Meet your heroes

Last night, I was going through a collection of e-mail that had been held up due to a system problem. One of them was an invitation by one of my favorite authors at www.fanfiction.net. He gave me his phone number, saying that he would like to discuss my writing and comments I had submitted about his. He also gave me the option of having him phone me, since he has a very good long distance plan.

No sooner did I finish typing an e-mail response than the phone rang. It was "Neb", as he is known to us in the fan fiction. He was calling me all the way from Texas, just to talk writing with me. This is a man who is widely admired in our little world of Kim Possible fandom, who has contact with a number or brilliant writers. What in the name of my great aunt Matilda's bicycle shorts was I going to discuss with him?

I am rather embarrassed to say that I made a fool of myself, going on at length about the current story line I am reading. He sucked me in with this one, and to be honest, I stand in awe of his writing abilities. I don't understand how any publisher could ever have rejected his work. He gave me a lot of insight into what I have just been reading.

If you ever have the chance, meet your heroes. Sometimes you just might learn that you have the potential to do what they do, if even on just a smaller scale. All I did was talk to 'Neb on the phone, but that was enough to have me willing to keep at this writing thing.

Taking our girl to the vet.

This is our darling baby, Isabelle. Yesterday we took her for her annual physical at the vet's office. This is traumatising for an indoor cat, who only goes out in her carrier once each year. It is also expensive, but worth every penny.


She is in perfect health, according "Dr. Devin". She is carrying a little more weight than he would like to see, but that is common in indoor cats that have been spayed. He checked her teeth, and they are good as well.

This was her year for a feline distemper shot. She was very good about it, not even flinching as Dr. Hunt put the needle in. Which is more than can be said for poor Sandra, who hates needles with a passion. She just sat there and gave us her version of the puppy-dog-pout (which I must discuss in another post) as if to tell us, "I really want to go home now!"

The most difficult part of the whole process is travelling. Cats were not made to ride in hot muggy cars for half an hour each way. While the car was in motion, she was fine, but if we had to stop for more than a few seconds, she would meow at us. I felt so bad for her.

Still, she came through safe and sound, and is good for another year.

If only it were so simple with her big sister!

They grow up so fast.

My youngest niece just turned fifteen yesterday. Fifteen. It's hard to wrap my head around the idea that we don't have any little girls anymore. Any day now she could start bringing home, gasp, boys.

Sure, it's a cliche, but it seems like just yesterday we saw her going to school for the first time. She used to sit in the laundry basket and let her sisters pull her around the house. She screamed when you told her it was bath time and then screamed when you told her to get out of that cold, filthy water.

Barbie dolls were replaced by mp3s and clothing accessories.

On the other hand, our baby isn't a baby anymore either.

As the youngest, we pampered her a bit too much, so she was never very independent. Now she is able to get out and do things on her own more. At her sister's graduation, she sat down the row, so that her uncle and aunt would have seats. Surrounded by strangers, and she was calm and respectful. Something like that would have thrown her into a sheer panic attack just a few months ago.

I am very proud of my Darling Darlene. She's come such a long way. I can't wait to see how far she goes.

Nothing today, folks. A wicked headache has shut down my mental server and crashed my ambition hard drive.

Where does the time go?

My oldest niece graduated from high school last night. Sandra and I went to the commencement ceremony.

All of a sudden, I felt... old. Where did the time go? It seems like just a few weeks ago I was in my first year at University, and I got word that Steph was born. Now, here she is getting set to start off in the same path. Somehow, you just lose sight of the fact that the kids you used to give horsey rides grow up.

It was a pretty good ceremony, as these things go. Being a Catholic school, there was a short liturgy before the program began. There were certainly enough awards and bursaries handed out. The one kid isn't going to have to pay for his first year of post secondary education, by the looks of things. In a class of 120, there were almost thirty awards.

My next oldest niece is hot on the heels of her sister. She has made great strides from a child who had a learning disability. Mellissa has actually chosen a career path, and knows what she needs to do to get there.

I remember when their biggest decision was what flavour of freezy they wanted to have in the summer. Now they are deciding what to do with the rest of their lives.

Where does the time go?

Lost on-line

A few weeks back, I made a "friend" on-line. He was a fellow writer in the fan fiction site that I frequently live in. In the course of reviewing each other's work and general chatting in forums, I got to like him. He's an interesting guy, from what I can tell.

Not too long ago, his sister developed complications from a congenital illness. He was very afraid that he was going to lose her, and sent a mass e-mail out to say that he was suspending his writing activities until further notice. I wrote him a personal message, letting him know that I could understand that he had more important things to concentrate on.

Now he has decided to take down his account at fan fiction. I am not clear on the reason. It would seem that he felt that he was being disrespected by other members of the site, and that it just wasn't right for him anymore. This all happened in the course of a couple of hours last night. I never even got the chance to chat with him before he left to dismantle his account.

Maybe I'm a little over sensitive here, but I hate the thought of losing a friend without knowing what is going on. It isn't my place to tell him not to leave the site if he is not comfortable there, so my options are limited.

I did send him an e-mail letting him know that I didn't want to lose touch with him completely. He has my address, and can send me messages anytime that he wants. I hope he takes advantage of the offer. I so hate to lose people on-line.

Changing of the locks

As you may recall, I wrote recently that our building superintendent suddenly resigned his position. Naturally, that meant that the master keys had to be changed. It seems that it was most important in this case. There is a major dispute about the reason he quit.

Anyway, the locksmiths were here yesterday. A letter had been circulated to let the tenants know before hand, and still several couldn't be bothered to be on hand. Of course, it was a Sunday, and nice out. The guys will come back after the property manager has had a chance to contact the people who were missed yesterday.

I happen to know the property manger from school, so he asked me to be on hand if there were any problems. You know, to kinda smooth things over if anybody had questions.

In fact, I might have a bit of a job come from all of this. They want to put an assistant super into each building that they have here in town. If it flies with head office, I might get that position. It doesn't pay much, but it doesn't require much work either. Basically, I would just be keeping an eye on the building, watching for trouble. Heck, I do it anyway.

I like to keep an eye on the place. It's home.

Sleep or the lack thereof

I don't know what is wrong with me these days. If I'm not sleeping in late, I'm getting up two hours before my alarm is set to go off. There just doesn't seem to be a happy medium. Granted, I can function well enough on six hours of sleep, since my day doesn't involve any heavy physical labour.

Some research says that the human body should dictate how much sleep we should get, that we will wake up when there has been enough rest for our systems to recuperate from the previous day. Other studies suggest that we should regiment our sleep patterns, rising and going to bed at the same time each and every day. It all depends on who is doing the study and who is funding them.

When I was diagnosed as having muscular dystrophy, my doctor advised me that I should just sleep whenever I feel the need, and not force it when I don't. She said that my body would tell me when it needed to recover from stress and activity. There are going to be times, I was told, when I will have a "tired spell", and that I would learn to live around them.

Honestly though, I would love to be able to live according to some schedule. Ever since I had to resign from my last position for medical reasons, I've felt kind of in limbo. My mother says that is a result of always having had some place that I really needed to be. It would be nice to have a job that I could physically handle, but would regulate just how much I am sleeping, and when.

Besides which, a job outside of the home would get me out of my wife's hair once in a while. One of these days, she's going to get sick of me.

But that is a whole other post.

Fresh and in season

My wife and I went out to get a basket of fresh strawberries today. With the sudden rise of temperature this spring, and the recent rainfall, the crop came in early this year. We love to have the berries for dessert on warm summer evenings.

I love the idea of buying locally grown produce whenever possible. It is better for the environment and better for the economy of the area. Farmers markets are a great boon, with the best produce that can be had, at the best possible price, since it didn't have to be shipped. You always know that it is fresh, and hasn't been sitting in trucks and warehouses for the last six days.

Ottawa's Byward Market used to be one of my favorite places in the world. The smells, the colors and the sounds just screamed out to me each fall. I would think that most cities would set aside some space for a good farmers market.

When my parents came to visit with me once, we made a trip to the Byward Market, especially to get some fresh produce to make supper. Is there anything can beat a salad made with lettuce picked less than twenty-four hours previously? I think not.

So, go out and support your local farmers. Plan meals around whatever happens to be in season. Your local economy will thank you, the environment will thank you, and most importantly, you stomach will thank you.

Dinner last night

Supper went quite well last night actually. For the most part, people just stuck to the tables they had chosen to sit at. Nobody decided to air grievances.

My mother-in-law actually managed to put away a full order of lasagna! You have to understand, Mary weighs all of 98 lbs, and usually eats like a bird. These portions were huge, to the point of ridiculous. I don't know where my wife and I put our suppers, so it's a real mystery in my mother-in-law's case.

Conveniently, we had the photos we took of the Bluenose with us, and they made the rounds of the tables. A lot of the people who were there plan to go to either Prescott or Cornwall when she makes port again next week. It's always nice to take something to add to conversation.

Mary also won a little door prize. One person at each table got to take home the candle that the pastor had put on the tables. She also got one of the extras. There were more people originally signed up, but could not attend because grand children were graduating.

When it was time to pay the cheques, the cash register was up three or four steps. Given how much trouble I had with them, I knew that some of the older ladies would be in a similar position. Having been brought up correctly, I assisted them up and down. One; who had sat at the table with Sandra, Mary and I, commented to my wife about what a gentleman her husband was.

All things considered, it was a pleasant evening. Well worth the look of contempt the cats gave us when we got home.

When empathy hurts

The dictionary defines empathy as the capacity for participating in the feelings or ideas of another. That's a pretty cold and clinical definition, from my perspective. For all intents and purposes, I can be considered empathic. I sense emotions on a high level. Something to do with subconscious reading of speech, body language and other clues that people give off all of the time.

The problem I have been having is large groups of people. It isn't easy to shut it all off. Building defensive walls takes time, and you don't always get it. On some occasions, I've been hit with the full force of what people were really thinking, and believe me, it wasn't pretty.

My wife and I are going to a church function tomorrow evening, and I am really starting to dread it. Due to recent events, emotions will be running high. I just hope the cutlery all stays on the table. Okay, that is exaggeration, but there are a lot of unhappy campers out there just now, and I really don't want to be feeling that from several directions at once.

Real empathic pain comes from when you haven't put up any barriers intentionally, because you want to be of help. It's the mental equivalent of letting somebody beat on you to relieve their frustrations. While I can take a certain amount of that, some people are just mentally very loud projectors. Some I have been known to pick up without being present except by phone or instant messaging. Every now and then, I get hit with a blow that makes me just want to curl up in a corner somewhere and hold my head for a while.

This may sound dumb to a lot of you, like I pulled something out of a science fiction novel. In fact, a lot of the descriptive points do have that source. Until you have experienced it, there is no common frame of reference. It is a very subjective feeling, and unless you can crawl into my mind, you cannot know exactly what it feels like on this end.

I don't mean to complain so much. Empathy is a good thing. It has allowed me to help people deal with grief and loss. It has kept me from falling for traps and cons. With discipline and practice, deep empathic levels can be a good tool. If more doctors and counsellors had the ability born into them, instead of trained, maybe health care would not be in the mess it is.

All I'm really saying here is to be very careful what you are projecting. You never know who is able to "listen" to what you aren't saying.

Piece of our heritage

The Bluenose II pulled into port here last evening. Sandra and I, having heard about it from the local paper, went down to have a look. I must say, it was quite impressive.

For those of you who may not be aware of it, the Bluenose is a schooner ship. The original, built in March of 1921, was the fastest of her day. She was primarily a fishing vessel, but when the opportunity arose, sailors could not help but to race. She won countless races for seventeen years, remaining undefeated until 1938.

World War II saw sailing vessels phased out of the fishing fleets, and despite protests by her master and many others, the Bluenose was sold in 1942, to the West Indian Trading Company. Adding insult to injury, she was stripped of her sails and set to hauling bananas and similar cargo. She sank in 1946, after hitting a reef off of Haiti.

The Bluenose II was built in Lunenburg, Nova Scotia in 1963 from similar plans to the original. Some of the original shipyard workers contributed to her construction. The hull, sail design and rigging are exact duplicates of the first Bluenose. In 1971, she was sold to the Nova Scotia government for the princely sum of one dollar, and sails as a goodwill ambassador for that province.

The Bluenose is represented on our country's dime, representing a time when Canada was at the forefront of ship building skill and technology.

Most of what you have just read is paraphrased from the pamphlet that is handed out at the gangway whenever the ship (And don't ever let a sailor hear you call her a boat!) makes port. To many Canadians, a lot of the early history is as good as legend. The dates are fuzzy, by my generation remembers hearing the stories, and the Canadian Ministry of Heritage has made a point of documenting the history of our tall ship.

It is always wonderful when a piece of the past comes to call. We take for granted that we can go on the Internet and get all of this information if we want it. It just isn't the same as touching the rail and hearing the timbers creak in the waves. If she is open to visitors today, Sandra and I hope to go aboard. I want to feel the deck beneath my feet, and capture a bit of what those original fishermen must have felt.

Respect history. It's what made us who we are.

Family Update

Happy Father's Day, everyone. It has dawned nice and sunny, so let's get out there and take advantage of it shall we?

As some of you may know, I spent several days this last week visiting with my grandparents. They have both been experiencing medical issues, so my mother wants to go up to see them as often as she can. She needed someone to drive her, with her back not being so good, so I went up and had a look for myself.

Grandma is much better. She is up and about, and very much her usual self. She doesn't seem to have had any lasting side effects from her heart attack. The doctors have told her to watch her diet, and try to keep stress to a minimum. My aunts are being wonderful about going out to the house to help her with every little thing that they might need.

Uncle Bill (as we call my grandfather) is definitely not well. Still, he isn't quite as bad off as I had believed. While he requires constant oxygen and naps a lot more than he is awake, when he is up, he is as feisty as ever, and ready to cause trouble. They say that you can't keep a good man down. In my experience, the same goes for a naughty little old man. He can even get out on his electric scooter and go for rides.

My mother's Aunt Vi passed away about a week before we went up to visit. The internment was held at the cemetery on the Wednesday. I went with my mother to represent my grandmother, who wasn't up to a trip of that length. A fair number of the family made it, considering the plot is way out back of beyond in a sleepy little hamlet called Arden.

I never really knew that side very well. All I can really say for sure is that they have certain quirks, like all of us do.

At any rate, the family is doing as well as can possibly be expected.

Use the day to spend time with your families. We only get to borrow them for a short time.

Medicine vs. Faith

Every now and then you hear stories in the news about children being given medical treatments by court order. Their parents disapprove of the treatment in question on religious grounds. They feel that God will save their child if it is His will. Man is not meant to interfere.

I beg to differ with that argument.

There is an old joke about a woman in a flood, who sits on her roof praying. A bus for evacuation comes, but she declines the ride, saying that God would save her. A good man in a boat comes along and offers to take her off of her roof. Again, she passes on the offer, saying that God will spare her if He is so willing. Finally, the water is up to her neck and rescue workers in a helicopter try to lift her off of the roof. She turns them away, and drowns. When she gets to the pearly gates, she asks God why she wasn't saved. He simply stares at her and say, "I sent you a bus, a boat and a helicopter. All you had to do was take my hand."

It seems to me that we have to meet faith half way. A Divine creator surely would give somebody here the skills that are needed to help us in our hour of need. By refusing treatment, are these parents not turning away from the will of God? The Universe has gifted doctors and scientist with knowledge and ability for the extension and maintenance of life.

I agree that at present, there are boundaries we are not meant to cross. Life was designed and evolves according to a plan of its own. Tampering with that plan has lead to problems of a high order. One day we may have the knowledge and the maturity as a species to guide the design evolution, but not yet. Today, we would only breed horrors.

The point of my argument still stands. Why would a benign Creator give man the skills and knowledge to improve life, if it were not meant to be used. Satan would not give us the ability to improve life, so that argument doesn't wash. No, I think it is safe to say that medical advancement is the hand that God extends to us, so that we might live to carry out His work.

Opinions?

What the...

I am so bloody mad! Our building super has resigned his position with no notice. All of a sudden yesterday, we got a letter saying that he was done effective immediately. No explanation, no real way to find out what's going on.

Now, we have always liked Sam. We always described him as a bit ole teddy bear. He looked after the building well, and always had a smile for the tenants as he was out and about. Having him here was a real selling point when deciding whether or not to take the apartment.

Ever since we got the letter, he hasn't said so much as boo to anyone. He has put up signs saying that we should call the property management head office. Or fax them rather. Like anybody has a fax machine. And without knowing what exactly is going down, what are we supposed to tell them? I did e-mail the one property manager that I happen to know personally. No answers yet.

The whole thing has just gotten my wife terribly upset. She has difficulty with sudden change. Put that together with high heat, humidity and a "change of life", and you have the makings of a major bad mood.

My mother tried to speak with him this afternoon as Dad and I were trying to get the air conditioner in. He was downright rude to her, brushing off enquires saying that his little signs said everything. I can understand being upset, but that does not excuse poor manners. I was raised to know better than that.

Sorry. I don't like to vent here, but sometimes, venting is the only way to get things off your mind.

Thanks for listening.

A writer, me?

A friend of mine has suggested that I write a book. He said that a lot of the things that we have chatted about really should be in print somewhere. He went on to say that he would purchase said book.

A lot of what I would be writing can be sampled here. I would be writing on the topic of relationships, and being a traditional man in nontraditional times. It should perhaps be noted that I have said a lot on this topic to a lot of people. There are people and television characters out there that I so would like to emulate.

I think the ideal man in today's society is one like the character of Horatio Caine, from 'CSI Miami'. He is always the gentleman, even while dealing with people he would as soon see strapped to the electric chair. He is gentle and sensitive, without compromising that sense of unadulterated masculinity. His gifts with women and children in crisis is beyond reproach.

So many men today see nothing wrong with swearing in public and mixed company. A man's language should reflect his intelligence and his respect for others. Sentences peppered with four letter words beginning with F just shows a lack of vocabulary and an even deeper lack of pride in one's self.

So far, the only non-fiction I have ever written is school essays and this blog. Everything else I have out there in the public domain is fiction.

My writing has been pretty well received. Said friend has asked me to work on a special project, which I cannot go into detail about here. It has to be perfect, as far as I am concerned, because it is a highly personal gift I want to give when the time is right.

Please leave a comment and tell me if you think I could make a book work.

Polygamy

There has been a lot of discussion in a forum I subscribe to about the validity of polygamy as a form of relationship. Comments ranged from the 'let them all burn in Hell' to the 'hey, unless it's forced or involves me' sort of thing. People backed there positions based on sketchy cultural data, or biblical verse, which turned out to be just as sketchy.

To be honest, I can see where polygamy might work outside of the context of marriage, either civil or religious. It would have to be a contract among consenting adults, with the option of leaving at any time. Everyone involved would have to be willing to be responsible for his or her actions at all times, and actions of jealousy would be grounds for terminating the entire contract.

Such an arrangement could be convenient for those wanting family, but not ready for the commitment of getting married. Children of the community would be raised by the community, with no regard for who their biological parent is.

All of that being said, I cannot come out in favour of polygamy as a lifestyle. To me, that kind of relationship is all about two people who are committing to each other. My wedding vows state that I will keep myself only for my wife, forsaking all others. That is what love is supposed to be all about.

Free love went out in the sixties. Thank heavens for that.

Don't know what you've got 'til it's gone.

I'm going to visit my grandparents next week. They live some distance from here, so I don't get up to see them very often. I was writing fairly regularly at one point, but haven't for a while.

My grandfather is very ill at the present. His lungs have just about quit on him, the result of many years of smoking. The hospital released him when it became clear that there was nothing they could do for him. He is pretty much prepared of that.

What we weren't really prepared for was my grandmother having a heart attack. She tried to get up from bed one morning and just fell over. Fortunately, she has family that comes in on a regular basis. Her step daughter found her and got her to the hospital.

She's made a full recovery now, and is in pretty good shape for a woman of her age.

It just reminds me that we often take our family for granted. I wish I had a nickle for ever time I have heard somebody say, "I wish I had gotten to know him/her better." Why do we wait until loss to realize somebody's importance to us? Sudden loss is the worst kind, but even a lingering death sometimes seems to catch us off guard.

With Father's Day coming up, maybe now would be a good time to think about those family members you haven't spoken to in a while.