My mobile phone ‘knocks’ informing me of a text. ‘Indy and I will be over in about an hour.’ Huh? What have I forgotten now? Oh, right, my brother’s family are off on a pre-Spring Break ski vacation and Indy don’t shred.
I hope Indy hasn’t been to any pungent day spas. Indy shall be staying for about five days. Which is a good thing, since it means I get in a morning walk and possible a stop at my favourite cafe.
Since I am an unabashed glutton for potential punishment, Monday morning sees Indy and I off for our morning constitutional, so naturally I guide our trek towards (Horseman, Dogwalker) Fishroller’s Park. Indy does her Indy things, as she stops and sniffs and investigates all the known smells of the area. She has grown very comfortable at this Dodgy Doggy Abode. Indeed, her ride here, took an odd route and Indy did NOT enjoy the detour to Langley, but once she found herself on the back road and headed towards Grandma and Grandpa’s she perked right up, relaxed and poked her head out the window.
We pause for a photo opportunity to prove we did, indeed, go to Horseman’s Park.
G’morning Fate, what’s new with you?
I planned to loop the park in reverse of our normal path but let her off leash because she is an odd mutt that refuses to poop while on a lead. We cannot flip our route because I spy a couple with their dog, I give a nod to Fate as we head along our regular loop and Indy is off-leash.
What could possibly go wrong? What was that Fate, I didn’t hear you?
Fortunately, Fate takes mercy on my hubris as a large dog approaches us on leash, I clip Indy back in, which is wise, because this thick, hefty dog lunges towards my pooch to play. Both dogwalkers steer their beast away and along the trail. Then, sagely, I forget to unhook Indy until we are past the fish rolling area of the park and once we have moved past any options of riverside visits and side paths, I unhook her and permit her to wander free once more. At least until another dogwalker, with a rat-sized dog approaches, I grasp Indy by her collar and when I look up, the aged walker has scoop up her dog-rat in her arms to protect her precious rodent-canine from Indy, a quiet, cowardly, friendly dog. (Especially around salmon. Stupid mutt.)
That’s okay though, because as soon as the woman passes with a baleful, disapproving glance in our direction over her shoulder, I release Indy who bounds free to reconnect with the known and new sights and scents of Fishroller (but not today!) Park.
This unfortunate harness was worn by Indy on our extra odiferous walk to Horseman’s Park. It took 3 thorough bathes for Indy to stop reeking so much that she was allowed indoors.
No such luck for this dog accessory. Even incinerating it might have released a noxious cloud banned by the Geneva Conventions.
The Things at Grandma’s place generally get to run riot with space to room and rooms to ‘redecorate’. Pillow forts claiming most of a room was common, the bunk room became a place of hidden snacks and secret conversations. The Monster Under the Sink needed to be fed in the rec room, around games of Rolly Balls, when the Things were not tall enough to see over the felt of the pool table. Sidewalk chalk, Zombie, Horsey Owner, dance performances, many a visit to the river that flows through the backyard.
The fascinating observation is how these games are created, explored, enjoyed and then abandoned. The Things have grown up. To be clear, this primarily focuses on the four younger Things, Thing 1 was born an adult in mini-formatting. Partially due to there being a gap of enough years between her and Thing 2, she grew up around grandparents, aunts and uncles relatively alone, and partially due to her father having once been 4 going on 44. While the younger Things would have ‘the usual’ while clustered around the TV watching Paw Patrol or Wild Kratts, Thing 1 would eat with the adults at the table, having whatever we were having. For her ‘the usual’ was sandwiches or soup.
Throughout the long infestation of Things at Grandma and Grandpa’s house, one item enjoys continued attention for reasons that escape me.
A wheelchair.
One very old, rickety, wobbly wheelchair. During the most recent invasion, Thing 5 found the wheelchair and first played with it downstairs, but it quickly took up residence in the middle of the hallway when he wasn’t wheeling around in it. With five bonus bodies in the house, Thing 5 managed to find a way make things even more cluttered and clustered. Thing 5’s fascination with the wheelchair befuddles me. By the end of their stay, he could do stalled wheelies in it, a matter of pride because Thing 3 and Thing 1’s Plus 1 could both accomplish the same feat.
This was displayed over the Yuletime season as around games of pool (which all the Things took part in, as well as some parents) the wheelchair found its way out into the entrance hall where between shots on the felt of the pool table, one of the young men would be sat working on their wheelies.
After taking the picture above, when Thing 5 asked, “Uncle Byron, have you seen the wheelchair?” I replied, yes. I had moved it to prove a point. I told him it was tucked away, he found it in short order, but I informed him as he got ready for bed that night, that if he left it abandoned somewhere in the middle of a thoroughfare in this suddenly high traffic house, I would hide it Far Better, as the first time was a Learning Moment.
Thing 5 responds best to threats.
That night, the wheelchair was folded up and rolled into a position behind one of the couches where it was properly out of the way. As I was informed, “You just have to give me the right motivation, Uncle Byron.” Got it. Threats in the future!
During a previous Christmas dinner, as I went downstairs to check on the turkey (doesn’t everyone have two stoves in their place, one of which needs to be at least 40 years old with some… quirks,) Things 2-5 had the wheelchair at the top of the stairs, preparing to race up and down the hallway around the kitchen, I imagine. I shipped the lot of them back downstairs and the relative coolness and open space there. I did not even permit them to get out an argument. There were 12-14 people packed in the house for the holiday on that night, there was NOT room for the wheelchair to clatter and bump its way around the upstairs.
The best moment of Thing 5’s wheelchair excursion was when he asked, “Does anyone want ice cream?” Father and cousin declined, Uncle Byron requested ice cream from Thing 5. Not just because I enjoy ice cream, I do, but because I know the mind of Thing 5. “Watch! I will get ice cream without using my legs!” This… this is way I instantly said yes to his offer. Sure enough, Thing 5 rolled the wheelchair to the freezer, pulled out the cartons of ice cream, wheeled over to the counter and then got out the ice cream scoop from the drawer. So far, so easy. Now for the show. Displaying an amazing feat of upper body strength after only a few days in a wheelchair, Thing 5 levered up to get the bowls out of the cabinets affixed to the wall over the counter. He did it by sheer will and upper body power, manfully balancing on one hand and arm while fetching the porcelain bowls with the other… All the while Father and Cousin and Uncle Byron giggled with laughter as Thing 5 was clearly standing on his feet to perform this feat.
I can forgive Thing 5 for shorting me on the ice cream. It was well worth it.
It just goes to show that even with all the new technologies and distractions, encouraging the youth to use their creative sides often leads to down unexpected pathways. Hopefully wide enough and smooth enough for able bodied Things to roll along in an archaic wheelchair.
I refuse to accept any responsibility for incident. I briefly touched on it on Friday with a picture and micro story about it. Call it a teaser.
As the chaos swirled around my tranquil little place on the river after descending in an unexpected fury of a flurry of a hurry, the visitors continued about their lives and I tried to avoid the morning carnage. As my sister-in-law headed out the door with her niece and a kid or two in tow, I heard an over the shoulder suggestion of “Can you take Indy for a walk this morning?” Foolishly, I agreed.
Not really so foolishly. I find having the responsibility of a dog forces me to be a bit more active. Nothing crazy like the amount of lacrosse Things 3 and 5 are committed to, but a good, brisk morning walk with a dog does get my legs some appreciated exercise. A good 45 minute walk seems in order, so Indy and I head back to Horsemans (Dogwalker) Park, there is another, longer loop that in retrospect I sincerely wish I’d taken, but then I would not have this story to share.
I studied writing at university and now have been scribbling on my blog on, then off, then on again for nearly 15 years. Rereading Dogwalker Park gives a healthy dose of unintentional foreshadowing. Which is both the best and worst type of storytelling because it suggests that something referred to a previous story or chapter resonates and can be called back to add some depth or character development.
Indy show zero character development in this tale.
Bad dog!
The trip to the park starts without anything of note. Humble Roots is not yet open, but in the back of my mind I plan to take Indy there for a visit. The staff at the restaurant like my brother’s pooch. Indy loves the attention. She definitely have abandonment issues.
We reach the entrance to the park and I let her off leash. This place is nearly deserted. There is a solitary walker doing the opposite loop around the trail, the guy reaches out to pet Indy, but until she knows someone, she can be skittish. She shies away. The man shrugs and we exchange pleasantries. If we met him halfway around the loop on the backhalf of our walk, she likely would have bounded up and nudged him for a scratch. Fortunately for the walker, his perambulation only includes one walk.
Indy veers towards the river and I think nothing of it. In January there was a cold spell and we received a lot of snow. Nothing to worry about here. No chance of anything untowards happening to myself or Indy on this well trod path. Nope. None at all. Everything is idyllic! A wintery sun shines through the bare limbs of the deciduous trees, and the scent of a spring rebirth teases the chill air.
Indy dashes off towards the river and I don’t give it a thought. She recognizes the smells and revels in the known and new olfactory sensations. This is ground she has trod before, and might again. (Although, after today, that chance drops precipitously.) I glance at the sluggish water as I meander through the trails, moving in the opposite direction of the river flow. Indy bounds past me, intent on another of her scent hunts. My nose crinkles at some pungent stench but I move on and leave it in my wake.
Nothing much of note happens on our loop around Dogwalkers Park. Indy does her Indy explorer things. I continue a steady, ground-eating gait as I need to submit a bid later today. Nothing immediately pressing.
Things start to go wrong when I clip the leash back on and I take a proper look at Indy. There is a distinctive wet matting of her fur around her shoulders and chest. Accompanying the wet look is a distinctive rotting stench.
This… is not good.
As we retrace our steps back home, the miasmatic smell emanating from behind this mongrel beast nearly causes me to gag and this is while outside in the cool morning air. We skip Humble Roots as by this point I have realized Indy and I are headed directly home and I am seriously contemplating luring her into the river in the hopes of the water rinsing off her stained smell.
At home, I inform my sister in law of the good and the bad. The good, it was an enjoyable walk. The bad, Indy must have rolled and thoroughly coated and stained her fur in a dead chum salmon carcass. A fish that died at least four months ago and has been growing more and more fetid and rotted over the course of a season.
Indy suffers through two complete showers and shake-offs, my sister-in-law wisely wears plastic disposable gloves. It barely helps. She spends the day in Puppy Purgatory on the sundeck off the house and whines pitiably when everyone but my brother eat lunch. Closing the drapes only means we avoid the puppy dog eyes of baleful hurt canine feelings, she still wines incessantly.
Much later, Indy gains a trial house access, but, the two showers are not sufficient. If she so much as tries to get off her time-out carpet, I scold her back into place. My sister-in-law has gone noseblind to the reek, until she leaves for a few minutes and returns and concedes. Indy needs another, proper shower. I had considered taking her to Pawparazzi, but would have felt guilty having her first introduction to the local dog grooming business to be Long Dead Zombie Stink dog.
My best guess is that Indy must have planned to go out lady’s night at the Kennel Klub and she wanted to put her best stenched perfume forward to attract all the dogs in the house.
She definitely ended up in the dog house for this stunt.
After dinner, after a half-hearted debate, the parents head off to Bosleys in Pitt Meadows where there are proper dog washing stalls. Indy and her family return about an hour later and while I would not go so far as to say Indy was smelling fresh as new cut grass, she also no longer reeked of Long Dead Fish Corpse.
She was permitted not only to sleep indoors, but sleep in her preferred spot which is right outside the doors of the bedrooms at the end of the hallway.
All in all, an unforgettably regettable walk at Horsemans… Dogwalkers… Fishroller Park.
It is 7am and I am awake. Not because I have an early work start but because I have five extra people in the house. My parents are off on a South Pacific Cruise, the pictures suggest that luxury suits them.
So why I am up now? And why has the house double in inhabitants?
I will never be a morning person, but at least the coffee has dripped through. It helps. A bit.
***
Our story begins two days ago. Enjoying a relatively quiet weekend with my folks away, when my brother calls me to update me on the impending, soon-to-be descending chaos. My sister-in-law’s niece has been planning a year abroad in Canada for some time now. Nothing new there. What is new is that my brother’s family had prepared to put her up for a while until she gets her bearings in BC and figures out how to spend her work visa. It also was a way to convince the niece’s mother to permit her youngest to go overseas to a colony.
Great! I loved my year in Edinburgh, and I feel that travel is a great way to grow as a human.
While Pitt Meadows (as that family is called for… geographical reasons) expects an extended family visitor, they do NOT expect her to be appearing on Monday! Which she is. Normally this would cause a rush of excitement at the place, but it amplified as Tuesday the group from Pitt Meadows have decided to start renovating their place, which means, they fully half-thought of taking up residence her while the workers did the destruction part of the remodel.
The importee gets a night there, and then arrives at 9am the next morning with her aunt and I am having an unintended lie-in. Oops! They take Indy for a walk, while I stumble through a morning that I never catch up with until late afternoon. I skip breakfast, but coffee is a suitable substitute. I manage to be functional and charming enough to greet the trio, my sister-in-law, her niece and Indy. It takes some juggling but beds are assigned.
I head off to teach some English to a new Canadian, to some success I hope.
Afterwards, I have swing by the grocery in order to pick up some milk, ice cream, fruit and vegetables, I pick up enough food that would last me a week, I hope it will make 2 days. Shopping for six is much different than shopping for 1.
Returning home with the staples, the house looks chaotic. Things 3 and 5 arrive and manage to settle right in by scattering their suitcases, sports gear and clothing all about the place. Indy resumes her preferred position of Sprawl Dog wherever she can be the most in the way. That dog loves attention. Demands it. And sheds as she enjoys her pets. It is not her fault and not her least attractive trait (that will be getting a stand-alone post soon enough.)
Thing 5 wuz here!
Last night I thought ahead and pulled a ham out of the freezer so everyone could have a welcoming, home-cooked meal. Ham, roasted potatoes and steamed vegetables make a fine first feast. Which it was. For 2/3rds of us. Thing 3 and her father have a lacrosse game at a local field. Thing 3 understandably doesn’t want to be weighed down with a heavy meal as she plays a heated rival. The rest of us tuck in and enjoy the food. Especially, I suspect, my brother and sister-in-law as usually despite working full time and raising a pair of very busy kids who play on multiple teams in a number of sports, they also have to make dinner more nights than not. Also, I know the layout of the kitchen better and it is more efficient for me to prepare the meals than anyone else.
I will say, cooking for one is difficult simply because lack of motivation, cooking for 2-3 is relatively straight forward and results in better food than solo chef Byron, cooking for six is a real challenge. Especially with a pair of active, growing young Things. Thing 5 devours vegetables first and finishes with the meat, while Thing 3 starts with the protein and completes dinner with the greens. I end up tucked at the head (or tail) of the table so I can be nearest to the kitchen and the oven.
After dinner (for most), finds me driving Thing 5 up to the field for a practice, because everyone else is already there watching Thing 3’s game. I cannot just drop them off, because knowing Thing 5, the chances of wandering off and ending up in some sort of mischief or other is high. For example; We park the pick-up truck and the following conversation unfolds, “Uncle Byron, should I take or leave my gear?” “Take it.” “Why?” “The bed it open and all your stuff could get stolen.” “Oh, right.” “Replacing all that gear would be costly and keep you off the field for a while.” “OOOOOH, Right.”
Thing 5 lugs the gear onto the field and is nearly home before me, due to having a nasty cold and being basically useless in practice.
I return home, Thing 3 and my brother eventually return and eat their home-microwaved meal. Then, bedtime. Jetlag claims one visitor at an acceptably late hour, Thing 5, then Thing 3 head into the bunk room. Brother and sister-in-law find their sleeping spots and Indy reclaims her place in the middle of the hallway outside of the bedroom doors.
I am last to bed at 11:30 (early for me) yet not the last awake at 7AM the next day, when the whole crazy scenario repeats itself anew.
Sometimes I hate being right. Chaos Personified hoped to be out of here by Thursday night, as soon as I heard the plan, I knew they would be staying until at least Friday. I was right.
Off to made dinner three.
I have always said I like a bit of chaos in my life… someone overserved me this round!
Vancouver and the Lower Mainland (which is the area around Vancouver – so called as it is in the southwestern corner of the province – and country – and on the continent, not an island), usually experiences fairly mild winters. Especially by Canadian standards.
2023 proved to be an exception is being nearly balmy and dry for November and December, 2024 started off following the script and then opted to go some cool jazz improvization. After a fortnight of relatively warm temperatures, an Arctic Airflow announced its presence with the temperature dropping well below freezing overnight and staying there for the foreseeable future. It has been several days so far, and it has been Damn Cold! That is an official temperature rating in Canada. Honest!
Energy consumption spiked as people cranked up the thermostat on their houses to try to keep warm. Our family’s fireplace has been constantly alight with some of Grandpa’s wood being burnt through that he received for Christmas last year (from my brother) even if it wasn’t delivered until nearly this Christmas by Thing 1 and her boyfriend.
We are fortunate.
We have a cozy house and decent heating and options.
Not everyone is so fortunate. In their wisdom, the local communities have opened up Warming Centres for the unhoused at various places around the Lower Mainland. At least one, frequently multiple centres depending on the population of those in need for basic human necessity and kindness. A place to grab a hot meal, avoid the bone-chilling cold and maybe even a shower.
This… is a good idea!
Naturally the local government agencies found a way to mess this up.
In typical bureaucratic fashion, they did a good deed in the most bass-ackwards way possible. Currently, there are warming stations open… from 7AM to 9PM.
Can any eagle eyed reader spot the obvious flaw in this arrangement? I will natter on regardless. Malls and grocery stores, markets and shops are all open during the daylight hours, so finding a place to minimize the cold is possible. Yes, it is not ideal, and some shop keepers will ask the unhoused to move on, but there are options for ingenious people to find a way to keep warm. Then, when the stores close, and the temperature drops, the warming centres shut up shop and leave those in need literally out in the cold. It is a cruel decision made by draconian bureaucrats.
Ideally, the warming centres would not close when the temperature peaks below freezing, permitting people to find shelter from the elements. If they must close, for whatever governmental reasons, then it seems to this common-sense spewing pundit that having the warming centres open overnight, during the midnight cold hours would be the best use of the facilities to assist those in need. Instead, while their are options available, in their wisdom governments and city halls opt to open up places to assist those shivering in the arctic outflow before booting them back into the cold when it is colder and darker.
Tax dollars at work!
Show some real compassion, community leaders and make those stuck and frozen in the Great Outdoors welcome in a warmed indoors.
Date: 01/13/2024 Location: Rogers Arena, Vancouver, BC Teams: Calgary Roughneck vs. Vancouver Warriors
Proving that the NLL has more than just two teams, (Where are the Seals?) attendance at this match came about in short order. My brother called and asked if I wanted to go on Friday night, so roughly 24 hours later, I was bundling up to commute with my brother, my sister-in-law and Thing 5 to make a chilly trek into the city. Thanks Arctic Airflow, I am Canadian but I am a Lower Mainlander, which means I do not approve of the cold anywhere up at hockey rinks and on mountain tops. Two places where I can avoid ice and snow. With daily highs not reaching 0 degrees Celsius (to any American readers, learn Celsius, Farenhiet is an outdated temperature system,) we were bundled up for the evening game.j
Dinner was A&W Drive through burgers, fries and root beer to avoid paying arena concession pricing. And oh how the Aquilini’s love to gouge a fan at every turn.
It is Country Night at the Arena, and I suggested going as the Netherlands. Everyone in orange shirts with some red, white and blue face paint. I was over ruled. Instead it was cowboy hats and plaid shirts. My gigantic head didn’t fit in the found hat of I tried to wear, but Thing 5 rocked his red trimmed cowboy hat and we settled in to watch the game.
It was a terrible game.
The save of the night for Vancouver, went to a half-cut fan who snagged a ball that ricocheted out of the arena and he snagged it out of mid-air without spilling a drop of his beverage! The first Warrior goalie let in 4 goals on 5 shots and was promptly yanked, the backup keeper made a couple more saves to leave Vancouver trailing by 3 at half time. Keeper #1 returned to the net at the second half with similar results.
The turning point came with Vancouver trailer 12-7, the Warrior’s attack rang one of the post, the Calgary Roughneck player scooped up the rebound, hit a runner on the break who went in and promptly stick-faked Vancouver Keeper 1 and rippled the net. 13-7 instead of 12-8 was way too much for the Warriors to fight back into the game.
The game was rough and the officiating dire. They were not corrupt, but incompetent.
The real highlight was meeting Fro Pro (who is Thing 5’s friend and I play Fortnite with,) and with about 3 minutes left in the first half, Thing 5 asked me “Uncle Beeker, we need someone to sign a form to let us ride the mechanical bull we found, will you do it?”
I am nothing if not a good but naughty uncle. Naturally I said sure.
We cut through an utterly pointless (at Warriors’ games) security door. During NHL games and concerts, this acts as a VIP checkpoint, tonight is a minor chokepoint. We wander through the not-so VIP section, find the mechanic bull and I queue up while Thing 5 works his magic and instantly finds some other lacrosse team mates which permits him and Pro Fro to skip to the front of the line. But wait! It gets better. The 3 boys at the front of the line need someone to sign for them. Hey! That’s me. Me to the waiver form kid, “This is my nephew, and this is my lacrosse team. I coach them.” “Sign here.” I only know Thing 5 and just met Pro Fro, so me “Hey, boys, first name and age!” They shout them out, I scrawl them down, and 5 lacrosse players aged 11-12 get to ride a rather docile, mechanical bull. This bull is more decorative than most, and the operator wise uses the shaken not bucked setting.
The other highlight for me was seeing Big Jake Elliot on the jumbotron, he is a commentator for lacrosse on one of the sports networks. I have a few Big Jake stories, but most are unshareable because Jake dropped more F-bombs than a Tarantino flick. Him being permitted on live TV seems a recipe for disaster and fines, which actually makes me want to listen to watch the show. So maybe it is a smart decision to have Jake “Another F-Bomb” Elliot doing colour commentary.
The Warriors found a way to lose, a combination of terrible goal tending and shooting at the posts and crossbars instead of putting the ball in the net. At the end of the game, Calgary triumphed 14-7 but at no point did Vancouver lead or look likely to get back into the game. Any bit of momentum the Warriors gained was immediately snuffed out by a tame shot from the outside that managed to beat the keeper.
Was the game good? Nope. Was it a fun night out? Yes! Is the Warriors merchandise vastly over priced? Yes! Did we buy any? Nope.
Thing 5 did not like the tacky plastic gold link Timbr (mascot) medallion but would have paid $3 for it, the vendor pricing was $38. Astoundingly, many kids in the arena were wearing these gaudy-awful geegaws. Gah!
I finished up the Lost in Laos series, seven written parts with a picture insert, that link goes to chapter seven as it includes links to all the others.
But this goes back to one of my first Daytrips, around Son Tra peninsula. It is likely where Solita and I fell in love. These two guys were riding their super suped up motorbikes but were delighted to pose with me and enjoy the day and the ride. Sometimes it just about enjoying life. And life with Solita was always enjoyable and memorable.
With 2023 in the rear view mirror, rather than looking back I thought I would look ahead. Having said that, I likely will look back at some point. But for now, to boldly proclaim the things I am not likely to accomplish but will fail spectacularly! Huzzah!
I am extreme good a failing in a rather entertaining manner. Without further ado, let’s set me up for some chaotic, enjoyable failure.
Bold Claim 1: Write dammit! I will finish up two ongoing stories and start a third (or forth.) One is nearly finished (the Lost in Laos – that’s the penultimate chapter, but has links to all the previous ones) and the other has been on long term writer’s block impasse, but I am dedicated to working through the blockage and attempt to complete it. The Writer’s Block story is well progressed and available for reading on my blog but find it out and figure it out on your own. There are enough hints, although it has been stuck for about a year. Ah, what a yarn I am trying to spin. The other one is a Big Sprawly Idea that I have researched but need to sit down and start scritching out the story and characters.
Bold Claim 2: Working Tributaries. Start my youtube and streaming career. My ‘main job,’ I cannot call it a regular job as there is nothing normal about it, but it offers me flexibility to pursue my other interests. I finally have a starter computer that is good enough to stream and to create youtube videos and I have a decent concept in mind. I have planned it out enough, it is time to move forward and go from planning to producing the content. The world is changing, and gone are the days of the career my father had. He was an automotive mechanic for 50 years, the name on the building changed three times while he continued to wrench. That sort of longevity is a thing of the past. I need to have multiple income streams. Fortunately, I realized long ago I am a man of simple means. I prefer to collect memories over mementos, although I do have a few geegaws from my travels.
Bold Claim 3: Expand my Social Circles. I don’t really like people. I prefer to keep my own company and working from home and writing my stories means I often only leave the house to get groceries or go to my local cafe for an americano. I walk more when I fire up my Dodgy Dog Sitting Service. Current capacity of one Indy. After the New Year’s Day game of Indoor Mini Box-Lacrossing, I need to improve my cardio. Also, playing sports in fleece lined trousers is not a good idea. Damn you Thing 5! I am not saying I will go to a gym, but I will go by a gym!
Bold Claim 4: Video Gamery. Become less bad at video games. This is a very BOLD claim. (Written in Bold Capitals for the boldness of it).
Bold Claim 5: Deal with South Surrey Situation. I had to figure out how to word that so that I do not give away too much or project too much. Suffice to say, that starting early in the new year, things will be progressing towards a resolution. One that no one will likely consider a total victory. I am looking at it like I did when haggling over products in markets. As long as both sides are equally unhappy with the final sale price, it is likely a fair deal. If not, then, I am happy to hold out until my side definitively wins. An option that the other side does not have. All I ever ask for is an unfair advantage! This is definitely a long term goal.
Lesser Claims: I am lumping these together since this is a mostly frivolous post, in part to get me writing in 2024. 2023 proved successful but I could always have been more productive. Renew my Passport – It expired last year and I basically forgot about travelling during the pandemic. I don’t have any concrete trips in mind, but I do want the option again. I feel freer having a valid passport. Continue my Spanish – An Over 800 Day Streak. If (when) I make it to 2025, that will put me over 1000 days of learning some Spanish. Some days are better than others. Explore Locally – Yes, I want my passport for adventures further afield but there are plenty of shorter day trips I could be doing. Solita come back to me! Or maybe get my motorcycle license. Volunteer – At the end of last year I was asked to assist a new arrival to Canada improve their English. We have only just begun, there is plenty of room for growth but dusting off my teaching skills to help a young person adapting to a new country is rewarding in and of itself.
So there they are, a variety of things I hope to accomplish in 2024, some of which are easier than others, some which will take a day, others that should be ongoing throughout the year.
I don’t do resolutions, but some of these are intentionally small so that they can be accomplished. While others are definitely more of a challenge.
This is as close as anyone will get to a story with dragons by GRR Martin.
Happy 2024; Year of the Dragon. (Which means George RR Martin will NOT release book whatever of the Neverending Song of Procrastination)
Byron and his backpacks 