Piercings!

It's 4:45 p.m. as I sit at my desk. Phone rings. I pick up. Its my wife. Seth, our son, has used a single hole punch on his 6 month old sister's lip. Yes, LIP! Upper lip! Wife says, "she's bleeding a lot and it won't stop."

And the surgeon? Well, he promptly ran behind the curtains in the living room, all the while yelling, "I'm sorry mommy...I'm sorry."

The fun never stops in our household.

Oh, yeah. Tarah is fine and by the time I got home the bleeding had stopped. Whew.

Zoo Run

Marsh (a.k.a. my wife) at the Metro Zoo's 5 Kilometre run/walk. Look 'er go!!

Share a Secret

Once in a blue moon, while surfing you find a web site that blows you away -- and it doesn't involve naked people!!

Postsecret is one such site. The picture you see is one of many postcards sent in to this site's author. They are confessions of secrets people have never revealed to anyone, but have done so on this site -- anonymously.



Click on the title of this post to go to the postsecret web site.

Hard Science Fiction: Recommendations

It's been a long time since I have read any science fiction not connected with Frank Herbert's Dune series. In fact, aside from the Dune universe I had assumed that hard sci-fi had died a quiet death. For a short time, it seemed that book stores only carried science fantasy...with dragons and muscle bound heroes fighting on some wacky world.

But I was wrong. Yes, wrong! Hard to believe but true.

A case in point is a novel I only just (15 minutes ago) finished reading: Iron Sunrise by Charles Stross. Iron Sunrise was shortlisted for the best novel Hugo award in 2005. Need I say more? Then, as I am apt to do, I go to Stross' web site and find that Iron Sunrise is a sequel to Singularity Sky. The point: This book was great.

Visit Stross at http://www.antipope.org/charlie/index.html

Strangely I have also found yet another author of science fiction: Robert J. Sawyer -- A Canadian and a Nebula award winner. Stross sets his novel, Calculating God, in Toronto specifically at the ROM. A beautiful read, a little heavy on the message but nevertheless hard to put down.

Both these guys are relentless and I plan on hunting down more of their many novels tomorrow.

So what are you waiting for...run to the nearest library and read, dammit!

Pictures from the Party

Tarah at the Church


Lesley and Grandma Buchoon



Aunt Jacqui


Jannelle


Friends




Eric and Aunty Louise

The Christening

October 2, 2005: Tarah will get christened and following church there will be a party at the 486, ok, just the "86."
So be there or be square, Yo!

In other news, I am officially on the hunt for work as a case manager. So if you see something suitable please, please, please call.

Gotta go! Pictures from the party to follow.

Counter

I am adding a site meter to my blog. Keep your knarled fingers crossed and pray that this works.

Memoir: Mrs. Macrae (final)

One of my fondest memories of you is that of visiting an ice rink near the school. A few days before our class was to go ice skating, my father and I went to Canadian Tire and bought a pair of CCM skates. The next day I watched my friends lace-up their skates and imitated them the best I could. I got on the ice with your help. Somehow you coaxed me away from the sideboards and then I was skating.
You pulled me forward with both hands, as you skated backwards. I felt so special on the ice with you - my teacher. I did my best version of skating with your encouragement. This is one of my fondest memories of you.
If I had to pick out a time that stands out more than the skating lesson it would have to be your thank-you note to me. It was the end of the school year. I had a cold and stayed home on the last day. Unable to attend class, I sent you a beaded necklace through a fellow classmate. A necklace which was one of a number of gift items my parents brought with them to Canada. My intent at the time was a end-of-the-year thank you. Not an unusual thing for a student to do, especially in the primary grades.
In retrospect, I must admit that I was smitten, had a crush on you. I can only imagine that this is not so uncommon an occurrence. And the cold? Well, I did have a cold but I suspect that the necklace meant so much to me that I was simply too shy and scared to actually hand it to you in person.
True to form though, you accepted my gift, delivered by proxy and went one better: You sent me a thank-you note. A totally unexpected turn of events. It was a simple note; a thank-you for the necklace from 'a far away place.' But it meant a lot to me because the note was written by my first teacher, my first real contact with a Canadian and the object of my first crush.
Once again, through that note, you had made me feel special, and by-the-by way, taught me the appropriateness and importance of thank-you notes. Nearly 30 years after receiving that note, I still have it amongst my keepsakes and memorabilia.
This is all to say: Thank-you.
Thank you for being there for me, for being an educatorand an exemplar. Thank-you for taking time out for me, and no doubt, many other students. And know that even now you are thought of and remembered with the greatest respect and fondness.

The Sky is Falling!

"On the basis of research conducted since the 1989 Loma Prieta earthquake, the U.S. Geological Survey (USGS) has published a report concluding that there is a 62% probability of at least one magnitude 6.7 or greater quake, capable of causing widespread damage, striking the San Francisco Bay region before 2032. Thus, a major quake is about twice as likely to happen as not to happen in the next 30 years."

(The above material is lifted from the Association of Bay Area Governments' website. To visit the site, click on the title of this post.)

'If New Orleans is Sinking, Baby, I Don't Wanna Swim'

Don't tell me 40,000 people are coming here. They're not here. It's too doggone late. Now get off your asses and do something, and let's fix the biggest goddamn crisis in the history of this country.


-- New Orleans Mayor Ray Nagin

Memoir: Mrs. Macrae (3)

I think of you as more than just a teacher. You were my beginning at Gateway. My beginning in Canada. I think of you as the gatekeeper to my life in Canada and an ambassador of this nation to innumerable immigrant children.

I recall meeting you with my father at "meet the teacher night." I felt at ease in your presence. You explained my various achievements and shortfalls as a student. At the end of the meeting, I remember my father saying, "She's a very nice teacher." You were. And I imagine, still are.

Teachers teach math, reading, writing, and science. You did all this and on top of that you did this too: You taught me to sing in a choir; to begin to read music; hold a recorder; clean the mouth piece in a solution that tasted like bubble gum; attend choral festivals and introduced me to Ontario Place. You also introduced me to two abiding interests which are a part of my life even today: A love for the outdoors and that quintessentially Canadian of all pass times - ice skating.

As a class, we often went on trips to a place called Forest Valley. An outdoor centre with a building for lunch times, a building for nature education, a river with a bridge over it and, best of all, a trampoline on site. At Forest Valley I learned, among other things, how to identify trees and leaves and how to use a map and compass. I have branched out since then to a love of canoeing in Algonquin Park, the ability to navigate in many a strange city with a map and, yes, a nostalgic love for trampolines.

Don't Look Now, But...

Across my driveway and in my neighbours front yard are a bunch of bees building a hive/nest. I suppose this is my year to do battle with tiny critters. Obviously having access to the "interweb" (thanks Corner Gas) I have researched the problem. You can link to this bee help site by clicking on the title of this blog.

Anyways, my neighbour doesn't want to kill the bees because he hates to kill any living thing. I would gas them in a heartbeat, except, I'm a runner not a fighter. Just thinking about bees gives me a rash. Nevertheless, I plan on treking to the nearest -- yup, HomeDepot -- and finding a safe (for me anyways) way to deal with the bees.

By the way, the website recommends calling a bee keeper...a nutty sub-caste of the human race if ever there was one.

Stay tuned!

Hug Him (he'll be happier, you'll be happier)

'It's gotten to a point where he's asking everyone for hugs...and it's problematic.'

-- Day program manager describing a participant's "behaviour."

Memoir: Mrs. Macrae (2)

I have never forgotten you since that first day. You were gentle, welcoming, beautiful and understanding. You took the time to teach me by your desk. It was not so much the material as the system and culture within the classroom that you coached me on. A lot remained to be discovered but in a matter of days, I had found my home within Gateway Public School. In your classroom. Because of you.
Now, at the age of 40, I still look back on those days with nostalgia and fondness. Now, being married to a teacher, I hear many stories from her classroom. I always recall to my wife, herself a graduate of Gateway Public School, that the smallest kindness can have a deep and lasting effect. A word, a look, or a gesture: The kind of thing you imparted to your students...to me...daily.

Memoir: Mrs. Macrae (1)

In October of 1974 I sat down for exactly one day in a grade 5 class at Gateway Public School in Toronto. I had arrived the
previous month, September 14th to be exact, from my birthplace - Tanzania.
I was stunned and confused. I sat in a class with no friends, a teacher who was too busy to be the welcoming presence I needed and the dreaded acronym BODMAS on the chalkboard. That night I returned home and explained to my father that I had no idea what was being taught in that class. And although that was half the problem, the other half was the result of a class full of students that left little time for individual attention.
The next day my father and I went to the main office. I stood around and then sat by my dad quietly while he explained the situation to the administrative staff. That same day - I wish I could recall the date - I landed, gently, in your classroom.