Resolutions

So when I finished putting up the Christmas lights for this season, I had an epiphany of sorts.

I tried a different method this year, one I don’t think I’ve ever tried before. I put up the lights in the dark. Yep, started at 5:30 pm. The sun had been down for about an hour. I was smart enough to make sure the temperature was right around zero Celsius and not as cold as two years ago when I had the boys help me and it was about -20 C (but sunny). That was just a learning opportunity for them. I also learned that they had a bigger vocabulary than I thought, so it was a win-win all around.

Cats

I've been lucky to have a lot of pets in my life – predominantly dogs, but we did have a cat once for a few years as I was growing up. My family seemed to get the goofballs of the animal world. I’m not saying that it was because my family was a bunch of goofballs either, because that would get me pummelled at our next get together. Those of you that know me and my family, hold your tongues.

The cat was an all-black Burmese with a crooked tail, about five pounds and more like a dog than any other cat I have ever met. We called her Bree and she would wait for us to get home from school at the back door and “Me-yah” us as we came in. Not ‘meow’ but ‘me-yah’. Don’t ask. Couldn’t tell you. I don’t speak cat.

Higher Learning

I was speaking with my niece a few days ago about her experiences during her first semester of University. Talking about all the lame courses you have to take before you can get to the good ones in second year, the goofy people that surround you at residence and the even goofier professors you have to put up with over the next four years.

That conversation got me to thinking. I know that may surprise many who know me, but I actually do think once in a while.

New Year Socks

New Year, new day. new socks. It’s been a good year so far. There’s nothing like putting on a pair of brand new socks first thing in the morning. The smooth feel along the bottom of your foot, the way your heel slides right into the heel cup and none of that pesky sock fluff piling up between your toes right away.

This may all sound pretty funny coming from a guy who goes barefoot in the middle of the winter. I put this down to my early hockey years. I spent so many weekends and evenings at the rink as a kid, putting skates on at -20 degrees (Fahrenheit or Celsius, take your pick) that I learned quickly how to keep my feet warm almost anywhere.

Tourist Tales

I have been a tourist. There, I’ve said it. I admit to doing and saying things in other countries that I would never do here at home. Get your mind out of the gutter. I’m talking about things like saying “How much does that mountain weigh?” or stepping off a curb in England looking the wrong way for traffic. I know I’m not the only one, either. I’m sure we’ve (meaning you, too) have all done silly things when we’ve traveled.

Take my buddy, Murray. Please. (Sorry, that was too easy...)

Bathroom Blues

We recently rearranged the house, swapping bedrooms between siblings. The boys are now both downstairs (now named the “man cave”, more due to the aromas than the residents) and my daughter has taken over the second upstairs bedroom.

With this so-called minor move, along with all the grunting and groaning whilst moving the furniture, my daughter also moved her bathroom and grooming tools to the upstairs bathroom. This also produced some epic grunting and groaning, mostly from me.

Falling in New Zealand

As I sit here thinking of islands and island life, another memory has just surfaced from my time in New Zealand. Really, it honestly surfaced. Here’s what happened.

Murray, Cliff and I were on the north island, inland a bit from a town called Waitangi. The folks in the hostel said there was a great hike that led to a nice waterfall and lagoon that we could swim in. Still trusting the Kiwi sense of time and distance, we asked them for directions. They said once we got to the stone church, it was about forty-five minutes through the forest to the falls. And the church was supposedly only ten minutes away.

Old-style Neighbourhood

I grew up in an unusual neighbourhood. Everyone knew everyone else and yet, they still enjoyed getting together with each other. Out of about twenty homes on the street, I could go into at least nine of them and raid the fridge for milk and cookies anytime I wanted. They wouldn’t even call the police! Imagine having nine complete households to hang out in! It was great.

Having all those good neighbours also meant that there was nine households that needed garbage taken out or the poop scoop done, eighteen adults that could call me over from the park to help them with chores, nine sets of parents keeping an eye on me. If I misbehaved at the park, by the time I made my way home (six houses away), my Mom would be waiting for me at the front door, already up-to-date with my misdemeanour. I keep telling the Government to use moms for intelligence gathering – they always know everything!

Warehouse Stores

I had to get batteries the other day. With all the game console controllers needing AA batteries and every flashlight in the immediate vicinity dead as a doornail, it was time to resupply. You all know what that means.

A trip to the warehouse store.

Just typing that phrase has sent shivers down my spine. On one hand, it’s the excitement of seeing all the new items they have artfully arranged throughout the 75,000 square feet of space. On the other hand, it’s the knowledge that once you enter the warehouse store, you will never, ever, leave the building with just one item. Even if you hide your wallet in your socks, it’s like a stealth siphon, emptying your bank account when you get within 600 meters of the building.

Similarities mean Trouble

A while ago I wrote about how opposites attract. It’s still my opinion that Mother Nature does this on purpose to keep the world in balance. Otherwise we humans would probably die out in very short order. Like by next Tuesday.

Here’s an example of how two people that are very similar get along. They’ll remain nameless to protect their identities as well as protecting me from their wrath.

Funny Time

Time is a funny thing. Most think that it’s very regular, tick-tock-tick-tock, but really, it isn’t. Ask any student that has to finish a project by morning or a parent at 4:00 a.m. taking care of a sick child. Trust me, for the student, time speeds up and for the parent, it virtually stops. Been there, done that and lost both the t-shirts.

I can’t get over how long this so-called understanding of Time has been perpetuated. Every kid knows that summer days are approximately 22.5 hours long from sunrise to sunset during summer vacation. Every adult knows that their eight hour workday is also approximately 22.5 hours long, yet the clocks on the wall all want us to believe only eight hours have passed.

Neighbourhoods...

I grew up in an unusual neighbourhood. Everyone knew everyone else and yet, they still enjoyed getting together with each other. Out of about twenty homes on the street, I could go into at least nine of them and raid the fridge for milk and cookies anytime I wanted. They wouldn’t even call the police! Imagine having nine complete households to hang out in! It was great.

Sailing in Paihia

I just received an email from a friend who has moved down to New Zealand for a year with her family. Every email I’ve gotten has had the requisite photos attached and a description of where they’ve been on this weekend and where they’ll be going next week.

I may never speak to them again when they get back. Not jealous at all. Nope.

The email does remind me of when my buddies, Murray, Cliff and I, all went to New Zealand and Australia for six months in between years at University. The fact that the University encouraged me to take a year off to reassess my academic goals had nothing to do with going on the trip.

Cats and Dogs

One of my friends I grew up with had a Springer Spaniel dog named Liz and a cat named Cat. Liz was a pretty excitable dog, really friendly but easily bored and always wanting to play. I think they named her after a relative. They named the cat ‘Cat’ because their dad said why should they name an animal when it wouldn’t come when it was called anyway.

Cat put up with the dog as cats will, ignoring her completely or tormenting her by kicking all the dog food out of the bowl. Liz probably just thought that dinner was a smorgasbord every night – more fun hunting kibble when it was spread all over the house.

Family Pranks

People sometimes wonder where I got my sense of humour from. Actually, people sometimes just wonder about me in general. Oh well.

I’m going to come right and say it’s all my parents’ fault. Mostly my dad’s to be honest.  He’s 77 years old this year, going on twelve. He’ll still deny stealing a fresh baked cookie, even when he has chocolate on his face and crumbs on his shirt. That’s consistency!

Sense of Humour

I can’t imagine living life without a sense of humour. I actually don’t think anyone can really accomplish that – I mean, look around you! Just looking at your relatives or coworkers will tell you that God has a sense of humour and he passed it on to us!

I had this epiphany one night walking back to my apartment after a late class at University.

Opposites Attract

We were driving the other day, out on the highway and started talking about the small compass that my son bought for the car and stuck on the dashboard. This got me to thinking about how opposites attract.

Believe it or not, that’s how the creative process starts, at least for me. Try to follow along...

Writers

Being a writer is a weird thing. This is my opinion. Maybe it’s yours as well, but I think I’ll stick with my own point of view for the moment. It’s probably safer for everyone. Sing along if you want.

Now that I have the chance to actually think and create and write on a regular basis, I find myself staring off into space a lot more than I used to. Some of you may not notice a difference, but believe me, next time you see me with the thousand yard stare, you can be sure that I am working away diligently...

Self-serve counters

Technology is a great thing, when it’s been thought out properly. I love techie stuff, all of it. Cool phones, shiny lights, buttons everywhere, obviously built to attract the male of the species. Kind of like crows and magpies, come to think of it. Hmmm, I don’t like where this is going...

Anyway, I really want to talk about the new “self-serve” check-out counters every store seems to have installed.

When they first arrived, I thought they were a pretty good idea – cheaper for manpower and faster for the folks that only buy a few items. Seeing how I buy groceries for three teenagers, it didn’t seem likely that I would ever get to use one of these counters at a grocery store for the foreseeable future.

Losing your Mind

Have you ever lost your mind? I have. Take my advice – once you lose your mind, don’t bother looking for it. There are better things to do than look for something that’s only going to get you into trouble.

It’s like forgetting your lady’s birthday, your anniversary or Valentine’s Day. You know these dates come every year, so put them in the smart phone, send them to your own email address or better yet, staple a note to your forehead at the beginning of the year. That way, your girl can rip the reminder off your head and hand it to you a couple of days beforehand. Believe me, it’s cheaper than a data plan for your phone. And a lot less painful than trying to apologize for missing an important date...