W is for...

Winter. It finally decided to arrive in our part of the world. A little late and with some mixed signals about its intentions, but its definitely here. Despite growing up in north-eastern Ontario I loathe winter. Especially in the city. All the prettiness of a northern winter with its snow-covered trees and unspoiled white vistas is pretty much shot to hell with the slushy, dirty mass that an urban winter becomes. Add bonehead drivers to the mix and the aesthetic appeal is rapidly lost. I'm one of these Canadian weirdos who actually likes playing hockey in the summertime. I like going to the rink in shorts & sandals.

W is also for WOW. There was a news article recently out of that little quagmire known as Afghanistan. In any conflict there are tales of bravery and heroism which stagger the imagination (e.g. Robert Lawrence MC, late of the Scots Guards and his actions at Tumbledown Mountain in the Falkland Islands in 1982). I'm not under any illusions about the brutality of warfare, but the stories that emerge are aften uplifting. I cannot do justice to this tale, suffice it to say my admiration for these 4 Royal Marines knows no bounds. Wow, indeed.

Finally, and most importantly,

W is for Wife. My amazing one, to be specific. (Yeah I know...I talk about her lots in this alphabet series, but she deserves it.) I love her to bits and I can't imagine life without her. 'juff said. We've known each other for almost 5 yrs now and been married for nearly 2. Most amazing time of my life. :)

V is for Various

Yes, this is a belated and somewhat eclectic post, but it will have to
suffice.

V is for Victory...something my hockey teams and the Maple Leafs have been
lacking of late. No, I still don't want to talk about Monday night's
game. ;-)

V is for Vengeance, referring to the recent execution of the favourite son
of Tikrit. Although...I have to say I'm a little surprised they didn't
keep him around for his subsequent trials. Yes, I know he was guilty as
all hell, but due process is due process.

V is for Voluntary...Penny and I have finally bitten the bullet and
decided to do the gym thing. Neither one of us can really say, "oh, its
just happy fat" anymore and with the big 4-oh looming for me in '08, I
know that hockey just won't do the trick for me. So we started a little
while ago with a realistic plan for increased activity and a little
culinary/dietary balance.

V is for Victim...a while back, Toronto Police took the unprecedented step
of publishing a highly sanitized photo of a child sex abuse victim in
order to identify the location and eventual identity of her abuser.
Amazingly enough, they accomplished both ends (with the cooperation of
thise FBI folks down south). The victim, now 14, has since willingly
abandoned her anonymity and has made victim impact statements available to
courts where the accused possess pictures or movies of her. While her
abuse took place in the US, this kind of sickness truly knows no
borders...and a former Air Canada flight attendant here in The Big Smoke
is at the end of her trial. Victim she may be, but she's one brave little
girl.

Finally, I know it has been a while. School and work have chewed up a lot
of my time, so my posting frequency is likely to be somewhat diminished.
Sadly it looks as though a number of my favourite reads are slowly falling
away.

So, for all of my delays....V is for apology. Did you know that?

Vi vapologise. ;-)

U is for Unexpected

Unexpected is right. Penny and I were unexpected...by her parents, that is. We pulled off the complete and total surprise of her parents when we showed up last night. They were really touched that we came down to spend Christmas with them. Nothing like a little positive karma for future use. ;-)

Unexpected also refers to the amount of rain we're receiving. At this time of year we can expect brief showers on & off during the day. However, we've had a rather steady downpour for the balance of the afternoon. Before the rains really hit Penny and I managed to hit the nearby pool and hot tub for some totally unseasonal Christmas Day swimming. Sure beats the Polar Bear Swim hands-down.

I hope this Christmas Day finds you well and enjoying the day wherever you are.

T is for Technical Difficulties

I'm really wanting to make some changes to this blog. I wouldn't mind looking at a different template or something really cool. However, with all the changes that the good folks at Blogger have made, they really missed the boat on adding some new, funky templates.

I was all set to try a modified version of one of the standard ones (including my banner and all that stuff) but I got so lost in the code, I gave up and reverted to this one. I think I've managed to sort out an issue with the background and how it loads at higher resolutions, so that should help a bit.

Guess I'll have to, like, bribe Kal and tap into his blogger code expertise. Wonder what he'll want for that?

S is for Surprises, Sun, Sand, Swimming, and Sex

( Edit at end of Post)

All four of those things will be had in various combinations and permutations because DW and I will be in sunny Florida for part of the Holidays. Here's how I mentioned it at work:

Me: "I got my wife a plane ticket as her Christmas present."

Smart-ass Co-worker: "Wow, that's nice of you. To where?"

Me: "Florida, to go see her folks and surprise them."

SaCw: "Really? So what will you be doing while she's gone?"

Me: "Um, I'm going with her."

SaCw: "Oh. Not much of a present then, huh?"

But seriously, ladies and germs....My poor DW has been somewhat worn to a frazzled remnant of her former self from the madness which is her workplace. This year has been a bit of a challenge for Christmas gifts between us because neither of us has any specific wants or needs. But she sent me a text message from work a little while back, telling me that if she could have it, she would love 3 consecutive days off, preferably somewhere warm. This little plan is brought to you by the fact that the Wondertwins are with their father for Christmas this year.

So off to the Scare Canada website I went, and - a few "Page Cannot be loaded" messages later, we had flights to visit her folks down at their winter place on the Gulf Coast. They are expecting to be all on their lonesome this year because the MiL's younger brother is ill and won't be able to travel down as originally planned. DW has confirmed that they will actually be at home when we arrive (although that might make for a really funny post later. Once we've actually started laughing about it, that is.)

In all honesty, I can use a little break myself. If nothing else, I can take 4 whole days off from school and work and basically put my brain on auto-pilot.

So there we have it....surprising her parents, sunny skies, sandy beaches, swimming in the nearby pool and much, much, much travel sex. Happy Holidays indeed!

******************************************************
S is also for Sacrifice. I can't say enough about the sacrifices DW makes for me and for our family. More often than not she deserves better than what she gets back, but its never unnoticed at this end. I couldn't imagine being without her. Not for a minute. I love you, baby...

R is for Remorse, Recriminations and Recontacting Rosie

Before I get into the heavier stuff, give a shout out to my old High School classmate Rose. A transplanted Canadian, she's married to a US Army guy and lives in upstate NY. Rose was a year behind me in school but was taking my French class (the keener) and her brother, James, was also a classmate.

Of course, none of this would be interesting without that Six Degrees of Separation tale, right?

I had been in touch with Rose via email years ago and managed to lose her contact details. But I came across her (and her blog) while reading the comments about another classmate and bandmate and friend of long standing who was facing, well, a life-altering moment.

You see, D - a well known and well-respected middle school teacher back home - was about to plead guilty to a luring charge involving one of his own students. It almost seems like the classic case. Popular teacher, high standing in the community, award winning, active in his church, dedicated to wife and family and passionate about his job....busted for rather inappropriate online activities.

39 years old, and life -as he knows it - is over.

Unfortunately, in our hermetically sealed little burg up North, this is major news, and, of course, everyone and his dog has an opinion. The opinions range from disbelief, to denial to righteous condemnation and absurd speculations. My sister being one of the many contented by their righteousness - "oh, I'm not surprised at all", she says. (I hear she's screening Martha to come in and re-do the ivory tower she currently calls home.)

Anyway, I'm not among those who will be calling for D's head. I just can't. While I find his actions deplorable both personally and professionally, I won't define the man by this bad act. Fortunately, there are some other bandmates who are taking the same stance. I took the time to write him a letter that said I'd stand by him no matter what. I also said that if he was wrongly accused, he should fight hard. But I also told him that if he was the man I knew him to be and if he was indeed guilty that he should face the music and spare everyone the grief of a trial.

Now some people might wonder why I'd be willing to stand by someone who will likely be known (not necessarily accurately) as a sex offender for the rest of his life...a man whose teaching career is over...a man facing a long road of personal reflection and emotional challenge.

...because he was there for me at a time when I faced guilt by association in that same small burg, and because I still believe he's a good man...although one who was clearly struggling with his identity (not to excuse his actions at all.)

Yes, he stood by me when I needed my friends, and that kind of dedication is something you never ever forget.

Q is for Quintessential Queries

As my DW has already done, it is my turn to share with you...

SIX WEIRD THINGS ABOUT MY WIFE

1. Some of you know that Penny has some rather chilly body parts. Feet. Flanks. Glutes. Its a running joke with us because I am, as someone once tagged me, The Human Hot Water Bottle. So you would think that she would appreciate being warm? Apparently not. She loathes hot feet and hot hands. Hates it. She feels all clammy, especially with her feet. We're not sure where the happy medium is. She has a pair of what she calls "Magic Socks" which alleviate the worst of the cold feet in bed, but eventually they come off.

2. Some women go nuts about shoes. Fortunately, my wife isn't one of them. Granted, she has way more in terms of footwear than I do, but she's nowhere near obsessed. However, she does have one clothing fetish: scarves. Not just any scarves. Ones she can knit. I'm very impressed with anyone who can knit, and my wife is one of the better ones at it. But she goes all giddy when she sees a scarf pattern, particularly if its some new, funky, multi-strand chunky design. Me? I don't get it. But it makes her happy.

3. There's nothing wrong with liking chocolate, but apparently if a chocolate treat involves layers, this triggers something in my wife. For example, with chocolate covered jujubes, she will eat all the chocolate off, suck the jujube clean of any remaining chocolate and then eat the jujube itself. She has to do this one at a time. Unless, of course, its a black one, and then I get it.

4. As some of you have seen, my wife is, well...um...uh...let's just say that 'June is bust-ing out all over.' As a result, if you have a body part that is likely to receive a lot of visual interest, I suppose it stands to reason that you want to make sure its presentable. This often means nipple alignments. Before she goes out anywhere, she'll often get me to make sure her "nipples are straight". If I look at this rationally, I suppose I wouldn't want one nipple pointing one way while the other is cock-eyed (so to speak) but as a guy, I just get to have free boobie looks. :)

5. Penny and I are equally bad for this one, but we often start crafts and leave them untouched for long periods of time. With Penny its needlepoint. With me, its models. We both have half-started or even untouched projects of various shades tucked away. In Penny's defence, she does complete some of them. In fact, she just completed and framed one that became a commemorative for our wedding. (Feb 5, for those of you planning to send Anniversary gifts) I'll let her tell you how that came about.

6. "There's no such thing as 'too hot'", she says. While this does not apply to feet or hands it does apply to that most exclusive of condiments: horseradish. Now, being of strong English stock I appreciate a good roast beef and horseradish, but Penny takes it up a notch. When we visit her "Aunt" for some of the Jewish holidays, she often has this wild purple horseradish which could curl nosehairs at fifty paces. That stuff became Penny's benchmark for "hot". Since then she's been on a quest for the ultimate hot horseradish. Borrowing a page from Kal, she's referred to some of the alleged "Extra Hot" offerings from the local grocery store as "Ussy-Pay". "Extra Hot, my ass", she says after biting into a roast beef sandwich in anticipation. Personally, I don't know what the right recipe is. We're still looking for the purple stuff.

There you go. She might be weird, but she's all mine and I love her to bits.

P is for Patriotism and a few other things

I admit it. I'm the closest thing to a flag-wavin' nut you're likely to see in this country. I get goosebumps listening to the Anthem, and I get a real swell of pride on Canada Day, watching the Snowbirds, and even on Remembrance Day. I dunno what it is, but I've got it. I love the flag, I love all the things this nation has accomplished and I appreciate the fact that its largely done without a lot of horn-tooting.

Of course, I can appreciate some good satire when I see it. These guys really top the list:



and



Gotta love it.

I suppose I'll even grand some grudging admiration to Weird Al and "Canadian Idiot"



But of course, "P" is really for Penny. My favourite Canadian Pervert (thanks, Kal. Btw, how's that ilicit sex video traffic doing?) I know I've raved on
ad infinitum about the awesomeness of my wife. And I'll continue to do so. So there. She rocks. and she's MINE. (Sorry Lowk, Kal, Larry, Dani, Callie, et al....)

And just for her, I'll leave you with this video from one of her favourite Canadians:



P.S. Ed, I haven't forgotten about the Meme tag. I promise I'll get to it.

O is for Ouch

Ouch. So there I was. No shit. Game was scoreless through 2 periods. 2:30 into the period they score. And again. And again. We lose 3-zip.

A disappointing state of affairs.

O is also for Oops.

When the venerable Grey Cup is presented to the winning team after the game, the boys get their hands on the actual 94 year old trophy. Unlike the Stanley Cup, which has 3 replicas on the go and the original safely on display at the Hockey Hall of Fame in Toronto. As with anything else which is 94 years old, the Cup tends to be a little fragile....as a BC Lion discovered to his chagrin on live TV when he....

Broke. The. Grey. Cup.

Yep. He broke it. Snapped if off its base.

This thing has had its share of bumps and bruises over the years but its never been busted like that before. And certainly not on live television.

It has since been repaired by a very talented Winnipeg welder.

Oh is also for Oh My God. As in what was Michael Richards thinking??

Oh, I seem to have reached the end of this post. Oh dear.

N is for "Now??"

...something I often ask Penny.

N is also for "Never say Die", which is exactly what the BC Lions did all season long and they kicked the asses of the Montreal Alouettes all over the field in the 94th edition of the Grey Cup, held yesterday in Winnipeg.

N is for Nit-picky. That's how I was working on a recent photo editing assignment. I was stuck in pixel land and I wasn't sure I was coming back.

That is all...

M is for Magna Carta

Okay, okay, so its a little historical geekery in the title. This rather belated entry is actually not about the 1215AD document as the foundation for representational governance. Honest, its not!

Its really more of a tribute to she who is My Wife. She who is Magnificent. Mollifying. More Meticulous than the gives herself credit for. And, most importantly, MINE.

MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE!

(heh...sorry. Got a little carried away there.)

Have you ever had one of those "reality" moments? A moment where you think , rather objectively, about a situation that you're in and you just say, "How. Holy shit." Or words to that effect. "Is that really what happened?" I had one of those, recently. Not in a bad way, or anything. Just one of those, "wow, I really married this woman?" moments. More of a recognition of good fortune. She really is awesome, MY wife. I just love her to bits.

k, fine. So this wasn't really a "M" post. Except for the fact that Penny is Mine. My Wife. My Love. Mea Vita. Meum Mel. My pearl beyond price.

And, Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm
(so what if it's TMI? Ed and Sue will understand) ;-)

L is for Loss

The idea of "loss" has been much on my mind for the past several days.

So here we go.

Loss - what my Thursday team managed to do despite some unexpectedly
strong efforts on my part.

Loss - what my Argos managed to do on Sunday afternoon after fluking their
way to the East Final. A disappointing game from them on all fronts.
"Loss" will no doubt be felt by those who will not be returning to the
team next year.

Loss - what the Leafs managed NOT to do, despite losing Sundin and
Raycroft over the past couple of games. A 5-1 rout of Montreal was
clearly what the Team Therapist ordered.

Loss - Keenly felt on November 11th as Canada paused to remember those
killed, wounded or forever scarred by war. I can't help but notice that
my Legion's contingent in the town's parade was a little smaller this
year.

Loss - What my colleague 'L' is no doubt feeling after the loss of her
baby, just 11 days shy of her due date. She and her hubby had been trying
for 6 years to get pregnant and we were over the moon for her. We got the
sad news on Friday. Such cruel irony that many unworthies breed like
rabbits, yet this wonderful woman and her husband face yet another
staggering setback. Sometimes words are just not enough.

K is for Kick-Ass

(Don't get on me about hyphenations. This is my blog, so I'll do what I wanna!)

Yes...kick-ass would be the way to describe this last week. Or Kicking ass. Whatever works.

• I kicked ass in my most recent assignment for school. Got another "A". (Kick-ass!)
• I saw two totally kick-ass football games this weekend. The Argos and Bombers played a thriller, albeit in front of a disappointing playoff crowd. Then the Roughriders and the Stamps put on a great show.
• Michael Bishop - kicked ass coming off the bench cold to throw 2 TDs to clinch the Argo win.
• Saskatchewan's Defence - kicked Calgary's ass for the bulk of the game, setting up a major West division update
• My current model building efforts on a 1970 Plymouth 440 GTX - kicks ass.
• My Monday team - kicked ass last week to keep us in the top half of the league
• My Thursday team - kicked ass last week in a nice upset win.
• My wife - just generally kicks ass for her awesomeness

So there's your kick-ass post for a kick-ass Monday.

J is for Jones

Technical Designator: Jones, Kalezac Prometheus (ussy-Pay, Mk 1, Mod 0), one each, for the purpose of.

Scientific Nomenclature: Gluteus Irritatus Maximus

Ah, Jones. Wifey-pooh's vassal. Motherdear's firstborn. BG's endless competition. Handler of Recondo, keeper of The Garage, and major-domo for Rasta Cat. Jones, the Shameless luster-afterer of Penny and self-proclaimed successor to The Stony One in the event of his untimely (yet likely suspicious) demise. He, closet photo documentarian; tireless denouncer of irritating Mass-holes and ardent political op-ed blogger.

Truly, my friend, what can I say that has not already been said?

I think the burning question in everyone's mind is, "Dude, seriously. Like, what's up with the creepy rotting food pictures?"

Yes, friends, J is for Jones. World wthout end, Amen.
(pass the potatoes)

I is for Idiot

Well, what the hell else would I use? My loyal readership knows that I don't suffer fools well, and as Nov 11 draws closer, they seem to come out of the woodwork more and more.

Here's the latest example and aftermath.

People's lack of respect and consideration never cease to amaze me. And if ever there was a group of Canadians who deserve it unconditionally, its our veterans.

And then, just for kicks, you get idiots like this one. I don't envy the officers who have to learn to cope with what they see. Humanity saddens me sometimes.

I is for Idiot, indeed.

H is for Happy Birthday!

...and a Happy Birthday to The Panama Jackass, that Missouri Masher, that Nature Boy, that Deuce Bigolow Wanna-be...

LARRY!

G is for Goalie

Well, duh. What did you think I would choose?

G is also for Google. Without which I'd never be able to amaze Penny with my repository of useless information. Bless you, Google.

G is for "Go Figure", one of my signature phrases. Very handy in a number of anecdotal situations. It can say "that's an interesting story", or "fuck me, I'm bored of hearing this story AGAIN" with equal affinity.

G is for G spot. (Maybe one of these days Jones will figure out what happens when he finds it). When people tell me to go to my happy place, I know what I'm thinking about. Everyone else thinks I'm pondering a pleasant meadow. Silly rabbits.

G is for Grumpy. Which I am sometimes. I admit it. So, deal.

And finally,

G is for Guitar. An instrument I love to play but don't get to play much anymore. *sigh*

F is for, um...

How about "flailing", does that work? Cuz we all know what "F" is really for (I know Ed and Sue know for sure!)

F is definitely for Football. Unfortunately, Penny and I seem to be bad luck for the Argos because they lost every game we attended this year. So we're not going to attend the East Division semi-final this weekend. Instead, I'll just watch on the Tube.

F is for Five...as in a 5-2 win last night in my Ajax league. And I was doing a lot of flailing around at the puck for sure.

F is for FUBAR. Heh. 'nuff said there.

But F is really for Friends. And I count you all among them. :)

E is for Eerie

Sometimes it takes my wife to point things out.

I had come home from hockey late Monday night (I'll just slip past the ol' procrastination issues here) and I had showered and DW was staring at my left side as I changed.

"Oh my god" she said. "What happened to you?"

I gave her an odd look.

She said, "Your chest protector has branded you. You've got a pentacle! No, seriously!"

Of course, I didn't believe her but I went to the bathroom to check it out in the mirror. She wasn't kidding. I had the faint outline of a pentacle on my rib cage.

You knew we had to take pictures to prove it, right?

Here ya go...here's proof that I bear the mark.














First the cross thing, now this? What's next?

D is for D'OH!

Probably the singular catchphrase announcing failure, recognition of retroactive error or realization that you just uttered something you shouldn't have uttered.

Way better than "oops" by a long shot.

Of all the contributions to Western society provided by Matt Groening, I'd say that one was the biggest.

(Pretty sure that's what Larry said after The Steph posted that picture....)