Oh, and did I tell you...

Did I ever mention that my youngest daughter is getting married in two days? With everything that is happening, has happened, it really is no wonder that this blog has sat idle for nearly 3 months.

I'll update next week after the wedding...

...a strategy for attaining nirvana...

Skating on the thin ice of dreams and an unorthodox approach towards nirvana, I have identified three goals. These are three things that I desperately want to do before too much longer.

Its funny how, as my darling wife confronts her mortality using her skirmishes with menopause as the locus and focus, I am being forced to address those hidden desires and dreams which mean something to me... so, these are the three goals:

1. learn to sail and then captain a 40' +/- from Victoria to Mexico/Costa Rica and back again.
2. take an extended gourmet cooking class: either a Cordon Bleu or the two week intensive program offered at NAIT.
3. learn to paint portraits, properly.

These are my goals going into my fifties. Whatcha think?

So far, I have actually enrolled in a drawing class at the U of A to solidify my drawing skills... and those who know me, know that I can draw, after a fashion, so I should be quite successful in this one. From the drawing class, I will take a painting class, and then onto the portraiture classes...

I have been TOLD that I WILL take a swimming class this fall at the local pool. I WILL NOT start sailing classes without it, or so I'm told. This is really too bad... I could have taken a couple of weekend classes out at Wabamum even this late in the summer. (heavy sigh inserted here) There are some things one must do to give comfort to those who love us.

The cooking will have to wait... I keep getting thrown out of the kitchen every time I try to make a bold move. So, the books, the magazines will have to suffice until I can come up with the wherewithal to pay for the classes.

And, it appears, I will be taking a yoga class this fall, as well. Don't ya just love it when someone else embraces part of your dream and then builds on it for you?

...and the weekend goes on...

My back is soaking wet... its 4:30 in the afternoon, and I am absolutely drenched in my own sweat. Why the hell am I sitting outside instead of enjoying my airconditioned condo? 'Cause I won't be able to do this at all in December...

I'll take a quick dip in the hot tub once I've finished the blog... I dropped the temperature on it substantially so that it becomes a lovely place to lounge in the heat...

Saturday morning I attended a meeting of the three Boards of the condominium corps that share this parcel of land. Attitudes have definitely softened since the changeover in Phase One... we're going to actually get somewhere. Lots of promises of cooperation.

And then I ran off to the insurance company... where the claims agent profusely apologized for the team the day before shutting down early. She was very contrite, and then very embarrassed and slightly angry that no one from the phones team had tried to reach me that morning...

Regardless, with police file number and now a claims number in hand, I started for the body shop...

Did you know that most body shops are closed on Saturdays? I didn't... so, frustration turning slowly to furious, I went home. I'll have to deal with it all when I get back from Victoria...

And now, I really do need to cool off... some I'm going to cut this one short and slip into the cool hot tub... You are welcome to join me...

Relaxing weekend, except for the comedy of errors...

As I sit under my little Chinese umbrella in my Muskoka chair (they are NOT indigenous to the Airdoronaks, dammit!), sweltering in the 35 degree C heat, banging away at this laptop, I find myself quite relaxed and generally happy with the way the weekend has been going. Tomorrow morning, really early, I'm jumping on a jet and heading the rest of the way West... Victoria... to meet up with my darling and our eldest daughter. But for now, I'm just enjoying being somewhere that they aren't bombing me, shooting at me, flinging hand grenades at me, or in any overtly militaristic way trying to disrupt my day. Thank what-every-powers-there-are that I was born Canadian! Sure, we've got our problems, and some of the worst weather on the planet, but compared to most places in the world, we are, or at least I am, in a charmed place... near enough to heaven that I really won't complain.

The weekend did start off a bit rough... on Friday afternoon when I returned to the parking lot where I park my jeep when I have to drive to the downtown offices, I discovered that some stupid M/Fr bastard creep tweaker had smashed in the driver side window. What was missing? Just my change for parking... and that lovely hardened leather case that I picked up dockside at the Cutty Sark in Greenwich during the Nelson/Trafalgar celebrations. That is probably the part that pissed me off the most. The other part is that they spilled my coffee all over... and then I began to laugh. They missed the laptop I had secreted in the back... They smashed, reached in, snatched the money, knocked over my coffee mug... and didn't even unlock the door(s) to give it a decent rummaging...

Of course this is being discovered at 4 PM on a Friday afternoon... I finally took a deep breath and phoned the Police... got a really nice desk sergeant type who warned me it would be close to two hours before dispatch would get a car to me... and at least an hour before I could dictate the details to one of the officers handling the phones... he suggested one or two community policing offices that I could run out to... of course there was always the headquarters, but with the parking issues, I was better off going to the community policing stations...

The Sergeant was right. I got to the Kensington Mall station, got in, got out in about 15 minutes. Armed with the file number I headed off to the insurance claims centre, and ran into a significant traffic jam caused by the Grand Prix. I know that they close at 5 PM, so I called... and was rewarded with an early closing message. I was very angry and quite short with the answering machine. How bloody useful is an insurance company that can't or won't make themselves available?

I went home.

After calling G. to whine and complain of my treatment at the hands of tweakers and insurance companies, I went off to the gym for an hour, and then settled in to feed myself... something which I can do quite well when properly motivated. This seemed like an opportune time to use the food prep as a form of relaxation... a zen kinda thing, I suppose. No rakes in little sandboxes, or the careful placement of rocks. No, instead I would chop something vigourously, fling meat onto hot coals, and figure out what other things I could abuse in the meantime. I did manage to unload the dishwasher without chipping or breaking anything. That was a good start.

I went to the freezer to get the frozen 'gourmet' burgers that I had prepped a week ago, and, even as I was pulling the patty-stacker-tube from the freezer I remembered/realized that I had made a tactical error. You aren't supposed to freeze the burger still in the tube... why? 'Cause the meat swells when frozen and makes it damn near impossible to get the burgers out of the tube!

After three five minute stints in the microwave, I finally freed up the burgers. I then started the barbeque, deciding to try to cook the burgers from their frozen state... a bit of an experiment. Warily I checked the propane in the tank on the bbq, decided that there really must be enough to get through the cooking of four burgers, right?

I went back inside to start laying out a plate. Once there, I stoppered one of the kitchen sinks and put the pieces of the patty stacker thingee into it, started the hot water as a trickle, with detergent, so that I wouldn't get too many bubbles.

I took the plate of burgers out to the barbecue, only to discover just how wrong I was. The propane had run out. So I hauled out the other tank, and swapped them... dropped the burgers onto the somewhat preheated grill and then went back into the condo for the lighter...

The first clue that something was wrong was the sound of water falling gently off the counter onto the tiled floor. I had left the water running... hot water... argh!

Once the cleanup was done, and the burgers carefully cooked, dinner was a delightful affair. Thank God for chardonnay...

ITIL Training... boring, yet somehow very satisfying

I love being a trainer... I truly enjoy working with adults, trying to find new ways to pitch old concepts, new ways to pitch new concepts...

I spend most of my training time on MS Office related products... the full Office suite, including MS Project and Visio... and lately, with a Lotus Notes component thrown in. Its good fun... mostly.

But the most challenging training that I do lately is the ITIL Foundations Certification training.... it is pretty dry material, but oddly satisfying to be able to present, and to see the lights go on behind the eyes of the trainees. I do what I can to inject real world examples, get them to work through at least one case study (time permitting) and try, desperately, to have a bit of fun with it and toss in some applicable jokes. But it is still pretty dry, and an awful lot of material to be presenting in a two day plus timeframe. I always feel like I'm running... moving way too fast.

The one thing that is pretty frustrating is the way that the companies I deal with select the participants. Right now I am training ALL of the Managed Services staff for one IT services corporation. Most of them don't want to be there, and don't see the value in the time expended on the training. Hey, they are mostly content to be Help Desk/Service Desk geeks, and have little ambition beyond that.. well that and their out-of-office hobbies and their gamer personas. As such, the material is absolute anethema to them... but their bosses absorb the info amazingly well. The motivation on the part of the managers makes a great deal of sense... but the general geek just can't be bothered, doesn't study and eventually becomes one of the 'statistics', returning for another session, and another attempt to write the exam. (I've actually got one woman who has done the class twice and the exam three times, and still can't pass!)

Screening... its all about screening. Having a corporation determine that ALL employees must line up with some sort of certification isn't always necessary... some of these guys need to rethink, re-evaluate and understand the staff that they are pushing through these courses...

Its been a bit of week...

The week skated by pretty quickly, didn't it? The last post was written on Sunday, with every intention to do the followup on the Monday, which then became the Tuesday, which of course was not nearly as convenient as Wednesday, which brought its own series of challenges, all of which set the groundwork for friends to subvert the Thursday... so now its Friday, and, truly, I have nothing to say.

So, maybe later I will make a concerted effort to get back to the short list...

Are you having a fun one?

The Short List; Item One

I've been meaning to get back to the 'Short List', and begin explaining each item one by one. So here we go...

Now, its interesting to note that on Saturday night (last night) we hosted a small gathering to celebrate the 46th birthday of a very good friend, who also happens to be the mother of our godson, also known as 'The Boy'. The boy is now 14...

So, at this gathering we have 6 adults and The Boy, and way too much alcohol and not enough really important things to discuss... when the oldest of us, who we will call The Salesman to preserve his anonymity and our dignity, calmly pointed out to The Boy that there are three indisputable rules that will get the girls. The Boy was instantly interested. Strangely enough, so was everyone else at dinner. The Salesman is known for a certain level of outrageous behaviour, and we all waited to hear what was going to slide out of his well-oiled mouth.

Rule One: Learn and use your manners.
Rule Two: Don't Get Drunk.
Rule Three: Learn to Dance and then do it!

Strangely enough, if you refer back to my original 'Short List', Learn to Dance is right at the top.

So, The Salesman went on....

Rule One: Learn and use your manners is about the 'charm', the 'polite', the 'showing of respect', and all within the context of the event. Its something that comes with time, but its also the ability to make it look like its second nature... almost an automatic, autonomic response. Knowing that, yes, you hold a car door open for a girl, but that you also mount and start a motorcycle before she does, and then knowing how to help her on... and how to help her with her hair under the helmet...

Rule Two: Don't Get Drunk. She ain't your mother and she shouldn't be expected to help you to get to the bathroom or a convenient bush to vomit, and she especially ain't the one to be cleaning up after you. And really, do you want her driving your car home, and then having to beg a ride home from your folks? Hell, no! Have some dignity, boy! Be smart enough to stay sober, stay straight enough to get her home. Hell, stay sober and straight enough to be able to 'perform' should the opportunity arise! Nothing worse for a girl on the prowl than a date with a slobbering drunk, a limp dick and the smell of puke and beer.

Rule Three: Learn to Dance and then do it! There comes a moment at all those high school dances when the girls are all clustered on one side of the hall, and the boys are all clustered on the other... and then, like a parting of the Red Sea, the clustered girls slowly form themselves into a semblence of a line, sorta like they are getting into position for a game of Red Rover, which, in a fashion, they are. Unfortunately, most guys don't spot the move... and before they actually clue in to what's going on, the girls are on the dance floor, dancing in small clusters with themselves. You're lost... ya might as well go home, or go out and get drunk (remember Rule #2!). But, if you spot the moment when the girls are actually asking to be asked to dance, you're in like Flynn... and what do you do? When they've gone into the Red Rover, Red Rover, Please Come Over position, get the hell across the dance floor and ask one of 'em to dance. And if she says 'no', ask another, and another... and you'll be dancing all night, and maybe even snogging in the parking lot after the dance! Ya gotta ignore those scared little boys you're hanging out with and get over there and take a chance. Hell, its not like you're asking 'em to get married, or go steady... its just part of the mating dance, matey, so go ahead, puff out your chest and ask.

Oh ya, but know what you're doing, okay? Get a girl, like your mum, to teach you how... and learn how to bloody well waltz. All those girls take something like 'social dance' in gym class. Give 'em a place to use it.

Well, The Salesman is pretty accurate. I'll fill it out and fill in the blanks in another post... times up for now.

Would someone just slap them, please?

Harper.
Klein.

Embarrassing. Both of 'em.

Someone, please, please, please just slap them!

Nothing to react to, yet...

I suppose that being prepared has its rewards, but it was a bit disappointing that, there I was, all prepared to have the conversation about my promotion, the group that was to be set up and the compensation package... when I discovered that the boss wasn't... so now we must wait until Friday.

Last night was G's birthday celebrations with the daughters... it went very well... they even threw in a belated Father's Day gift for me. Did you know that they don't make belated Father's Day cards?

I am sitting on the 28th floor of one of the Calgary office towers, waiting for the CIO to arrive to be briefed on our Workforce Mobility Training Program... and it just occured to me that I have no idea whether or not the Help Desk upgraded his machine. Bloody hell, but this could be another embarrassing one....

Luckily, he had been 'dealt with', but, as a true technocrat, he had already adjusted his settings blowing out part of the installation. So we still had to call the Service Desk to get him reconfigured.

How does one react?

So, I did go in to work this morning to contribute to an RFP that is under development. And while there, I found myself with the gawd-awfullest feeling that what I've been trying to accomplish with the new practice initiative is going to be torpedoed. Now, its not the concept or the practice itself, but the new supervisor has promised to take the draft job description to HR and to get the value of the manager placed on the pay grid. Something in the back of my mind says that they're going to come back to me with a let's-get-through-the-next-three-months-and-then-we'll-talk answer.

I think that my answer to that will be a simple, straightforward thanks-but-no-thanks. I earn enough, and I earn enough for the company where I am. I am not about to double the stress and triple the responsibility 'on spec'. I will point out that putting me into that sort of situation puts them at serious risk of creating yet another disgruntled worker... one who will have no doubts about walking away if the opportunity presents itself. If they are not willing to invest in the business opportunity properly, then I don't see how I can rationalize the investment from my side.

My actual comeback would to ensure that they waive all handcuff agreements if someone were to try to woo me away. That should get their attention and drive home the point, eh?

Post Weekend...

Another Canada Day weekend has come and gone... and this one was a very nice, relaxing and yet productive weekend.

The weekend started off with my darling letting me sleep in on Canada Day... actually, it was less about letting me sleep in than just leaving me alone. At some point in the middle of the night, my darling woke up, and then couldn't get back to sleep because of my snoring. (Who me? Snore? Nah, couldn't be!) So she took herself off to the spare room to sleep... then, when the sunlight woke her again, she made herself a cup of tea and sat out on the deck. This is not something that she does a lot of, so it was a 'good thing'. By the end of the weekend she was quite relaxed, able to sit quietly, contemplatively, without twitching.

It wasn't quite a 'rush' to get up, showered, dressed and off to the 11 am Canada Day celebrations, but it wasn't exactly a leisurely pace, either. G. wasn't really interested in going down to the park, but I absolutely insisted; it was her staff organizing the event, and I felt that she should at least put in an supportive appearance. In the end, she was glad that we did go... we spoke with the Mayor, a couple of council members, were at least recognized by the local MLA and MP, and gave the organizing team a pat on the back for all the work they had done. We avoided the outdoor farmer's market, however... it would have been a little bit much!

Feeling just a wee bit guilty about having slept in, we scooted over to J & A's to drop off the tools needed to get on with their deck railings. I needn't have felt so guilty... they were having a very leisurely morning, themselves, having slipped off to the gym for a morning workout. Dropped the tools and left, quickly, not wanting to get involved in their building process, when I had my own tasks to deal with...

My own task went well... I scrubbed the deck, getting it ready for staining. (And I'll cut to Monday, shall I?) When I did manage to be able to start the stain job on Monday am, I screwed up, somehow... not sure how, but the job is terrible! Now let me just clarify a couple of things. The deck is a 14'-0 x 5'-0 cedar plank deck. It was washed down with SuperDeck Deck Wash, and left to dry for 48+ hours. Beginning at about 10:00 am on July 3, I began brushing on SuperDeck Transparent Stain, Redwood. By 4:00 pm I knew we had a problem. The temperature when I started was +27C... by mid-afternoon, the temperature had risen to slightly past 30C. Almost as soon as I finished I realized that there was a problem... it wasn't absorbing. If anything, the sun was wicking it back to the surface of the wood where it has pooled. We now have a orangish red deck with small tacky areas on it. I have tried spotting a couple of the areas with paint thinner, which kinda worked, but I'm not too happy with the idea of scrubbing down the entire deck with paint thinner... although I am seriously considering it...

G. watched me through the entire process (part of her zen meditation exercises for the weekend?) and assures me that I did nothing wrong during the application. In fact, she was getting impatient with me, wondering why I didn't just slap some stain on the thing and get on with it... but I wanted to be careful to put it on sparingly, with great care... and to do what the lid says: Do Not Over Apply. Well, it appears that I did over apply for the conditions. Damn! Damn! Damn!

Okay, so back to Saturday and Canada Day. After I scrubbed the deck, we lounged in the sun and readied ourselves for dinner. Dinner was a 'special occasion' at J and N's... to celebrate G's birthday, 'cause they will be out of town on the day. They even gave G a new Lafluma (spell that how?) deck chair. Gee, at least this year they phoned me in advance to find out if I had one hidden away for G... Luckily I hadn't picked it up yet, so, what the hell, G will get more significant jewellry this year.

Sunday we ran out to Hole's Greenhouses and found a very nice hydrangea for the front of the condo... which I got to do the planting on...and then entertained my older brother, my uncle and his wife over dinner, for which I got to do the cooking/barbecuing. It was a lovely, relaxed evening.

S's mother (S is wife of the uncle P) had a radical mastectomy on this past Thursday as a preemptive strike against breast cancer. She lost her older sister to the disease at this time last year, largely, so she says, because they dicked around with lumpectomy after lumpectomy until the disease killed her. So she chose the more drastic approach in an attempt to save her life, or at least make the rest of it more about her and less about the disease.

Now all this talk about breast cancer gave me the impetus to keep pushing to have G. phone our friend C. in England... a recent breast cancer survivor... and insist that she visit us later this July. The mental health is what is at issue... she'll give us an answer shortly.

Being the good consumers we are, we decided to go and spend money on Monday, this time at one of our favourite gadget shops: Lee Valley Tools. We picked up a couple of self watering bulbs to test on the roses in the containers, and an IV drip system for the lavender and the hydrangeas.

G's birthday is tomorrow. So far she will be getting a small watering can for in-condo use, a large watering can for outdoor use, and a lovely diamond and tanzinite bracelet, from me. J., our eldest, is flying in from Victoria as a surprise, and will just sorta turn up at G's office for lunch. It should be another good day...

And it just keeps getting weirder all the time

The furor over my misguided email has died down quite a bit, but the problem defined by it still exists, and slightly more exacerbated because of my email. I give a heavy sigh, shrug my shoulders a bit, and then move on. One of the nicer things about the whole incident is the demonstration of support by the rest of Board for me, and my leadership. It doesn't help that it has (potentially) cost us a good volunteer Treasurer.

Work today started off encouragingly enough, and then quickly started swirling around the bowl...

My first session was attended by one (1, un, uno) person. Although we had a good time, and he was suitably impressed by the efforts of the programming team, it is always disheartening when there is only one. As one of my co-workers pointed out, however, I am still getting paid, the company is still billing me out at the usual rate, and it is the client's loss, not ours. Still, self-esteem and all that...

I then tried to confirm my haircut this afternoon with my favourite stylist to discover that they somehow misplaced my appointment, and no, they just can't fit me in today; how 'bout tomorrow at the same time?

I was then made aware of an email (that I am refusing to open and read, for the moment) from a client who is apologizing for leaving us with the wrong impression. After a strategy session on Tuesday, we talked through what the potential role was for me/our company, and we came up blank... everything was basically handled, and being corralled by an 'a-type' lady, and quite competently. Now they are saying that the impression was a mistake, and that they require quite a bit of 'backfill' on an organizational-get-the-manuals-and-the-paperwork-done level. And I had taken the opportunity, based on the impression we were given, to fill my calendar with other outstanding client work.

And now I am sitting in the training room waiting for my next session attendees. They are, at this moment, 14 minutes late... all of 'em. Even the remote access/netmeeting registrants are not logging in. Now, to be entirely fair, there are only two of them scheduled for the afternoon, but nevertheless, that's still 100% no shows! Its at times like these that I despair of the client's ability to motivate their staff, or to at least 'market' the training I provide in a way that makes it as appealing and exciting as I work so hard to make it.

And another heavy sigh...

What a mess!

Well, have I ever made a mess!

Last evening, when I couldn't get my mind to close down enough to let me sleep, I fired up my laptop and built a rather nasty email... and while it calmed my mind enough for me to sleep, it also took enough of my focus that I a) didn't notice that the 'automatically connect' function on the wireless card automatically connected, and b) that I did not save it as a draft as intended, but rather fired it off into the void... where it has been richoceting all bloody day!

The sentiments in the email were correct, but the way I crafted it was inappropriate. It has resulted in the wrong person resigning from the Board... and its got me completely on the defensive.

Bloody hell!

Midsummer's plus six...

Now, before any of you bright bunnies out there examine this photo too closely and decide to take issue with it, let me just say that it was NOT taken at the soltice... in fact it was taken in September of 2005... but I was looking for an excuse to get a picture into the blog, and hey... midsummer's eve presented itself.

I must admit that I am not being as conscientious about posts to this blog as I had originally intended. Its sorta like starting an exercise program or a diet... you always have really good intentions, but, well, life gets in the way... you're too busy this week, or the day was really rough and you'd rather just flop and comfort yourself with something unhealthy but satisfying...

But we have decided to do a number of 'healthy' and satisfying things lately... such as purchasing a hot tub (what a brilliant investment!), restructuring our lingering debt (why did we wait so long?), consciously reducing the amount of time we watch tv (funny, but I don't really miss it much), and cutting loose a really annoying person who called herself a 'friend' (by far the most satisfying of the bunch).

Next on the agenda are any one of a number of things, not the least of which is to try to dedicate time to this blog...

...although I haven't really been paying much attention to the wider world of late. Focussing inward is important, as well as being aware of what damage the world is doing to itself. So, as part of the focusing inward, I think that I'm going to try to examine my "Short List" (see the previous post) one item at a time...

Enjoy the day...

The short list...

As I am drawn through the day-to-day meanderings that make up my world, I am encountering more and more youngish people on the verge of being thrown into the rough-and-tumble adult world... and I can't help but think that, for the most part, they just aren't properly prepared for it. Hell, I know I wasn't.. and I sure wish that someone had made a few suggestions at key moments when I might have listened.

These days I'm fighting with a number of different demons, not the least of which is self awareness. I always thought that I was 'aware', but the more time I spend on the business of living, I am discovering that I spent way too much of my time 'being cool' instead of being aware. And to be aware means to live, fully. Now I'm not suggesting that finding your cool, and being the you in the cool is a problem or a waste of time or energy, but what I am saying is that your cool can have a drive-by sort of relationship with the mainstream, not-quite-so-cool world that awaits you. And from those occasional oblique visitations with the mainstream world, you may find that your level of satisfaction increases, and, strangely enough, sustained happiness becomes a lot easier.

Its about doing yourself and those around you the favour... get into living it, and stop standing outside watching it live you...

I doubt that anyone of the target group is listening now, but here is a short list of some of the things I wish I had done in preparation;

• learn to dance
• learn to meditate
• learn to negotiate and mediate
• learn to manage time
• learn to manage friends
• learn to manage money
• understand when to wear the uniform of the rowdy thrill seeking 'kid', and when and how to wear the uniform of responsibility
• how and when to shave
• learned earlier when it was time to think about personal hygiene; when to begin using deodorant, when to begin showering daily, when/how often to wash my hair, face and hands
• how not to chew fingernails
• learning when to spend on quality, and when to spend on throwaways
• how to buy good shoes
• bought a good bed
• learn to cook
• learn to tell a good bottle of wine from overpriced plonk
• develop a lifelong exercise regime
• learn yoga/tai chi
• learn to type
• learn how to set a table properly
• learn how to use all of the cutlery and when
• get a motorcycle license
• learn to swim
• learn the difference between intimacy and sex

So that's the short list, without explanations. There is, of course, a longer list, and all of the stories and explanations that substantiate them. Those will come later as I grow bolder, and irrevocably older...

...not as traumatic as you'd think...

So, the next morning when I took Elijah out for his usual morning walk, he definitely did not want to be walking, running or any of the other forms of gamboling that he normally did... In fact, after he'd done his business, he laid down until I gave him the command for 'home'. He wasn't interested at all in going anywhere but home.

We had made the appointment with the vet the previous evening...to be the last appointment of her day so that we wouldn't have to deal with other owners, other animals. If, after she had a look at Elijah, she disagreed with our assessment, she promised to tell us and advise us accordingly. But if it was time, she would give us the information we needed to make the final.

As I was prepping (or should that be 'primping') to leave the house, G. sat with Elijah and had a little chat with him. She assured me that he was ready to let go... that it was all getting to be a bit too much. Now I normally don't put a lot of stock in some of the things that G. says that she 'feels', but this time I realized that she might be more in tune with the dog than one would think.

And the tears began...

Once loaded into the jeep, Elijah became visibly relaxed. The rocking motion of the jeep as comfort? Could be...

Once at the vet's, Elijah seemed almost relieved. We got to the waiting room, realized that there were still way too many animals there, and quickly ushered Elijah out to play in the snow. Elijah was born in winter and has always had an afinity for the snow and the cold. He burrowed in it the way other dogs try to burrow in dirt and sand. But he tired very quickly, and simply lay in the snow, periodically thrashing as though trying to create one last snow angel.

I slipped back into the waiting room to let the staff know that we were outside, while G. and K. stayed with Elijah. G. and K. waiting out in the cold is an unusual occurence, so you can pretty much understand how concerned they were.

One of the staff recognized me, and asked me to bring Elijah in through a staff only door. Walking 'big dog' through the waiting room was a heartbreaker. Normally Elijah and I would have had a tussel while I tried to convince him to leave the other beasts behind; this day he lead me through the door that the staff member held open for us. It was even tougher when he lead me directly to the euthanasia room. Damn... he actually knew where to go and what he was essentially giving us permission to do.

G. and K. had brought his favourite blanket and a pillow that he sometimes favoured (meaning that he would steal it off the couch and hump it!). Making up a bed for him on the stainless steel tabletop seemed important. Elijah paced, waiting, impatiently...

The vet reassessed big dog, and concluded that it definitely was time... that he had been stoically concealing his pain (and frustration) from us until it had reached this point... the point that he just didn't have the energy to hide it anymore.

It was time...

...the Monday morning after...

Its been a tough weekend...

Late Friday afternoon, G. left work early to go home to prepare for an event planned in her honour for that evening... and discovered that our very sick dog (lymphosarcoma) had gotten very much worse. (I had walked him that morning and noticed that he was taking way too much time to trot through the same distances that we had done together for years. He was also having obvious trouble 'lifting his leg'. I didn't mention this to G., not wanting to distress her and add an additional concern to what was scheduled to be a horrendous day for her.) When she phoned me in near hysterics, I immediately called the vet and asked that she call G. at home to discuss where we were.

The 'time' had come, and I knew it. I'd been expecting it since we got the diagnosis four weeks ago. But still, for piece of mind, G. needed to verify it. The vet, sweet lady that she is, laid the groundwork for the difficult conversation that I would have to have with G. when I managed to navigate the public transit system to get home.

Its amazing how slow the buses are on a Friday afternoon when you absolutely must get somewhere... but that also gives one time to reflect, to think, to start making plans and planning the things that need to be said.

Its also pretty amazing how the 'self preservation' reflex kicks in when you're dealing with tough subjects like this one. Its actually taken me eight days to get back to finishing this post... eight days, not all of which were filled with other more important things. There were the times when I thought about what I would write here, and then turned away from the keyboard, quite deliberately...

So, the Friday evening started with a long, weepy discussion about the 'right thing to do'... and whether or not that time had come.

Our youngest daughter was called... and she came. And we all went off to a party to celebrate G.'s latest accomplishments. But it was all pretty flat. Its amazing what understated joy there is in the pets we love... and the knowing that losing one kinda sucks the joy right out of it all.

Both G. and K. decided that they would build beds on the floor and sleep with Elijah. But Elijah didn't sleep. He was so wracked with pain that he wimpered and whined most of the night. And we knew that the decision we had made was the right one.

Why is it so hard to make the same decision for people who are in unbelievable, unrelievable pain?

There will be more on this... its just too late to continue. And I'm sitting in a strange hotel room, in barely familiar city, missing my wife... and my dog.

... got distracted from the purpose.

Somewhere in the last few months I lost track of what I intended... and got distracted from the purpose of this blog. In fact, I completely forgot that I had started this.

Okay, so I'm back... sorta. Well, kinda... At least I'm thinking about the blog and what should be in it.

I'm composing this while trying to eat my lunch at my desk, and while formulating a strategy for coping with the volume of work that awaits my attention... hoping for a bit of privacy, and yet not wanting to ignore or insult my coworkers who flit by my desk at times like this. Bloody moths! Open something personal and they are right there... drawn like moths to a flame. But have a particularly aggravating conundrum and they are no where to be found...