I guess I finally realised that I was leaving Canada for good when I boarded the plane to Munich in Toronto. I mean, leaving Fort Mac was one thing, but it wasn’t really until I was on that plane to Munich and settled that I really stopped to think about the fact that it was the last time that I be flying out of Canadia, barring some return ski trip in the future (though one should never say never!).
I didn’t really spend that much time thinking about it though because the bloke next to me managed to distract me. Not through stimulating conversation, because I established very quickly when I asked where he was from that he was Polish, but didn’t speak English. I also very quickly established that there were going to be boundary issues on the arm-rest given he was bigger than me and exceeding his spatial allotment. That and the fact that he smelt. Not only did he smell of having spent some pre-flight time in the bar, but also from having spent more than the allotted time either in the same clothes, or since last bathing.
If he sat still it wasn’t too bad, but it seemed that every time he moved the disturbance in the air became a disturbance of my olfactory senses. And of course, because his english was so poor, he couldn’t operate the in flight entertainment system, so he’d look at what I had on my screen and then indicate that he’d like to watch the same thing. I thought I’d left operating two systems behind the last time that I flew with Emily.
He did sleep that helped a little, but in the morning, he seemed curious to see what was outside of the plane all the time and would reach across me to lift the blind. This had a lovely dual effect. Firstly I was blinded by the bright daylight from outside due to having been watching movies in the near dark for the prior 6 hours or so and secondly, my olfactory senses were slammed with a sledge hammer as the less than fresh air about him was distributed across the plane.
I landed safely in Munich and apparently still have some sense of smell remaining.
During the transfer process in Munich I had to go back through the whole x-ray process with my hand luggage. Given that I was transporting two laptops, this was a painful process that I was glad to have only been through at the first flight in Fort McMurray. Munich managed to take things to a whole new level for me.
“Is that a doll in your luggage?” I was asked. Well, now that it’s been mentioned, yes, I was traveling with a doll in my hand luggage. It was Emily’s American Girl, Julie, that had been inadvertently left behind when they’d left the two weeks previously. Turns out that Julie had to go through the x-ray process all on her own.
I very briefly considered protesting that to put the poor doll through that might be considered an invasion of her privacy. However, upon consideration of the sorts of return invasions of MY privacy (not to mention my anatomy) that such protests might invoke, I decided to let the doll suffer through the affair. She appeared unconcerned at the prospect anyway and certainly made no complaint afterward.
The doll wasn’t the end of it though, they also insisted that I pull the cameras that were in my luggage out and have then go through the scanner again not to mention that I then had to turn the camera on and show them a picture as well! That’s one of those points in time when you start to wonder what the last photo you took was. In my case, it was a picture of Emily and Breagh, nothing to worry about at all.
For the final flight to Zurich, I actually managed to score an exit row seat which was nice, though somewhat wasted fortune considering it was such a minor hop of a flight. One shouldn’t complain though.
Upon arrival I was more than happy to pile into the van with an excited family and head off to Brennan where we were kindly being accommodated with Rita and Armin.
We spent a little time in Switzerland not doing a lot before our first excursion to Venice.
There were mixed reactions to the announcement that we were going to go to Venice, ranging from jealousy and people telling us that we’d love it to those that asked, “Why would you want to go there, its a crowded stinky place.”
Other than that, I had no real pre-conceptions about the place other than to expect lots of canals, over-priced gondolas and given that it was Summer, some delightful aromas that my Polish companion may have unwittingly prepared my nose for.
We drove the van across Italy, enjoying the changing scenery, counting the tunnels (something like 37 between Brunnen and Venice). Upon arrival, we parked the car, using one of the multi-storey carparks, which was an interesting exercise given we were in a large, 10 seater (that’s 4 rows of seats) Volkswagen van and we were assigned a park on the very top (8th) level of the car park. Things were a little nerve-wracking navigating the steep, circular spiraled ramps in the manual van. There was very little room for error and I was rather relieved to find that I managed to get to the top without any scratches or dents. There was plenty of evidence that those who had gone before had not all been able to say the same thing!
We had reduced our luggage for this trip which was a lovely little idea of Caroline’s that probably saved all sorts of hell as we made our way to the water ‘bus’ that was to take us around to where we were staying. The first sights of Venice were indeed inspirational as we cruised along the Grand Canal around to the San Marco stop where we would disembark.
With Venice being such and old and storied city, it seems almost pointless for me to try and capture what it is in a few words, so I won’t try. Suffice to say that I adored the architecture and uniqueness of the city. We dined out on PIzza and pasta and traipsed our way through the alleys and streets. With only two nights, we barely scratched the surface of the city, but then with 4 kids in tow, exploring museums and operas and the like was never really going to be an option anyway.
It was of course easy with the kids along to tell which of the shops were displaying the outrageously priced real Murano glass simply from the look on the face of the vendor when one entered the store. Those with the real glass on display were also those that stood with looks of impending doom upon their face and didn’t draw breath from the moment we entered until the moment we left their store. One of them must have been really over the top because as the kids went to go inside, he quite simply shooed them back out the door and denied them entry!
It was something of a relief when we finally left the last store to realise that we’d navigated so many shops with so much glass and managed to avoid destroying anything at all!
We stayed just in behind the Piazza San Marco, which given the amount of walking that the stay entailed and the fact that we dragged four kids along with us for the entire time, was a fabulous place to stay.
As with all visits, we had to leave and managed to do so intact, with everything that we’d taken there in the first place, which is always a nice way to do it (and never guaranteed). And so we drove back through the Italian countryside, admiring the churches and castles that adorned the higher elevations and cliffs and the terra cotta tiled houses in the villages that we passed. Around lunch time we decided that it would be nice to visit one of these small places and find some lunch at a nice bakery.
Such a simple plan. it only took an hour or so for us to get off the highway, drive into a village and wonder if it had been abandoned as we drove around looking for somewhere that might actually be open. Michael was most indignant when we finally found a supermarket to discover that they closed from 1 until 3:30. Or in other terms ... whilst we were there hungry.
Eventually after some frayed nerves and terse words, we did manage to find somewhere to eat and then returned to the highway, guided by Homer (Simpson, not the classic philosopher and my choice for the GPS voice) and on our way again back to Switzerland, with me declaring that we would never again leave the highway to search for a meal.
As famous last words go, I ate my own on that one. We drove along the highway past what we were later to discover was Como and in a fit of madness (or penance) I suggested that we drive in and find somewhere to eat. It was about the right time of day and the town appeared to be a village perched on a cliff over-looking a lake. I thought eating with such a view would prepare us well for the remainder of the journey.
It turned out that we couldn’t find anywhere to eat at the top of the cliff over looking the lake, that real-estate seemed to have been taken up by people who liked to live there and save that view for their own personal enjoyment. We did however make it down to the lake and again, after some somewhat random searching, locate a nice restaurant by the lake with a view only marginally defiled by the landscaping construction works between us and the body of water.
As we’d limited our parking time and then had to walk a fair way to get to where we ended up eating, I opted to go fetch the car whilst Caroline and the kids had gelato. Again it’s the simply ideas that seem to end up being the most poorly executed and I found myself discovering the walled portion of old Como, mostly as a result of discovering a series of one way streets and a couple of poor turning choices. I did however managed to make my way back and locate the family and after a very short driving tour of the old city, we were on our way again.
Our drive out of Switzerland had taken us via San Gotthardo which is scenic, though somewhat longer than the more modern option of traveling via the engineering marvel that is the Gotthard tunnel. A 17km journey under the mountains.
Our return journey didn’t take us through the tunnel either, but over an alternate pass through the mountains. That was fine, because there’s been a lot of work on the pass over the years and there’s lots of tunnels and bridges and its quite a nice drive. Right up to the point where some of that work was still going on and they sent us on a merry detour up the old pass. That of course would be the really really windy one, with second gear switch backs every 150 metres or so and steep drops down the side of the mountain as reward for any driving incompetence one might show. In the dark.
Suffice to say we made it, but it did mean that we were somewhat delayed in our arrival in Glarus where Mirriam was kind enough to actually greet us when we pulled in close to midnight!
Aug 26, 2010
Aug 10, 2010
Leaving
As seems to happen more often than not lately, its been some time since I made the time to sit down and write. There’s been plenty going on and that has been at least half the issue. Its been way to busy to take the time to sit down and write about it.
As I sit here and type this theres a small, compressed army working their way through our house with boxes, paper and enough tape to subdue a small herd of buffalo. That’s a good thing, because after four more sleeps i’ll be heading off to the airport to fly out of Fort McMurray for the last foreseeable time.
It’s been a frantic couple of months since the job decided to open up back in Adelaide. Between negotiating exit time frames betwixt the Canadian business (that really didn’t want me to leave until October at best) and the Australian business (who would have ideally liked to have had me in July) and then going through all the ‘oh crap this is really happening’ moments.
I didn’t write too much about the job because for some time it wasn’t even there and then it happened very suddenly. The federal government is spending some money on rail over the next couple of years and I am going back to do some project management on parts of my old stomping ground (and some new parts as well). It will be good to get back into rail for a while and I am looking forward to seeing some of the people that I now haven’t worked with for the last 3 years or so. Just have to finish packing at this end and of course, go through the whole extraction from the boxes process that happens at the other end.
Caroline and the kids have managed to do the smart thing and are currently traipsing around Switzerland, whilst I finish off work and see the packing finalised. Of course, when one considers the outward journey, there’s probably some justice in that approach because although I didn’t get an overseas holiday, I essentially missed the entire packing effort.
The only two real stress points for me at this stage are the fact that we haven’t managed to sell the caravan or the car. I have someone coming to look at the caravan tonight and hopefully they’re impressed by a) the fact that its a great caravan and b) by the fact that I am in sheer desperation and will be prepared to take a significant hit on it to see it safely off my hands before I head out of here.
Maybe by the time that I actually post this (internet is down just now) I’ll have better news on that front.
And so I am sitting here as the house turns into a series of boxes, waiting for the next step, wishing the next four nights had passed and that I was about to board a plane to go meet up with Caroline and the kids in Switzerland. But I do like to think that we shouldn’t wish our lives away and so I’ll grin and bear it, knowing that each day brings us closer again (at least until the day that I leave them all behind and continue on to Adelaide.
Between now and then appears to be a series of random goodbyes as I run into people and realise that in all likelihood, I am not likely to run into them again, often in strange locations at unexpected times.
One of the hardest things about leaving anywhere is always the special friends that you meet in your time there generally don’t come with you (not matter how much you might beg them to) and so the time until you get to see them again becomes a big unknown. We’ve made plenty of friends from around Australia, so I am sure that that is likely to become a consistent point of holidays into the future, but we’ve also met a lot of wonderful people from Canada. Enough that we’ll be looking to come back on a holiday visit at some point, even if it’s not all the way back to Fort McMurray.
And so as with all departures, there is an air of excitement about, ever so slightly tainted with the disappointment that we won’t be seeing some wonderful people quite as soon as we’d like.
As I sit here and type this theres a small, compressed army working their way through our house with boxes, paper and enough tape to subdue a small herd of buffalo. That’s a good thing, because after four more sleeps i’ll be heading off to the airport to fly out of Fort McMurray for the last foreseeable time.
It’s been a frantic couple of months since the job decided to open up back in Adelaide. Between negotiating exit time frames betwixt the Canadian business (that really didn’t want me to leave until October at best) and the Australian business (who would have ideally liked to have had me in July) and then going through all the ‘oh crap this is really happening’ moments.
I didn’t write too much about the job because for some time it wasn’t even there and then it happened very suddenly. The federal government is spending some money on rail over the next couple of years and I am going back to do some project management on parts of my old stomping ground (and some new parts as well). It will be good to get back into rail for a while and I am looking forward to seeing some of the people that I now haven’t worked with for the last 3 years or so. Just have to finish packing at this end and of course, go through the whole extraction from the boxes process that happens at the other end.
Caroline and the kids have managed to do the smart thing and are currently traipsing around Switzerland, whilst I finish off work and see the packing finalised. Of course, when one considers the outward journey, there’s probably some justice in that approach because although I didn’t get an overseas holiday, I essentially missed the entire packing effort.
The only two real stress points for me at this stage are the fact that we haven’t managed to sell the caravan or the car. I have someone coming to look at the caravan tonight and hopefully they’re impressed by a) the fact that its a great caravan and b) by the fact that I am in sheer desperation and will be prepared to take a significant hit on it to see it safely off my hands before I head out of here.
Maybe by the time that I actually post this (internet is down just now) I’ll have better news on that front.
And so I am sitting here as the house turns into a series of boxes, waiting for the next step, wishing the next four nights had passed and that I was about to board a plane to go meet up with Caroline and the kids in Switzerland. But I do like to think that we shouldn’t wish our lives away and so I’ll grin and bear it, knowing that each day brings us closer again (at least until the day that I leave them all behind and continue on to Adelaide.
Between now and then appears to be a series of random goodbyes as I run into people and realise that in all likelihood, I am not likely to run into them again, often in strange locations at unexpected times.
One of the hardest things about leaving anywhere is always the special friends that you meet in your time there generally don’t come with you (not matter how much you might beg them to) and so the time until you get to see them again becomes a big unknown. We’ve made plenty of friends from around Australia, so I am sure that that is likely to become a consistent point of holidays into the future, but we’ve also met a lot of wonderful people from Canada. Enough that we’ll be looking to come back on a holiday visit at some point, even if it’s not all the way back to Fort McMurray.
And so as with all departures, there is an air of excitement about, ever so slightly tainted with the disappointment that we won’t be seeing some wonderful people quite as soon as we’d like.
Jul 22, 2010
Living by List
There are those amongst us for whom life is a list. I can’t say that I’m really one of them. I have to force myself to write the to-do list and then I have to force myself to remember to look at it to make sure that I’m doing the things that I wrote down.
Caroline on the other hand is a lister for the ages. Last thing at night or first thing in the morning, she’ll be writing her list. Its probably why she’s such a wonderful mother. Heaven knows that with the four kids and everything they bring with them, if it wasn’t for some of those lists, things would quite simply fall apart.
As we start the process of heading home though, I can see that my life for the next couple of months is going to be nothing but a series of lists. It will all be in a good cause of course, but even so, it’s going to be interesting.
On the up side, at least we're on our way home!
Caroline on the other hand is a lister for the ages. Last thing at night or first thing in the morning, she’ll be writing her list. Its probably why she’s such a wonderful mother. Heaven knows that with the four kids and everything they bring with them, if it wasn’t for some of those lists, things would quite simply fall apart.
As we start the process of heading home though, I can see that my life for the next couple of months is going to be nothing but a series of lists. It will all be in a good cause of course, but even so, it’s going to be interesting.
On the up side, at least we're on our way home!
Jul 5, 2010
Proud
Last night was awards night at the kids school and we were fortunate enough to be invited (they only invite you if one of your kids is going to win something). We were in face extra lucky because we were invited on behalf of both Sam and Thomas.
Sam has made honour roll for the last 2 years and had been doing well again this year, so it was somewhat expected that Sam would once again manage honour roll and thus the reason for his invitation.
Thomas on the other hand, has had to work really hard right through school to over come the speech issues that he has and all that it entails with regard to reading and his general speed. He’s certainly a very clever lad and there’s no doubting his intelligence, but he has to work extra hard for his academic accomplishments. One of the most pleasant surprises in our time up here is how much support has been available within the school for Thomas to help him with his speech and related issues.
The one thing that has always been consistent with Thomas though has been his perseverance and willingness to undertake whatever is required for him to get through what he needs to. The other is the fact that his teachers have always said that he’s a willing helper and good role model in class. For that reason I expected that Thomas was going to pick up a ‘most improved student’ or ‘community’ award, so I was more than a little surprised when all the non-academic categories had been awarded and Thomas’ name hadn’t come up.
When it did come up for having made honour roll, my heart burst with pride and I can barely begin to describe how happy I was for him. Both of his older brothers had managed to get honour roll at least once (Michael may yet get it this year but we’re waiting on exam results) and it is ever so satisfying that Thomas has been able to join them in the club.
Congratulations Sam on your Honor roll hat trick and to Thomas for your amazing efforts!
And in a subsequent development (this is a week or so old) Michael managed to pull off Honor Roll as well this year and in addition, topped his class for Maths. Just another reason to be very proud.
Sam has made honour roll for the last 2 years and had been doing well again this year, so it was somewhat expected that Sam would once again manage honour roll and thus the reason for his invitation.
Thomas on the other hand, has had to work really hard right through school to over come the speech issues that he has and all that it entails with regard to reading and his general speed. He’s certainly a very clever lad and there’s no doubting his intelligence, but he has to work extra hard for his academic accomplishments. One of the most pleasant surprises in our time up here is how much support has been available within the school for Thomas to help him with his speech and related issues.
The one thing that has always been consistent with Thomas though has been his perseverance and willingness to undertake whatever is required for him to get through what he needs to. The other is the fact that his teachers have always said that he’s a willing helper and good role model in class. For that reason I expected that Thomas was going to pick up a ‘most improved student’ or ‘community’ award, so I was more than a little surprised when all the non-academic categories had been awarded and Thomas’ name hadn’t come up.
When it did come up for having made honour roll, my heart burst with pride and I can barely begin to describe how happy I was for him. Both of his older brothers had managed to get honour roll at least once (Michael may yet get it this year but we’re waiting on exam results) and it is ever so satisfying that Thomas has been able to join them in the club.
Congratulations Sam on your Honor roll hat trick and to Thomas for your amazing efforts!
And in a subsequent development (this is a week or so old) Michael managed to pull off Honor Roll as well this year and in addition, topped his class for Maths. Just another reason to be very proud.
Jun 13, 2010
The Great American Road Trip Pt.2 - Vegas Baby
After exploring our overnight camp spot for the morning, we finally arrived in Vegas mid afternoon, driving the RV toward the strip in one of those around and about GPS inspired tours, mainly prompted by the fact that we weren’t exactly sure where we were going to stay. It has been intended that we’d sort that out before we got there, but with the changed itinerary, that didn’t quite happen.
We found the strip, and pulled in at one of the first hotels that we came to, which happened to be one of those that Caroline’s research had turned up as a possibility to stay at – the Excalibur.
Eventually we managed to book ourselves in, park the RV and head into the hotel. The kids were super excited about getting to go for a swim, but when we were finally ready, we found out that the pool closed at some stupidly early time (obviously to encourage people to go gambling instead). Instead we decided to head out on the town, find somewhere to eat and see if we could line up some tickets to a Cirque de Soleil show.
The lights came on as we strolled the strip and we researched the best way to buy tickets, found m&m world (where Emily had a melt down as a result of being denied her own personal tube of mini-m&m’s). We had a great dinner and continued our stroll down the strip, taking in the various sights. It was a stupidly windy night – not windy enough to stop me from buying an over-sized margarita, but windy enough to stop the volcano erupting. We had hoped to get to the hotel with the roller coaster than ran on its roof, but in the end the kids were tired and it was totally at the other end of the strip (which is significantly longer than I’d expected) so we turned around and made our way back to our own hotel.
It didn’t appear that the roller coaster at New York New York (next to our own hotel) was running – again probably due to the wind) and with four kids in tow, I was left to walk past rather than into Coyote Ugly. We had to settle for putting the kids to bed and dragging our tired butts down to the casino for some blackjack.
There were no magic millions waiting for us though, so it was off to bed before too long.
Day two we followed through on our research and bought tickets to one of the Cirque de Soleil shows (its amazing how many of them run continuously in Vegas) and then spent most of the afternoon at Circus Circus where the kids indulged in some of the rides and eventually ended up cycling through the laser tag over and over again.
I had an interview with someone from home (that’s not going to result in anything) and after that, we were somewhat rushed to get some dinner in our bellies before going to the show. We thoroughly enjoyed it and then took the kids back and put them to bed.
Caroline and I hit the tables and after initially struggling to find one with a vibe that I liked, settled down in a seat next to a girl with a rather phallic balloon on her head on one side and her friend, wearing one about her waist on the other. They were obviously well into the spirit of Vegas and more importantly, the cards were being kind to me. It turned out that the girl with the balloon on her head was on her bachelorette trip and the other girl was her bridesmaid. She was more than happy to tell me that she was marrying on the 11th of September and that they were both pilots!
It wasn’t long after that that I ordered a drink from one of the waitresses and when she brought it back, I went to give her $10 bucks for it. She kept asking if I was tipping her. I was a little confused as whilst I had intended to tip her, I thought that I needed to pay for the drink first. It was about then that the girls that I was sitting with explained to me that you don’t pay for drinks whilst you’re gambling in Vegas. Hello! Spot the newbie!
Needless to say I had a couple more after that and got to enjoy such things as the bride-to-be shouting out “Look at me Daddy!” at the top of her lungs (her father had joined us at the table). I assume that’s not a saying that’s common in Vegas with some of the entertainment that’s available, but hell, one can’t be too sure and getting told off by the croupier for not talking like a lady. By the time Caroline came over and joined the table I was winning cash and drinking from a penis-straw supplied by the bridesmaid, who was more than impressed when I kept it for each subsequent drink.
Good times indeed.
We found the strip, and pulled in at one of the first hotels that we came to, which happened to be one of those that Caroline’s research had turned up as a possibility to stay at – the Excalibur.
Eventually we managed to book ourselves in, park the RV and head into the hotel. The kids were super excited about getting to go for a swim, but when we were finally ready, we found out that the pool closed at some stupidly early time (obviously to encourage people to go gambling instead). Instead we decided to head out on the town, find somewhere to eat and see if we could line up some tickets to a Cirque de Soleil show.
The lights came on as we strolled the strip and we researched the best way to buy tickets, found m&m world (where Emily had a melt down as a result of being denied her own personal tube of mini-m&m’s). We had a great dinner and continued our stroll down the strip, taking in the various sights. It was a stupidly windy night – not windy enough to stop me from buying an over-sized margarita, but windy enough to stop the volcano erupting. We had hoped to get to the hotel with the roller coaster than ran on its roof, but in the end the kids were tired and it was totally at the other end of the strip (which is significantly longer than I’d expected) so we turned around and made our way back to our own hotel.
It didn’t appear that the roller coaster at New York New York (next to our own hotel) was running – again probably due to the wind) and with four kids in tow, I was left to walk past rather than into Coyote Ugly. We had to settle for putting the kids to bed and dragging our tired butts down to the casino for some blackjack.
There were no magic millions waiting for us though, so it was off to bed before too long.
Day two we followed through on our research and bought tickets to one of the Cirque de Soleil shows (its amazing how many of them run continuously in Vegas) and then spent most of the afternoon at Circus Circus where the kids indulged in some of the rides and eventually ended up cycling through the laser tag over and over again.
I had an interview with someone from home (that’s not going to result in anything) and after that, we were somewhat rushed to get some dinner in our bellies before going to the show. We thoroughly enjoyed it and then took the kids back and put them to bed.
Caroline and I hit the tables and after initially struggling to find one with a vibe that I liked, settled down in a seat next to a girl with a rather phallic balloon on her head on one side and her friend, wearing one about her waist on the other. They were obviously well into the spirit of Vegas and more importantly, the cards were being kind to me. It turned out that the girl with the balloon on her head was on her bachelorette trip and the other girl was her bridesmaid. She was more than happy to tell me that she was marrying on the 11th of September and that they were both pilots!
It wasn’t long after that that I ordered a drink from one of the waitresses and when she brought it back, I went to give her $10 bucks for it. She kept asking if I was tipping her. I was a little confused as whilst I had intended to tip her, I thought that I needed to pay for the drink first. It was about then that the girls that I was sitting with explained to me that you don’t pay for drinks whilst you’re gambling in Vegas. Hello! Spot the newbie!
Needless to say I had a couple more after that and got to enjoy such things as the bride-to-be shouting out “Look at me Daddy!” at the top of her lungs (her father had joined us at the table). I assume that’s not a saying that’s common in Vegas with some of the entertainment that’s available, but hell, one can’t be too sure and getting told off by the croupier for not talking like a lady. By the time Caroline came over and joined the table I was winning cash and drinking from a penis-straw supplied by the bridesmaid, who was more than impressed when I kept it for each subsequent drink.
Good times indeed.
May 31, 2010
Looking for an Exit
As our time in Canada marches inexorably toward its end point, one of the greatest challenges that we’re facing is not knowing what the end point is. It is a great uncertainty that plays with one’s mind.
The process that has been outlined thus far (took some poking, prodding and not-so-subtle kicking to get it moving) essentially boils down to finding yourself a job back in Australia (with the company) and going for it. Once you have that secured, you then need to work around turning that into a date for return.
The company will of course be supporting us in all this and looking for opportunities as well, particularly in areas that lie outside our own sphere of contacts and influence.
It would be easier to feel good about the process if it was a tried and true and we’d had good feedback, but at this stage, its very much a mystery and the first people to be going through it are all doing so at the same time. So far, it doesn’t really seem like there’s hundreds of people jumping up and down to take us all back. I mean, when you think about it, when we all left they had to fill the jobs that we were in. Now, they either have to invent jobs, wait for people to leave or win new work to generate new positions and we’ve all been over here growing in skills and experience and aren’t necessarily looking to go back in the same capacity that we left in.
What that leaves us with is uncertainty. Lots and lots of uncertainty. There’s no fixed date or location, so when do we enrol kids in school? And when we do, which school do we enrol them in? Do we rely on getting something int he state that we want to go to or do we just go with a wing and a prayer. When do we start packing the house?
There’s much to think of, even more to organize and quite frankly its doing my head in and isn’t helped by working a turnaround just now and facing another between now and our mystery exit date!
The process that has been outlined thus far (took some poking, prodding and not-so-subtle kicking to get it moving) essentially boils down to finding yourself a job back in Australia (with the company) and going for it. Once you have that secured, you then need to work around turning that into a date for return.
The company will of course be supporting us in all this and looking for opportunities as well, particularly in areas that lie outside our own sphere of contacts and influence.
It would be easier to feel good about the process if it was a tried and true and we’d had good feedback, but at this stage, its very much a mystery and the first people to be going through it are all doing so at the same time. So far, it doesn’t really seem like there’s hundreds of people jumping up and down to take us all back. I mean, when you think about it, when we all left they had to fill the jobs that we were in. Now, they either have to invent jobs, wait for people to leave or win new work to generate new positions and we’ve all been over here growing in skills and experience and aren’t necessarily looking to go back in the same capacity that we left in.
What that leaves us with is uncertainty. Lots and lots of uncertainty. There’s no fixed date or location, so when do we enrol kids in school? And when we do, which school do we enrol them in? Do we rely on getting something int he state that we want to go to or do we just go with a wing and a prayer. When do we start packing the house?
There’s much to think of, even more to organize and quite frankly its doing my head in and isn’t helped by working a turnaround just now and facing another between now and our mystery exit date!
May 4, 2010
Hairlairious or Hairifying?
Caroline had told me that she was taking all the kids to have hair cuts today and so I was looking forward to seeing them all neat and tidy again when I arrived home from work. All of them except Michael that is because if the last couple of efforts were anything to go by, he was only going to lose an inch or so.
Before I left work, Caroline called to check when I’d been home and dropped into conversation the fact that Michael wasn’t happy with his and so not to be too harsh on him or make any sort of comment that was likely to offend him.
It brought back the time that I had a hair cut that I loved, but that everyone around me thought was something along the lines of ridiculous. My brother’s not so politically correct comment was “that’s fucked,” whilst Dad, being the understanding and creative individual that he is, took one look and said, “wear a hat.”
Well, as if I was going to cave in the face of such opposition! And being conscious of that, I haven’t pushed Michael too hard and wasn’t going to on this occasion either. I was kind of hoping that peer pressure might win him over, but clearly he doesn’t exactly worry about the opinion of his peers! That could be a good thing.
Anyway, I came home from work and was greeted by an ecstatic Thomas, complete with very short hair. Sam was equally happy with his short hair, but there was no sign of Michael or Emily. Turns out that Emily was enjoying some ‘personal time’ as a result of her reaction to the take away Chinese that had been brought home for dinner.
As for Michael, well I was of course most interested to see what had happened to his head. That was rather difficult though because I was soon informed that he had gone into hiding and hadn’t been sighted in the 2 hours since he’d come home from the hair dresser.
Apparently he’d sat and endured the massacre and as soon as it was finished, stormed from the chair directly to the car without even a comment. Needless to say that I was expecting something pretty bad, but decided that I’d have dinner before I bothered facing him. Eventually he was tracked down, but before I could see him, he slipped into his room and stood holding it, refusing entry. I tried to peek through the crack in the door, but that wasn’t going to do much. Michael was in no mind to let me in, going so far as to say that I was the one that he especially didn’t want to see it. I decided to give him time, but Caroline, having dealt with the 2 hour absence decided it was time to confront him. I left her to it.
I finally managed to sneak in to our room when he was talking to Caroline, still far from loving life. I only saw the back at first. It was shorter, maybe an inch above his neck line, may be a little messy. I lay down on the bed, not making any sudden moves or even commenting, waiting to be invited. When he finally did decide that I could have a look and let me see, it wasn’t really that bad at all.
Except for the fact that he hated it and that for a delicate young teenager’s soul that meant the world was ending.
Caroline, being the super-Mum that she is, proposed a solution: One of the Aussies that we’ve met here in Fort Mac happens to be a hair dresser. After a bit of a look on line to see if there was something that Michael might be able to live with after his hair had been ‘butchered’ and an emergency call was put into Mel.
A short time later, Michael was sitting on a chair in the living room, scissors being re-applied to his hair. A short time later again, he was done, there was a smile on his face and the world, whilst not perfect, had certainly tilted back toward a what a 13 year old might consider balanced.
Before I left work, Caroline called to check when I’d been home and dropped into conversation the fact that Michael wasn’t happy with his and so not to be too harsh on him or make any sort of comment that was likely to offend him.
It brought back the time that I had a hair cut that I loved, but that everyone around me thought was something along the lines of ridiculous. My brother’s not so politically correct comment was “that’s fucked,” whilst Dad, being the understanding and creative individual that he is, took one look and said, “wear a hat.”
Well, as if I was going to cave in the face of such opposition! And being conscious of that, I haven’t pushed Michael too hard and wasn’t going to on this occasion either. I was kind of hoping that peer pressure might win him over, but clearly he doesn’t exactly worry about the opinion of his peers! That could be a good thing.
Anyway, I came home from work and was greeted by an ecstatic Thomas, complete with very short hair. Sam was equally happy with his short hair, but there was no sign of Michael or Emily. Turns out that Emily was enjoying some ‘personal time’ as a result of her reaction to the take away Chinese that had been brought home for dinner.
As for Michael, well I was of course most interested to see what had happened to his head. That was rather difficult though because I was soon informed that he had gone into hiding and hadn’t been sighted in the 2 hours since he’d come home from the hair dresser.
Apparently he’d sat and endured the massacre and as soon as it was finished, stormed from the chair directly to the car without even a comment. Needless to say that I was expecting something pretty bad, but decided that I’d have dinner before I bothered facing him. Eventually he was tracked down, but before I could see him, he slipped into his room and stood holding it, refusing entry. I tried to peek through the crack in the door, but that wasn’t going to do much. Michael was in no mind to let me in, going so far as to say that I was the one that he especially didn’t want to see it. I decided to give him time, but Caroline, having dealt with the 2 hour absence decided it was time to confront him. I left her to it.
I finally managed to sneak in to our room when he was talking to Caroline, still far from loving life. I only saw the back at first. It was shorter, maybe an inch above his neck line, may be a little messy. I lay down on the bed, not making any sudden moves or even commenting, waiting to be invited. When he finally did decide that I could have a look and let me see, it wasn’t really that bad at all.
Except for the fact that he hated it and that for a delicate young teenager’s soul that meant the world was ending.
Caroline, being the super-Mum that she is, proposed a solution: One of the Aussies that we’ve met here in Fort Mac happens to be a hair dresser. After a bit of a look on line to see if there was something that Michael might be able to live with after his hair had been ‘butchered’ and an emergency call was put into Mel.
A short time later, Michael was sitting on a chair in the living room, scissors being re-applied to his hair. A short time later again, he was done, there was a smile on his face and the world, whilst not perfect, had certainly tilted back toward a what a 13 year old might consider balanced.
Apr 29, 2010
seven and thirteen
It’s probably a sign of how busy we’ve been and where my head is at that I am lumping two significant events together even though they occurred over a month apart.
On the 21st of March, our little pink thing became a little less little, though certainly no less pink when she turned seven years old.
Bubbly and happy, she continues to exude confidence almost everywhere she goes whilst occasionally slipping into squealy, scared little girl mode, more often than not just for an excuse to get Daddy’s attention I am sure. She was very excited for her birthday, as is more than appropriate for someone turning a massive seven years old. She was especially happy about the party that we held for her with a host (or perhaps more accurately a gaggle) of kids from school. two boys were ‘fortunate’ enough to make the invite list, the first of whom was greatly relieved to be invited into the basement with Emily’s brothers as the girls went crazy around her.
Two moments stand out in my mind from the day, the part where she was opening her presents, seated on the couch, the entire party population crowded around her like petitioners about a court princess.
The second moment occurred when it was time for the pinata. We’ve been through any number of pinata’s over the time that our kids have had birthdays, home made, store bought, but regardless of the origins, they’ve all gone down the same way ... gradually bludgeoned to death by small beings wielding a long blunt object with varying degrees of proficiency.
But for some reason this one was supposed to be different. Not that I had a clue. I did the usual thing, hung it up, lined up the kids and gave them the blunt object. Emily protested loudly but I insisted that this was exactly how it worked and away we went. Each time Emily came up, she took the stick with a dark look and an overly angry and enthusiastic swing. When the candy finally fell, she stormed off with tears in her eyes.
Apparently this was a ‘special’ pinata and everyone was supposed to hold one of the streamers and pull it and that would make the candy fall ... except for the fact that I don’t remember seeing anything about that anywhere on it. She cheered up again soon enough.
One of the big differences that we’re seeing this year is the fact that Emily is learning to write and that she’s more than happy to share her new-found knowledge and skills with us. Its not unusual to find a little note outside the door or scattered about the floor letting us know that the little pink thing does indeed love her Mum and Dad. Of course, with the skills, one doesn’t necessarily develop the filter that social norms might otherwise give us and so we’ve also been known to find amongst the literary marvels the occasional note that says something as blunt as “I hate you”. Of course, that only happens when she doesn’t get her own way!
So at seven, the opinions are stated firmly and loudly, the smiles plentiful, hugs large and genuine, and the mood swings gradually coming along to show us those potentially horrifying glimpses of the future with a teenager!
Which of course leads us to the other momentus occasion that was as recent as yesterday. Michael turned 13, and so we do, in fact have a teenager in the house.
The biggest thing for us with Michael turning 13 this year was as simple as finding something to give him. With departure from Canada on the horizon (even if further than we’d like) it rules out a lot of electronic options as we are better off waiting until we’re back in the land of 240v (even if its more expensive) and we don’t really want to clutter up the house with crap any more than we’ve already managed to. In the end, he decided the he’d really like some roller blades so that along with a few books to read seems to have done the trick.
Michael continues to succeed at school, though I think somewhat reminiscent of another family member, might struggle with some of the more mundane aspects of the schooling. With the age gap to most of the people in his class, he’s struggled to click with a lot of his peers and seems to view them mostly as more trouble than they’re worth. He’s continued to enjoy to read, devouring my bookshelf at a rate that simply blows my mind. Nothing like buying him a book so that he’ll have something to read for the last couple of days of a holiday and seeing him finish it before we even get to the part where we’re traveling home again. Of course, it’s hard to complain when your teenager gets excited about a book shop.
We’re definitely seeing the emotions run hot and cold as Michael embarks on this next stage of life’s journey and I can hardly wait until the communication drops off to grunts and groans! He continues to enjoy his soccer, having been one of the key players in his indoor team.
Summer will be interesting when having just turned 13 he will have to play in a combined U14/16 team. Some of the older kids that I saw playing after the U14 games during the winter were taller than I am. At least the better U16 players will be playing in the men’s league where I’ll have to try and out run (not likely) or out push (highly likely) them. I’m also hoping that he gets a decent coach as I believe that he’d benefit from being coached by someone other than his father (maybe he’d listen a little more and offer a few less opinions).
Regardless of how it turns out, he’s a kid that its easy to be proud of and I hope that he keeps going down the right track ... even if he does need a bloody hair cut.
On the 21st of March, our little pink thing became a little less little, though certainly no less pink when she turned seven years old.
Bubbly and happy, she continues to exude confidence almost everywhere she goes whilst occasionally slipping into squealy, scared little girl mode, more often than not just for an excuse to get Daddy’s attention I am sure. She was very excited for her birthday, as is more than appropriate for someone turning a massive seven years old. She was especially happy about the party that we held for her with a host (or perhaps more accurately a gaggle) of kids from school. two boys were ‘fortunate’ enough to make the invite list, the first of whom was greatly relieved to be invited into the basement with Emily’s brothers as the girls went crazy around her.
Two moments stand out in my mind from the day, the part where she was opening her presents, seated on the couch, the entire party population crowded around her like petitioners about a court princess.
The second moment occurred when it was time for the pinata. We’ve been through any number of pinata’s over the time that our kids have had birthdays, home made, store bought, but regardless of the origins, they’ve all gone down the same way ... gradually bludgeoned to death by small beings wielding a long blunt object with varying degrees of proficiency.
But for some reason this one was supposed to be different. Not that I had a clue. I did the usual thing, hung it up, lined up the kids and gave them the blunt object. Emily protested loudly but I insisted that this was exactly how it worked and away we went. Each time Emily came up, she took the stick with a dark look and an overly angry and enthusiastic swing. When the candy finally fell, she stormed off with tears in her eyes.
Apparently this was a ‘special’ pinata and everyone was supposed to hold one of the streamers and pull it and that would make the candy fall ... except for the fact that I don’t remember seeing anything about that anywhere on it. She cheered up again soon enough.
One of the big differences that we’re seeing this year is the fact that Emily is learning to write and that she’s more than happy to share her new-found knowledge and skills with us. Its not unusual to find a little note outside the door or scattered about the floor letting us know that the little pink thing does indeed love her Mum and Dad. Of course, with the skills, one doesn’t necessarily develop the filter that social norms might otherwise give us and so we’ve also been known to find amongst the literary marvels the occasional note that says something as blunt as “I hate you”. Of course, that only happens when she doesn’t get her own way!
So at seven, the opinions are stated firmly and loudly, the smiles plentiful, hugs large and genuine, and the mood swings gradually coming along to show us those potentially horrifying glimpses of the future with a teenager!
Which of course leads us to the other momentus occasion that was as recent as yesterday. Michael turned 13, and so we do, in fact have a teenager in the house.
The biggest thing for us with Michael turning 13 this year was as simple as finding something to give him. With departure from Canada on the horizon (even if further than we’d like) it rules out a lot of electronic options as we are better off waiting until we’re back in the land of 240v (even if its more expensive) and we don’t really want to clutter up the house with crap any more than we’ve already managed to. In the end, he decided the he’d really like some roller blades so that along with a few books to read seems to have done the trick.
Michael continues to succeed at school, though I think somewhat reminiscent of another family member, might struggle with some of the more mundane aspects of the schooling. With the age gap to most of the people in his class, he’s struggled to click with a lot of his peers and seems to view them mostly as more trouble than they’re worth. He’s continued to enjoy to read, devouring my bookshelf at a rate that simply blows my mind. Nothing like buying him a book so that he’ll have something to read for the last couple of days of a holiday and seeing him finish it before we even get to the part where we’re traveling home again. Of course, it’s hard to complain when your teenager gets excited about a book shop.
We’re definitely seeing the emotions run hot and cold as Michael embarks on this next stage of life’s journey and I can hardly wait until the communication drops off to grunts and groans! He continues to enjoy his soccer, having been one of the key players in his indoor team.
Summer will be interesting when having just turned 13 he will have to play in a combined U14/16 team. Some of the older kids that I saw playing after the U14 games during the winter were taller than I am. At least the better U16 players will be playing in the men’s league where I’ll have to try and out run (not likely) or out push (highly likely) them. I’m also hoping that he gets a decent coach as I believe that he’d benefit from being coached by someone other than his father (maybe he’d listen a little more and offer a few less opinions).
Regardless of how it turns out, he’s a kid that its easy to be proud of and I hope that he keeps going down the right track ... even if he does need a bloody hair cut.
Apr 21, 2010
The Great American Road Trip Pt. 1
In retrospect, referring to our holiday as our Great Griswaldian Adventure in the weeks and months leading up to it may have been a less than inspired choice, if for no other reason than feeling like it’s poking fate in the eye and waiting for a reaction.
Caroline and I were up until after midnight the day before the trip, making sure that we would have everything that we would need and that it had been compressed into suitably small shapes so as to allow us to board a plane.
The day of depature, Michael and Sam had their indoor soccer finals and the original plan had been to go straight from the soccer to the airport where we’d abandon the car for a couple of weeks. When I looked at the luggage that needed to go in the car it was readily apparent that one car stuffed to overflowing simply wasn’t a good answer, not to mention the fact that the last minute panic meant that we weren’t all ready to go at the same time.
So two cars it was to soccer, with Michael and Sam both coming away with Gold medals after their respective games. Following that, it was a dash to the house, loading everything into the car to the point of imminent explosion and off to the airport. I dropped Caroline, the kids and the luggage off at the door and was about to go park the car when Caroline asked me where my hand luggage was.
Oh crap.
The instant she asked me, it flashed through my mind. In order to pack the luggage in the car I’d moved my car out of the garage. When I’d packed everything else, I put my hand luggage down on the ground. Because the garage was full of mud from the snow, I put it on one of the few clean spots. To get Caroline’s car out I had to move mine back in, which meant that my luggage was now right in front of my car. In fact, it was basically underneath the front. We all piled in the car and left, sans my hand luggage.
My instant reaction was to flee home to get it, but we were close enough to boarding that I didn’t think I’d have time. I gave it up and went to park the car.
Urgent calls to the one person that had access to our house went unanswered.
When I came back from parking the car, Caroline told me there’d been a slight delay and that I may have time. I fled the airport, mind whirling, eyes on my watch and doing the arithmetic. If I sped the whole way home and back again, I might make it just in time IF they took 10 minutes to board and I could get in at the last second. A bad run of lights, getting booked for speeding, or simply having to park a little too far away would potentially mean missing the flight.
I stopped, turned around and returned to the terminal, where Emily unfurled herself from her mother’s arms to give me a big hug. She’d been terrified that Daddy might not make it on the plane.
Normally missing my hand luggage wouldn’t mean a lot. No book to read, no iPod for the journey, possibly even missing a snack I’d packed. On this occasion however, I’d happened to pack the bag with all the charges for our cameras as well as the video camera in my backpack instead of the luggage.
As we flew to LA, we considered our options. We’d get some photos, but would probably exhaust batteries fairly quickly and we’d have no video. Our first point of call out of LA was intended to be the Grand Canyon. Surely that wouldn’t put too great a strain on the cameras! Yeah, right.
Option 1 was try and find a retailer that would sell us new battery chargers for the cameras. Likely to be expensive.
Option 2 was to have Nancy go to our house, retrieve the bag and courier it to us. If we went down that path, it would also be expensive and involve a change of plans so that we could be in a location where we could receive mail.
We settled on option 2, forked out the requisite arm and leg and changed our plans to head straight to Vegas from LA rather than the Grand Canyon.
And with that happy little start, our vacation was underway!
Caroline and I were up until after midnight the day before the trip, making sure that we would have everything that we would need and that it had been compressed into suitably small shapes so as to allow us to board a plane.
The day of depature, Michael and Sam had their indoor soccer finals and the original plan had been to go straight from the soccer to the airport where we’d abandon the car for a couple of weeks. When I looked at the luggage that needed to go in the car it was readily apparent that one car stuffed to overflowing simply wasn’t a good answer, not to mention the fact that the last minute panic meant that we weren’t all ready to go at the same time.
So two cars it was to soccer, with Michael and Sam both coming away with Gold medals after their respective games. Following that, it was a dash to the house, loading everything into the car to the point of imminent explosion and off to the airport. I dropped Caroline, the kids and the luggage off at the door and was about to go park the car when Caroline asked me where my hand luggage was.
Oh crap.
The instant she asked me, it flashed through my mind. In order to pack the luggage in the car I’d moved my car out of the garage. When I’d packed everything else, I put my hand luggage down on the ground. Because the garage was full of mud from the snow, I put it on one of the few clean spots. To get Caroline’s car out I had to move mine back in, which meant that my luggage was now right in front of my car. In fact, it was basically underneath the front. We all piled in the car and left, sans my hand luggage.
My instant reaction was to flee home to get it, but we were close enough to boarding that I didn’t think I’d have time. I gave it up and went to park the car.
Urgent calls to the one person that had access to our house went unanswered.
When I came back from parking the car, Caroline told me there’d been a slight delay and that I may have time. I fled the airport, mind whirling, eyes on my watch and doing the arithmetic. If I sped the whole way home and back again, I might make it just in time IF they took 10 minutes to board and I could get in at the last second. A bad run of lights, getting booked for speeding, or simply having to park a little too far away would potentially mean missing the flight.
I stopped, turned around and returned to the terminal, where Emily unfurled herself from her mother’s arms to give me a big hug. She’d been terrified that Daddy might not make it on the plane.
Normally missing my hand luggage wouldn’t mean a lot. No book to read, no iPod for the journey, possibly even missing a snack I’d packed. On this occasion however, I’d happened to pack the bag with all the charges for our cameras as well as the video camera in my backpack instead of the luggage.
As we flew to LA, we considered our options. We’d get some photos, but would probably exhaust batteries fairly quickly and we’d have no video. Our first point of call out of LA was intended to be the Grand Canyon. Surely that wouldn’t put too great a strain on the cameras! Yeah, right.
Option 1 was try and find a retailer that would sell us new battery chargers for the cameras. Likely to be expensive.
Option 2 was to have Nancy go to our house, retrieve the bag and courier it to us. If we went down that path, it would also be expensive and involve a change of plans so that we could be in a location where we could receive mail.
We settled on option 2, forked out the requisite arm and leg and changed our plans to head straight to Vegas from LA rather than the Grand Canyon.
And with that happy little start, our vacation was underway!
Jasper Juniors
This year, rather than spend our winters freezing our butts off at, and shuttling back and forth between ice rinks, we managed to keep the kids out of any ice sports and pursue other options.
The boys all played indoor soccer and Emily and Thomas joined the Nancy Greene Ski Program. Emily would have loved to have played indoor soccer but unfortunately her games would have been on Saturday which simply wasn't conducive to the lifestyle that we wanted this year. At least when the kids are skiing we get to indulge as well.
One of the things that the Nancy Greene program enables the kids to do is participate in ski races, something which Caroline and I were certainly excited about, regardless of whether Emily and Thomas thought it would be particularly special or not.
With our other commitments and fun (like holidaying in the Caribbean) we didn’t actually get to as many of these events as we’d have liked, but we did make the one that we considered most important - the Jasper Junior Olympics.
It was held the week after we arrived back from our cruise, so we went from the sand to the snow in a very short space of time. Caroline and the kids went on the bus on the Thursday, whilst I worked through Friday. Then I caught the plane to Edmonton and drove out in a little Hyundai to meet them in Jasper.
It almost uneventful except for the bit where I was driving along at the permitted 110kms/hour and looked up to see the back end of what I think was an Elk wandering off the road to my right. I hit the skids, veered into the left lane and set the heart racing to about a billion beats a minute. I slowed down and considered just how bloody lucky i was that there hadn’t been anyone in the lane along side me, not to mention that it hadn’t been the front end of the animal that I’d seen! Otherwise it would have been a very very messy experience.
Eventually I controlled the heart and made it the rest of the way and by the time that I’d managed to make it to the Rockies proper, I was in a suitable frame of mind to admire the absolutely stunning view as the bright, silvery light of a very full moon cast its ethereal glow across the snow-capped mountains. It was truly wonderful and I would have given a lot to have had a camera handy (not to mention some decent photography skills) so that I could have captured it to share.
The following day we were up bright and early to pack ourselves onto the team bus so that we could head up to the mountain to do some skiing (oh and um, watch the kids too). The kids were split into age groups and genders for racing and the older kids skied on a tougher course. That meant that Emily would be skiing down a green run near the base of the mountain whilst Thomas would ski at the top on a black run! Caroline was kind enough to do our volunteer duty so that I could fit in some extra skiing (something about having missed most of the Christmas ski adventure).
It was going to be a delicate task once the kids were ready to ski as all we had to go by was the number of their bib as to when they would be coming down the mountain. Michael and Sam and I did some exploration to make sure that we’d be able to get from one to the other in time the waited near Emily’s run for her first race.
It was very cute to see the little kids skiing their hearts out as they weaved in and out of the gates to get the fastest time that they could. On the first day they would each have two timed races to see who could produce the quickest time.
Emily fared very well in her event, coming in 11th in her age group, which was just one place short of getting a ribbon! After her first run we raced to the bottom, caught the lift back to the top and skied across to Thomas’ course. We had to repeat it for the second run in the afternoon.
Thomas skied well on his first run, but unfortunately on his second, lost his edges about 5 gates from the finish. He got up quickly and kept skiing, but hadn’t realized that he’d missed a gate in the process and sadly ended with a DNF (did not finish). That meant that he didn’t get an official time for his runs, but from his first run he was around the middle of the pack. When you see the speed some of the kids that have been skiing (and racing) for many years achieve, middle of the pack is bloody good.
On the second day, the racing was a team event, with the various ski teams competing against each other. This meant that each skier would participate in two tandem slalom races, weaving through the gates side by side against their competitor (based on their time from the previous day). Apparently there’s then some mathematical wizardry around which teams win how many of their races to determine the overall winner.
Again Emily was the first down the mountain and she managed to get over the line first, smiling as she came over the line. I had a little more concern for as although he had put a brave face on the disappointment of the Saturday, I knew that he really wanted to be able to say that he had won something.
In his first race he managed to well and truly beat his opponent over the line. Then we raced off to see Emily again. In the first race they came down one side of the course and then in the second race came down the other, I assume to even out any slight imbalances in the positioning of the various gates. Emily went close, but was just beaten over the line before we scuttled off to the top of the mountain for the last time.
Thomas skied his best and again managed to get himself over the line, coming out with a double victory and happily, a good story to tell about his efforts at the Jasper Junior Olympics.
From there it was just a casual bus ride back to the Mac. All 10 hours or so of it!
The boys all played indoor soccer and Emily and Thomas joined the Nancy Greene Ski Program. Emily would have loved to have played indoor soccer but unfortunately her games would have been on Saturday which simply wasn't conducive to the lifestyle that we wanted this year. At least when the kids are skiing we get to indulge as well.
One of the things that the Nancy Greene program enables the kids to do is participate in ski races, something which Caroline and I were certainly excited about, regardless of whether Emily and Thomas thought it would be particularly special or not.
With our other commitments and fun (like holidaying in the Caribbean) we didn’t actually get to as many of these events as we’d have liked, but we did make the one that we considered most important - the Jasper Junior Olympics.
It was held the week after we arrived back from our cruise, so we went from the sand to the snow in a very short space of time. Caroline and the kids went on the bus on the Thursday, whilst I worked through Friday. Then I caught the plane to Edmonton and drove out in a little Hyundai to meet them in Jasper.
It almost uneventful except for the bit where I was driving along at the permitted 110kms/hour and looked up to see the back end of what I think was an Elk wandering off the road to my right. I hit the skids, veered into the left lane and set the heart racing to about a billion beats a minute. I slowed down and considered just how bloody lucky i was that there hadn’t been anyone in the lane along side me, not to mention that it hadn’t been the front end of the animal that I’d seen! Otherwise it would have been a very very messy experience.
Eventually I controlled the heart and made it the rest of the way and by the time that I’d managed to make it to the Rockies proper, I was in a suitable frame of mind to admire the absolutely stunning view as the bright, silvery light of a very full moon cast its ethereal glow across the snow-capped mountains. It was truly wonderful and I would have given a lot to have had a camera handy (not to mention some decent photography skills) so that I could have captured it to share.
The following day we were up bright and early to pack ourselves onto the team bus so that we could head up to the mountain to do some skiing (oh and um, watch the kids too). The kids were split into age groups and genders for racing and the older kids skied on a tougher course. That meant that Emily would be skiing down a green run near the base of the mountain whilst Thomas would ski at the top on a black run! Caroline was kind enough to do our volunteer duty so that I could fit in some extra skiing (something about having missed most of the Christmas ski adventure).
It was going to be a delicate task once the kids were ready to ski as all we had to go by was the number of their bib as to when they would be coming down the mountain. Michael and Sam and I did some exploration to make sure that we’d be able to get from one to the other in time the waited near Emily’s run for her first race.
It was very cute to see the little kids skiing their hearts out as they weaved in and out of the gates to get the fastest time that they could. On the first day they would each have two timed races to see who could produce the quickest time.
Emily fared very well in her event, coming in 11th in her age group, which was just one place short of getting a ribbon! After her first run we raced to the bottom, caught the lift back to the top and skied across to Thomas’ course. We had to repeat it for the second run in the afternoon.
Thomas skied well on his first run, but unfortunately on his second, lost his edges about 5 gates from the finish. He got up quickly and kept skiing, but hadn’t realized that he’d missed a gate in the process and sadly ended with a DNF (did not finish). That meant that he didn’t get an official time for his runs, but from his first run he was around the middle of the pack. When you see the speed some of the kids that have been skiing (and racing) for many years achieve, middle of the pack is bloody good.
On the second day, the racing was a team event, with the various ski teams competing against each other. This meant that each skier would participate in two tandem slalom races, weaving through the gates side by side against their competitor (based on their time from the previous day). Apparently there’s then some mathematical wizardry around which teams win how many of their races to determine the overall winner.
Again Emily was the first down the mountain and she managed to get over the line first, smiling as she came over the line. I had a little more concern for as although he had put a brave face on the disappointment of the Saturday, I knew that he really wanted to be able to say that he had won something.
In his first race he managed to well and truly beat his opponent over the line. Then we raced off to see Emily again. In the first race they came down one side of the course and then in the second race came down the other, I assume to even out any slight imbalances in the positioning of the various gates. Emily went close, but was just beaten over the line before we scuttled off to the top of the mountain for the last time.
Thomas skied his best and again managed to get himself over the line, coming out with a double victory and happily, a good story to tell about his efforts at the Jasper Junior Olympics.
From there it was just a casual bus ride back to the Mac. All 10 hours or so of it!
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