I began this blog when I quit my last job. I had worked for a company that owned several long-term care homes throughout the province. My office was in one of the homes nearby. It's the largest in the chain. It was really a lot like going to work at somebody else's home....well, mansion really with 160 people living in it. TV's would be going, stereos with music playing, people working on puzzles, having visits, talking on the phone. Most of the time it was a really great place to work.
I know the building inside and out. I was part of the team that oversaw the building project and I visited the site frequently. It is five-storey, square building with one elevator and one stairwell each at the north and south ends of the building. The elevator is really slow; unbearably so when the programming team is shuttling residents from floor-to-floor to attend an party, game or event. Those of us that worked there often took the stairs in favour of waiting for the elevator. We would race up and down the stairs so much that the paint is beginning to wear on the stairs.
I just learned that one of the ladies I worked with fell down those stairs and hit her head. She died yesterday at 2 pm. She was a runner and a Nordic walker. I often thought that I would consider myself fortunate to have her body when I hit her age. She was fit, she looked great and she was a career nurse. She took care of herself. I can hardly believe that she is gone.
A freak accident for sure, made more strange by circumstances. After all, she made a career caring for chronic and terminally ill patients. She would be considered a "kid" by many of them. I'm sure the irony won't be lost on many of the seniors that live in that building.
It reminds me how precious life is.
Too precious to complain about snow in winter.
Thursday, November 29
Wednesday, November 28
Snow and more snow
It has snowed every day since last Thursday. Thursday morning we woke up to a huge dumping of snow. Most of the school buses in the nearby rural municipalities were cancelled. It was my daughter's birthday and she was hoping for a snow day, but her bus came and she went to school to celebrate with her friends. It snowed all day. It was fun and pretty and helped me get into the spirit of the approaching holidays.
It continued to snow through Friday. Very few people dropped into the coffee shop on Friday. Too cold and too much snow to make the short trip from their car to our door, I guess. Saturday was the Santa Clause parade in a nearby town. I took my daughter and two of her friends to the parade and it started to snow as the parade passed us by. It was after dark and the total experience was lovely. Sunday it snowed some more, then Monday too, and Tuesday night. The plows can't keep up.
This morning the roads were freakin' treacherous. The snow had been packed down by traffic to form a very slick, icy white shell on the road. I could feel my car moving left and right on its own which always makes me uncomfortable. I hate that feeling! I hate feeling as though, at any second, the car can move a foot or two to the side on its own. The sun was kind enough to help melt away some of that ice, but the roads are still pretty slippery. You would never know that by watching most of the drivers on the road...unless of course you're watching me crawl by.
It continued to snow through Friday. Very few people dropped into the coffee shop on Friday. Too cold and too much snow to make the short trip from their car to our door, I guess. Saturday was the Santa Clause parade in a nearby town. I took my daughter and two of her friends to the parade and it started to snow as the parade passed us by. It was after dark and the total experience was lovely. Sunday it snowed some more, then Monday too, and Tuesday night. The plows can't keep up.
This morning the roads were freakin' treacherous. The snow had been packed down by traffic to form a very slick, icy white shell on the road. I could feel my car moving left and right on its own which always makes me uncomfortable. I hate that feeling! I hate feeling as though, at any second, the car can move a foot or two to the side on its own. The sun was kind enough to help melt away some of that ice, but the roads are still pretty slippery. You would never know that by watching most of the drivers on the road...unless of course you're watching me crawl by.
Monday, November 26
The Number 23
I watched the movie, "The Number 23" yesterday with the kids. Don't worry, we fast -forwarded through the "adult relationship" parts (the kids always say, "Yuck, old people kissing.")
My daughter LOVES horror movies. Well, at least she says she does. I don't let them watch horror movies, so it's not clear to me how she has arrived at this determination. She's a sweet, sweet kid whose capacity for empathy never ceases to amaze me. It's odd to me that she finds scary movies to be so appealing. Maybe it's an outlet for her. Maybe for the hour that she's being scared, she's abandoning an ordered and demanding life. It can be tough being nice.
My son says he likes horror movies, but I've also heard him up at night after watching a scary movie. He's not allowed to watch horror movies at all. They have only recently been allowed to watch the news. I think there's plenty of horror in the everyday newscast, I don't believe we need the fantasy of Freddie or Jason when we have the reality of suicide bombers. I usually preview movies that I'm not too sure about before I decide whether the kids can watch them.
Anyway, back to the movie. This fellow becomes obsessed with a book that explores the meaning of the number 23. The movie explores the historical importance of the number 23 and how it is linked to many infamous moments in history. Caesar's death, the name of serial killers, the birth dates of assassins. For example, in the movie the main character learns that the Mayans predicted that the world would end in 2012 -- 20 + 1 +2 = 23. The main character realizes that his birthday, his name and his address all add up to 23. Pardon me, some of his details added up to 32 which is, you've got it, 23 backwards. This is where they lost me 32 is not 23 backwards, it's a different number. "Pink is red and white, red and white add up to 92, there are four letters in pink, 92 divided by 4 is - uh huh - 23. As my brother says, 10 + 2 + 5 + zebra equals 23!
Jim Carrey plays the lead character and, while I'm not a huge fan of his comedy stylings, I was curious to see how he would make out in this kind of movie. (Besides, he's Canadian and we have to support our artists. By the way, NO, I did not download this movie. It makes me sad to hear that we are a country of pirates. I have no explanation. Only a humble apology on behalf of my countrymen.)
When it was over, I looked at the kids and they looked at me. We figured that the best way to find out, "what the heck was that about?" was to proceed to the Special Features and find out what the director/writer/producer was thinking. No such luck. Lots of credits (not necessary, in my opinion) but no explanation. We could have watched the movie again while the director prattled on about character development and the importance of the wall colour in the dining room but, quite frankly, I wasn't prepared to give this film 97 more minutes of my life. It was, in my opinion, 74 minutes longer than it had to be.
Message to Jim Carrey. Good job! I was quite convinced that you are a nutjob...though I was halfway there before I turned on the movie. I'd like to see you try this type of role again but in a movie that's not bad.
That's it. There is no secret message in this post. You will NOT find a clue by reading every 23rd word, and if this post makes it to the blog in a number of lines that is a multiple of 23, it is not by my design. For those of you still fascinated by the theories surrounding the number 23, it might interest you to know that my birthday falls on October 13. Boo!
My daughter LOVES horror movies. Well, at least she says she does. I don't let them watch horror movies, so it's not clear to me how she has arrived at this determination. She's a sweet, sweet kid whose capacity for empathy never ceases to amaze me. It's odd to me that she finds scary movies to be so appealing. Maybe it's an outlet for her. Maybe for the hour that she's being scared, she's abandoning an ordered and demanding life. It can be tough being nice.
My son says he likes horror movies, but I've also heard him up at night after watching a scary movie. He's not allowed to watch horror movies at all. They have only recently been allowed to watch the news. I think there's plenty of horror in the everyday newscast, I don't believe we need the fantasy of Freddie or Jason when we have the reality of suicide bombers. I usually preview movies that I'm not too sure about before I decide whether the kids can watch them.
Anyway, back to the movie. This fellow becomes obsessed with a book that explores the meaning of the number 23. The movie explores the historical importance of the number 23 and how it is linked to many infamous moments in history. Caesar's death, the name of serial killers, the birth dates of assassins. For example, in the movie the main character learns that the Mayans predicted that the world would end in 2012 -- 20 + 1 +2 = 23. The main character realizes that his birthday, his name and his address all add up to 23. Pardon me, some of his details added up to 32 which is, you've got it, 23 backwards. This is where they lost me 32 is not 23 backwards, it's a different number. "Pink is red and white, red and white add up to 92, there are four letters in pink, 92 divided by 4 is - uh huh - 23. As my brother says, 10 + 2 + 5 + zebra equals 23!
Jim Carrey plays the lead character and, while I'm not a huge fan of his comedy stylings, I was curious to see how he would make out in this kind of movie. (Besides, he's Canadian and we have to support our artists. By the way, NO, I did not download this movie. It makes me sad to hear that we are a country of pirates. I have no explanation. Only a humble apology on behalf of my countrymen.)
When it was over, I looked at the kids and they looked at me. We figured that the best way to find out, "what the heck was that about?" was to proceed to the Special Features and find out what the director/writer/producer was thinking. No such luck. Lots of credits (not necessary, in my opinion) but no explanation. We could have watched the movie again while the director prattled on about character development and the importance of the wall colour in the dining room but, quite frankly, I wasn't prepared to give this film 97 more minutes of my life. It was, in my opinion, 74 minutes longer than it had to be.
Message to Jim Carrey. Good job! I was quite convinced that you are a nutjob...though I was halfway there before I turned on the movie. I'd like to see you try this type of role again but in a movie that's not bad.
That's it. There is no secret message in this post. You will NOT find a clue by reading every 23rd word, and if this post makes it to the blog in a number of lines that is a multiple of 23, it is not by my design. For those of you still fascinated by the theories surrounding the number 23, it might interest you to know that my birthday falls on October 13. Boo!
Wednesday, November 14
I Brake for Shiny Things
I need new glasses. Well, I've needed new glasses for about three years now. I'm not sure whether my vision has changed or not, but I do know that my glasses are a spectacle (pardon the pun...or not)! The lenses are scratched, I lost a nose-piece and they have been out of style for about four years. The clip-on sunglass lenses are scratched too. I step on them about every two months. To their credit, they have proved to be quite durable.
Why am I bringing this up? Well, with the time change, (by the way, thanks USA for talking Canada into postponing the daylight savings for two extra weeks), I am finding that I am driving more often at dusk or in the dark. Not cool for someone with anything less than 20/20 vision.
Last night when I was driving home at dusk, I sensed rather than saw a shadow cross the road ahead of me. It is SUPER HARD to see at dusk. The headlights can't pierce the grey left behind when the sun slips below the horizon. Why is that do you suppose? When driving a car, why does it seem harder to see at dusk than at dark? Anyhow I am convinced it was a deer, or a dog, or adolescent Siamese twins.... OK so maybe I don't know what it was, but I know it crossed the road and climbed down into the ditch.
It makes me skittish when I see movement in the dark. I grab the steering wheel a little harder and I catch myself holding my breath. I hate not knowing at the best of times. I REALLY hate not knowing at 100kmph.
Tonight I left late. It rained for most of the afternoon so it was grey for most of the day. Dusk lasted about 3 minutes because it got dark fast. Anyhow I had to go to the...what...hmm..slaughterhouse...no...the place where you have your dead meat turned into food meat. Meat processing place. Whatever. Anyhow, I had to go pick up some venison meat for my Dad and it's almost all backroads the entire way. I started out confident as I normally do, and then - wham! - I run over some soft, squishy pink used-to-be-alive thing on the road and it makes a thump-thump as it balls up under my front tires then my rear tires. Yuck! No hard-feelings though. It was so disfigured I couldn't tell if it was a pretty little rabbit or somebody's Hot Turkey Sub. I decide it's someone's take-out because my day has been too good to surrender to thoughts of mangled bunnies.
All of the traffic that I was travelling with seemed to turn off into side-roads and driveways and I found myself alone on dark roads. What was that? I saw a glimmer in the ditch. I braked. It was a tiny reflector on the back of a road sign. I sped up. What was that? I saw a glimmer but it moved this time. Ah, long grass blowing in the wind in front of somebody's reflective lane marker. Super. I grit my teeth. What's that dark thing in the road? I slow down and hobble over a freshly patched pothole at a whopping 50 kmph (that's like 24mph for all my American friends). Gonna be a long drive home I decided.
I wonder if new glasses are going to help me. Maybe I should forget my glasses and find a super-luminescent headlamp for the car. How would bumper-mounted foglights and a roof-rack-light look on my Ford Focus? Maybe I should just drive a lighthouse.
Why am I bringing this up? Well, with the time change, (by the way, thanks USA for talking Canada into postponing the daylight savings for two extra weeks), I am finding that I am driving more often at dusk or in the dark. Not cool for someone with anything less than 20/20 vision.
Last night when I was driving home at dusk, I sensed rather than saw a shadow cross the road ahead of me. It is SUPER HARD to see at dusk. The headlights can't pierce the grey left behind when the sun slips below the horizon. Why is that do you suppose? When driving a car, why does it seem harder to see at dusk than at dark? Anyhow I am convinced it was a deer, or a dog, or adolescent Siamese twins.... OK so maybe I don't know what it was, but I know it crossed the road and climbed down into the ditch.
It makes me skittish when I see movement in the dark. I grab the steering wheel a little harder and I catch myself holding my breath. I hate not knowing at the best of times. I REALLY hate not knowing at 100kmph.
Tonight I left late. It rained for most of the afternoon so it was grey for most of the day. Dusk lasted about 3 minutes because it got dark fast. Anyhow I had to go to the...what...hmm..slaughterhouse...no...the place where you have your dead meat turned into food meat. Meat processing place. Whatever. Anyhow, I had to go pick up some venison meat for my Dad and it's almost all backroads the entire way. I started out confident as I normally do, and then - wham! - I run over some soft, squishy pink used-to-be-alive thing on the road and it makes a thump-thump as it balls up under my front tires then my rear tires. Yuck! No hard-feelings though. It was so disfigured I couldn't tell if it was a pretty little rabbit or somebody's Hot Turkey Sub. I decide it's someone's take-out because my day has been too good to surrender to thoughts of mangled bunnies.
All of the traffic that I was travelling with seemed to turn off into side-roads and driveways and I found myself alone on dark roads. What was that? I saw a glimmer in the ditch. I braked. It was a tiny reflector on the back of a road sign. I sped up. What was that? I saw a glimmer but it moved this time. Ah, long grass blowing in the wind in front of somebody's reflective lane marker. Super. I grit my teeth. What's that dark thing in the road? I slow down and hobble over a freshly patched pothole at a whopping 50 kmph (that's like 24mph for all my American friends). Gonna be a long drive home I decided.
I wonder if new glasses are going to help me. Maybe I should forget my glasses and find a super-luminescent headlamp for the car. How would bumper-mounted foglights and a roof-rack-light look on my Ford Focus? Maybe I should just drive a lighthouse.
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