canmore on the 27th!
Now I wasn’t in the car with Michael (I’m sure Bel would be more than happy to expound on just how wonderful a ride it was) but he tells me that he threw up 20 times during that trip, most of them in the first half. We didn’t quite stop that many times, but it wasn’t far off. We managed to get to Calgary without further event though and stayed at the McColl’s (thanks Annie and Jim – don’t worry, no one threw up at your house!).
The following day we made our way to Lake Louise to take a quick look around and then back to Banff ‘briefly’ for lunch (don’t ask about the food court). Time pressure was then applied as we scooted back to Canmore to try and make it in time for us to get to the dog sledding before they left without us. We made it by the skin of our teeth (and yes, I was just ever so slightly stressed about the thought of missing it but having to pay anyway!).
The dog sledding was a hit. The dogs were adorable, 5 different breeds of huskies, they don’t really look like the huskies that you see in the movies (those tend to have been bred for looks rather than work). I’ve never seen a group of dogs so ready to go as this lot (though Emily was a close second). They sit there relatively quiet in the harnesses whilst the guide explains everything to you, but as soon as they get a sniff that they might be about to be allowed to run, they bark and yap and get ready to run.
I shared a sled with Emily and Thomas, driving on the way out, wondering how I was going to manage to give them both a go (because they both wanted to drive too) on the way back.
As the dogs run along, they occasionally run their tongues through the snow on the side of the trail and as soon as you stop, at least one of the dogs seems to immediately rollover into the snow drift on the side of the trail. Too cute for words.
We made it to the half way point and Emily happily jumped out all ready to drive a dog sled team, checking the commands with me (Hike to go, Woah to stop) but Thomas decided that he wasn’t feeling great and so he would just sit in the sled. He climbed out just to stretch his legs for a bit, looking very pale and then, yes, you guessed it, he painted the snow orange. Then he had to sit back in the sled for the rest of the ride, whilst Emily had the time of her life, standing on the runners with me, driving the dog team. Fortunately for Thomas (and much to Michael’s disgust) that was the only time that he vomited.
On the 28th we drove to Kimberley for our ski holiday. It was a bit of a hairy start, with poor driving conditions (it’s always great to see the snow plough stuck in the ditch – he hadn’t judged his turning point quite right) slowing us down and breeding plenty of caution. We made it through Banff and up to the pass that would take us through the mountains and into British Columbia and were very pleased to see that the roads had been ploughed and that it wasn’t snowing very heavily at all. By the time that we made it through to the other side, there were hints of sun and the temperature was rising steadily to a balmy -2 degrees.
Our accommodation was great, with the only minor hitch being the fact that the downstairs hot tub was out of action, which we thought could put a dent in the planned spa-to snow angel action, but at least the upstairs one was in order.
Our first day of snow was greeted by Sam with a chuck. It was his turn. And he wasn’t about to go skiing, even when by lunch time he hadn’t thrown up again. He sat quite happily in the Chalet holding onto one of the radios, watching TV and reading books with me checking up on him every chance that I could. Fortunately, that was the end of the vomit brother’s tour of Canada!
Snow conditions weren’t quite perfect for day one with some very icy patches, but everyone went into lessons to work on their skills. Caroline and I took advantage of the absence of children to hire a private instructor and get both some tips on our skiing and something of a tour of the mountain. Well worth the expense, as was putting the kids into school from 11:30 until 3:30 everyday. It meant that they all got to do something at an appropriate level (which in Michael and Thomas’ case meant stuff that I simply wasn’t prepared to ski) and Caroline and I got to go where we wanted (even if there was some discussion about what was fun versus what was pushing my boundaries too far – yes, I am the wimp of the family apparently).
The second day saw a dump of snow and so we went and skied in the powder all over the mountain, which was great … falling in powder is much better than falling on ice!
And of course, there was New Year’s Eve. As we had driven into BC, we stopped for gas and just by the door were the boxes of fireworks. Now these are freely available in Alberta, but there’s permit issues that can apparently be very hard to get and meet the requirements of. When we enquired as to the requirements in BC, the response was esentially… ‘um, make sure that there’s no one near you and it’s safe’. So I walked out with a bomb box.
Having pulled the kids out of the hot tub, Jason and I prepared a launch pad, along with escape routes (there’s no point in trying to run through 2 foot deep snow if you can shovel a path) and set up our own little pyrotechnics show. We had everyone else inside on the other end of the radio and would go out and prep each rocket, light it, run like buggery and then await the oo’s and aahs. It was great fun. Then we put the kids to bed and waited out the turning of the year in the hot tub. Around 12:30 am we decided that it was snow angel time. Jason and I went downstairs, over the railing and into the snow. And at this point I have to confess that Jason went into the snow and the associated howling and hollering made me think twice and I wimped out.
However, another couple of drinks and a bit more time thinking about it and I decided that there was no way that I was going to walk away with the story behind me how I had wimped out. So we went back down again, this time joined by Belinda and the three of us all made snow angels before running very quickly back up stairs to the warmth of the tub!
I didn’t manage to get around to writing my annual Christmas letter this year, mainly because all I was likely to do was go back through drift and regurgitate bits of it and the audience for the letter would have been the same distribution. So if you want a review of our year of 2008, feel free to browse the archive and read it yourself!
The year ended in a rush as it always seems to and with the added bonus for us of the Rowlands arriving late in December. They were supposed to get here on the 19th but thanks to the wonders of modern air travel, ended up getting here on the 20th instead after being advised time and again that their flight from Calgary to Fort Mac was delayed. I was swapping text messages and phone calls with Jason and finally at about 2am was sent off to bed to await their arrival on the following day. Talk about a horror start.
The first order of business for us was of course to get them to the ski hill at Vista Ridge so that they could try and get some snow legs before we would head off to Kimberley. We met with varying degrees of success, with all of them developing some level of proficiency and only Jason managing to walk away with any significant pain and bruising; something about trying to snowboard upside down? Well, when I looked back up the hill, his feet were in the air and he wasn’t exactly ripping it.
We went to hunt for a Christmas tree so that we could all share the experience of freezing our arses off as we massacred the forest. The trip was ‘somewhat successful’. I found a nice place for us, we managed to make a bonfire in the snow and we cooked up hot dogs for lunch. We even found a tree and cut it down. However, on returning it to the truck, we took a closer look and decided that given it was more dead than alive, we’d leave it behind to become one with the environment again at a later date. So we had the full experience and left the mess behind!
Christmas was of course the next big event. Santa managed to re-route some goodies for the Rowlands and with a total of ten of us in the house, there was certainly a ridiculous number of gifts under the tree. Holding the kids back long enough to get a photo was something of an effort, but here’s evidence that we did actually manage to do so.
Christmas lunch went off well, with the only real drama being that the 20 pound turkey that we had bought occupied the entire oven and didn’t really leave any room for cooking vegetables! So there was a late notice call out to get the weber fired up. Now if you’ve ever used one of these babies, you’ll be familiar with the fact that they aren’t a simply light and go operation (unless you cheated and got the gas conversion). So there was some pressure to get it up and running in time to actually cook. At this point, it’s probably worth mentioning that Christmas day was about -20C here and so starting a bbq was a bit of a challenge.
I did win though. Ignition gel, metho and a little dose of caution served me well and we did eventually sit down to a delicious turkey dinner, WITH vegetables!
Boxing day was the scheduled departure for us to drive to Calgary and I have to say that I was nervous about what sort of road conditions we were likely to encounter along the way. Those concerns were soon joined by another variety though, when Michael decided to vomit about 20 minutes before we left. A schedule is a schedule though and we needed to make sure that we’d be in Calgary, because my gift to everyone for Christmas was to take them dog sledding in Canmore on the 27th!
Now I wasn’t in the car with Michael (I’m sure Bel would be more than happy to expound on just how wonderful a ride it was) but he tells me that he threw up 20 times during that trip, most of them in the first half. We didn’t quite stop that many times, but it wasn’t far off. We managed to get to Calgary without further event though and stayed at the McColl’s (thanks Annie and Jim – don’t worry, no one threw up at your house!).
The following day we made our way to Lake Louise to take a quick look around and then back to Banff ‘briefly’ for lunch (don’t ask about the food court). Time pressure was then applied as we scooted back to Canmore to try and make it in time for us to get to the dog sledding before they left without us. We made it by the skin of our teeth (and yes, I was just ever so slightly stressed about the thought of missing it but having to pay anyway!).
The dog sledding was a hit. The dogs were adorable, 5 different breeds of huskies, they don’t really look like the huskies that you see in the movies (those tend to have been bred for looks rather than work). I’ve never seen a group of dogs so ready to go as this lot (though Emily was a close second). They sit there relatively quiet in the harnesses whilst the guide explains everything to you, but as soon as they get a sniff that they might be about to be allowed to run, they bark and yap and get ready to run.
I shared a sled with Emily and Thomas, driving on the way out, wondering how I was going to manage to give them both a go (because they both wanted to drive too) on the way back.
As the dogs run along, they occasionally run their tongues through the snow on the side of the trail and as soon as you stop, at least one of the dogs seems to immediately rollover into the snow drift on the side of the trail. Too cute for words.
We made it to the half way point and Emily happily jumped out all ready to drive a dog sled team, checking the commands with me (Hike to go, Woah to stop) but Thomas decided that he wasn’t feeling great and so he would just sit in the sled. He climbed out just to stretch his legs for a bit, looking very pale and then, yes, you guessed it, he painted the snow orange. Then he had to sit back in the sled for the rest of the ride, whilst Emily had the time of her life, standing on the runners with me, driving the dog team. Fortunately for Thomas (and much to Michael’s disgust) that was the only time that he vomited.
On the 28th we drove to Kimberley for our ski holiday. It was a bit of a hairy start, with poor driving conditions (it’s always great to see the snow plough stuck in the ditch – he hadn’t judged his turning point quite right) slowing us down and breeding plenty of caution. We made it through Banff and up to the pass that would take us through the mountains and into British Columbia and were very pleased to see that the roads had been ploughed and that it wasn’t snowing very heavily at all. By the time that we made it through to the other side, there were hints of sun and the temperature was rising steadily to a balmy -2 degrees.
Our accommodation was great, with the only minor hitch being the fact that the downstairs hot tub was out of action, which we thought could put a dent in the planned spa-to snow angel action, but at least the upstairs one was in order.
Our first day of snow was greeted by Sam with a chuck. It was his turn. And he wasn’t about to go skiing, even when by lunch time he hadn’t thrown up again. He sat quite happily in the Chalet holding onto one of the radios, watching TV and reading books with me checking up on him every chance that I could. Fortunately, that was the end of the vomit brother’s tour of Canada!
Snow conditions weren’t quite perfect for day one with some very icy patches, but everyone went into lessons to work on their skills. Caroline and I took advantage of the absence of children to hire a private instructor and get both some tips on our skiing and something of a tour of the mountain. Well worth the expense, as was putting the kids into school from 11:30 until 3:30 everyday. It meant that they all got to do something at an appropriate level (which in Michael and Thomas’ case meant stuff that I simply wasn’t prepared to ski) and Caroline and I got to go where we wanted (even if there was some discussion about what was fun versus what was pushing my boundaries too far – yes, I am the wimp of the family apparently).
The second day saw a dump of snow and so we went and skied in the powder all over the mountain, which was great … falling in powder is much better than falling on ice!
And of course, there was New Year’s Eve. As we had driven into BC, we stopped for gas and just by the door were the boxes of fireworks. Now these are freely available in Alberta, but there’s permit issues that can apparently be very hard to get and meet the requirements of. When we enquired as to the requirements in BC, the response was esentially… ‘um, make sure that there’s no one near you and it’s safe’. So I walked out with a bomb box.
Having pulled the kids out of the hot tub, Jason and I prepared a launch pad, along with escape routes (there’s no point in trying to run through 2 foot deep snow if you can shovel a path) and set up our own little pyrotechnics show. We had everyone else inside on the other end of the radio and would go out and prep each rocket, light it, run like buggery and then await the oo’s and aahs. It was great fun. Then we put the kids to bed and waited out the turning of the year in the hot tub. Around 12:30 am we decided that it was snow angel time. Jason and I went downstairs, over the railing and into the snow. And at this point I have to confess that Jason went into the snow and the associated howling and hollering made me think twice and I wimped out.
However, another couple of drinks and a bit more time thinking about it and I decided that there was no way that I was going to walk away with the story behind me how I had wimped out. So we went back down again, this time joined by Belinda and the three of us all made snow angels before running very quickly back up stairs to the warmth of the tub!
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