She Is Missed

Christmas marks the turning of a new solar year. Three days after the solstice the days begin to lengthen. Light is brought back to us with the promise of warmth to follow. One week later, the Julian calendar marks the New Year. We all go out and celebrate the symbolic passing of old to new, ironically repeating an ageless cycle. Now, a week on from New Year's, is another symbolic date. And again it feels like more than just a date but a real time of change.

It was a year ago today that my Mom passed away. January 8th, 2009 wasn't a time of light, but a time of darkness.

I spent most of that day flying back to Canada to visit my sick mother. As the plane was taxiing into the gate I was suddenly overwhelmed with odd feelings. I became dizzy and extremely nauseous. For a number of minutes all I could do was pant and hold the air sickness bag. I wasn't air sick.

The customs and baggage lines never felt longer. Cell phones don't work within Pearson airport. Something felt surreal. When I finally got to the transport desk, to catch my shuttle to the hospital, I got told I had a message from home.

That whole experience was like having colour turned off. Like a cloud, so thick and black, parked over me. Daylight was almost night. And try as I have, a part of the nausea and a part of the darkness have remained. It's the place in my soul I used to feel my mother. The part that told me when it was her calling on the phone. That part that told me when she died.

And yet today felt different. A year later and the thick dark cloud is slowly lifting. Like the long sloping line of a warm front, the horizon appears to be clear sky.

Today isn't a colourful day. But it is bright. The world outside is entirely white. A thick fog last night fell onto the trees and buildings as a beautiful pure-white ice. My eyes see it as a symbolic start, a point where darkness begins to give room to light. Today marks my new year.

I feel numb

Not good, not bad, I feel numb. Me and my cousin and aunt have just spent the whole day in the basement of my Dad's house. We've sorted a billion boxes of crap in preparation for an upcoming yard sale. And under the crap, a billion memories.


People's exhibit one. I can't believe this was me. Who? How long ago? How? Was I ever this young? And was I really this happy and hopefull?

Okay, this picture was taken the "day after" the first time I ever made-out with a girl. I was on top of the world!

In addition to pictures there were "artifacts" of my past. Heck, my whole past! Every test, every textbook, school project. My mother threw out nothing. But today I thew out most of it.

Someday I'll regret that. For now I'm impressed by the empty spaces in the basement, and the fullness of the garage. And I'm impressed that I have memories dating back 10, 15, 20, and 25 years.

The above picture was from 1985, and last year I was dating a girl born in 1984.

At first I just felt old. But honestly now, I just feel numb.

Time to fly

I fly today, for the first time in months. Packing is all new. All the handy pre-prepared bits (travel toiletries, etc.) are no longer laid out ready for use. And though I'm only going home to Canada, I can't decide what to bring, what needs packing and what doesn't. *sigh*

All symptoms of a bad week? No, more about symptoms of a bad spring. But I'm hoping this is a time of change. Over the coming weeks there will be a number of birthday celbrations, including for my Dad and for summer. Summer has to be better than the spring. The spring was better than the winter.

I'm hoping this will be a trip for healing. I'll help my Dad and I know he'll help me. And we'll work on the home renovations, get confused about cutting angles on trim pieces, and bond over fixing computer problems.

I see the clock says I have only a short while to the airport. Time for lunch, and packing up this laptop. It's time to fly.

Safari Morning

In England during and after the Second World War anyone could have recognized the sound of a Lancaster bomber. Or a Spitfire! 12 cylinders of Merlin engine, once or four times over. I'm what must be the 0.1% of my generation that can immediately recognize these things by sound. I spent most weekends of my adolesence at the airport. And one of the world's great aviation museums was close by. I volunteered at the annual airshow and knew the sound of every classic plane and engine that regularly flew there.

Even recently, I heard a DC-3 flying over and ran to a window to see it. Beautiful, and fully distinctive in it's own sound.

This morning I impressed myself with something similar, but original. I was laying in bed, still 90% asleep when I heard it...

Buzzzzzz, Bump, BUZZZzzzz, BUzzZZzz, BuzzZZ, Bump, BUZZZZZZZZZ, Bump

"Queen Bee!", went like a shot through my conscious and I was instantly awake. The elephant of the insect word was smashing its way around the curtains, and somehow I knew it from sound alone. It could have been a Merlin engine for all it's distinction. Clearly it was HUGE.

A few gentle tugs at the curtains revealed it really was a queen bee. And it really was Huge!

I got a stick to guide it out the, now fully, open window. She walked onto the end of the stick and rode it comfortably outside. Poor thing probably has a belly full of eggs and no collany yet to tend them. But my bedroom? No. Sorry. There shall be no bee hives in my bedroom.

Chickens, bunny rabbits, and squirrels are about the largest wild animals you'll ever see in Holland. (Yes, we have a lot of parks with "wild" chickens.) Relative to these normally benign surroundings, sleeping with a queen bee is like waking up on safari. It gets you moving in the morning.

He Doesn't Care

A few weeks ago I received my new punching bag. A floor standing "heavybag" intended for boxing and kickboxing practice. I use it to train the skills I'm learning in karate. It makes for excellect cardio excercise and builds strength too. But, it's 100kG weight sits on the floor and transmits much of the force of a punch or kick through to the apartment below me; or so I feared.

When I first got the bag I took multiple steps to mitigate noise problems. One was to add thick foam padding to the underside. Another step was to send a note to the neighbours. I figured that by anticipating the problem I would reduce the severity of noise complaints.

I met the downstairs neighbour yesterday, in the elevator. I introduced myself and asked about the noise.

"Huh? What? Oh, we never hear anything. And we're moving any way."

And we're moving any way?

"Oh, ok," I said," So the new neighbour won't have a noise problem? Good to know."

"Huh? Uhm, sure."

There was a look in his eyes. It said," Do you see these children I'm with? You could launch a nuclear strike and I wouldn't hear it over the noise these little demons make." He didn't say this out loud, since the little demons where right there at his feet. But I'm sure that's what the look said.

I expect that some day soon I'll neet the new downstairs neighbour. Thanks to the look from the old neighbour, I suspect it may well be regarding a noise complaint.

Finally a moment...

I'm here to report that I have finally felt a moment of peace.

It took a long time to figure out what it was, to find the word. It wasn't that I suddenly realized I felt happy. I didn't. But I didn't feel the pain either. There are challenges and bad times before me and behind, but this moment felt neutral. There is so much to be done, and yet nothing needed doing right then. After arriving home feeling sick yesterday, I finally felt well, and had slept.

And for a moment, peace felt good.

Thanks to Zeus the dog for making the cancelled flight in Frankfurt more tolerable. And thanks to all of you who have sent hugs and condolences via all the messages, emails and posts. They genuinely conveyed their messages and brought me strength in hard times.

Now? Well now there's simply a peaceful Saturday morning. Soon? Soon there will be the job hunt, moments of grieving, negotiations for temp work, signing up for Dutch class, returning to karate, and catching up with friends. A mixed bag.

Hopefully, every now and then, for a moment or two at a time, there will be more moments of peace.

Merry Christmas to all....

My apartment smells so much like Christmas that I keep expecting my mom to step into the living room at any moment. It's the turkey carcass boiling into soup that really makes the difference. And believe it or not, I really made the turkey.

Cooking the turkey is a bit of a special thing in North American culture. I think traditionally passed on from mothers to daughters, it can include great conflict when passed to a daughter-in-law. People outside or new to the family just don't know the right way to do it. Their stuffing is always wrong. Good, often delicious, but wrong.

Such are the mysterious ways of the turkey. Oh, and more so, the stuffing.

Men learn these things from books. It's written down in little formulas... so many minutes per pound for turkey A, given a maximum weight less than X and a stuffing_variable set to yes. Then you wait (ignoring time) until you get that rich "turkey almost burning" smell and you're done. Easy.

And delicous.

I hope everyone enjoyed celebrating the spirit of Christmas (eating too much with family/friends) as much as I did. Merry Christmas all.

What's Music Without Sound?

Nope, this isn't going to be deep. Just a little prayer of thanks. And since electronics were involved, what better way to pray then via the 'net?

Today wasn't a bad day. It wasn't particularly intense, but dense. Busy and constantly so. So when I got in from the office a few minutes early I felt no guilt about sitting for a moment and just enjoying the stereo. I picked a good song and decided to crank the volume.

It almost sounded good. But mostly it sounded, bad. My subwoofer wasn't working!

I would be an excellent writer if I could convey that moment of emotion when a bachelor thinks his stereo is broken. Alas, I can only tell you it was like heartbreak and pain and loss, with contempt and anger, and of course denial.

The Engineer inside awakes. " Huh? I thought we were done work. Wha? The stereo!?!"

Starting at the back end of the signal path, I checked the subwoofer. Checked its connection to the stereo. Checked the stereo. I checked the wires from the stereo that wrap 'round the room to the computer. Wiggle wiggle, check check.

There are three stereo-plugs from the receiver to the PC. I pulled the first one...

The front speakers died. I put the plug back. I pulled the second one...

The back speakers died. I put the plug back. I pulled the third one...

Nothing happened. It was the center-channel and subwoofer connection. The center-channel speaker wasn't in use and the sub wasn't booming, so no surprise so far. I put the plug back.

BOOM!

BOOM!

BOOM!

And my face had a smile on it.

I'm listening to the Beatles. Like I remember it with headphones, except this is my stereo simply with all the speakers working again. Life is good. One more problem solved.

Mostly A Good Week

That was a good week. I spent 3 nights/4 days away in Belgium to train NATO soldiers (mostly Air Force) on the intricit subtlties of my employer's software. The town of Mons is lovely to look at! So nice to walk through. So boring to stay in.

But the boring evenings were made up for three-fold by (1) Terry Pratchett, (2) French cuisine, and (4) uhm, (3) Belgian beer! The days needed no making up for. I was teaching people whom I very much enjoyed being with and working with. Lunches were always fun and class participation was high. I even got to attend a change of command parade and congratulate the new sector commander.

But amongst the enjoyable times, there was also a very sobering and nasty moment thanks to the BBC. Previously I was unaware of Omar Khadr, a Canadian citizen, who was visiting relatives in Afghanistan when it was invaded by the United States. On July 7th, 2002, U.S. soldiers attacked Omar's location... a "terrorist camp." He was the only person to survive (although gravely wounded) and arrested for the "murder" of the one U.S. soldier lost in the attack. Since that time, Omar has been held and tortured and has spent roughly 1/3 of his life now in Guantanamo Bay. A third? That's right, because Omar was only 15 years old when he was arrested.

Omar is the last Western citizen still in custody in Gitmo. Why?

Just incase Canadian Prime Minister Stephen Harper reads Blogger... let me state for the record that this makes me incredibly angry, ashamed, and quite frankly, left me feeling sick! Mr. Harper, I'm now feircely looking forward to voting against you! And I think this time around I'll do some campaigning around my expat communities, making sure Canadians are registered to vote. Until then, be warned that by writing this blog I've now informed my mother. You're in trouble mister!

The timing of this information was ironic. Just hours earlier I had stopped at an old palace in Grand Place (the town square) and read a plaque commemorating how Canadians liberated Belgium in the First World War. The last shots of the war were fired there, November 11th, 1918.

In happier news, Happy Birthday to the Ice Queen! July 17th was cellebrated the world over by people thankful to know her.

Inspite of a few rough patches in the middle, the training week went well. It ended on a good tone and included me staying on base a bit past class-time to enjoy some 1 Euro beers with the Comms guys. They were fun!

Finally home again, apparently for 4 weeks now, all I can say is that it is, of course, great to be back! 10 hours of sleep and a slow, quiet day have helped rejuvinate this old body. I'm hoping the clearing sky and improved weather will stay around while I head out tonight and rejuvinate the spirit. ;-)

Negative Energy

After a long period of nearly-manic positive energy there comes an energy low. But the resulting positive low is a time to relax. There's no guilt about "doing nothing" and the rest time feels well deserved.

And then there's negative energy. And after a long period of negative energy comes an energy low. But its a negative energy low. Never enough sleep. Always feeling restless. So much to do it plays on your mind while you should be sleeping.

Events have converged on me. No single event is significant, but it seems significant that everything that's happening feels like its happening to me. Taxes are the worst! I've been trying for a month to get my papers from the old accountant who was supposed to file my taxes. I've got only a couple weeks left to get them to a new accountant who shall file my taxes. And I'm traveling all this coming week.

I'm getting everything handled; it will all get done. But it just isn't going smoothly.

The town in Belgium (Mons) I'll be teaching in this week is all booked up. So no one hotel had rooms available each night I'll be gone. The old accountant has told his office staff to get my papers to me urgently. But only after 3 weeks of calls and emails and waiting. I've found a bunch of missing papers the landlord needed, but have now waited 1-1/2 months for the repayment she should have sent by now.

Am I writing this to complain? No way. I'm writing this now, because I can feel the end of it. A new cycle of positive energy is returning. I feel a lot more in control of "things" than just a few days ago. By next weekend I'll have papers delivered to my new accountant, I'll have finished a fun week of teaching, and the full moon will be welcoming me home with no travel scheduled for a month. Perfect!

Now if only I could figure out a way to keep the tax papers organized while still managing to vacuum and clean around them.

What Else Is New???

I wish I had spent more of last week smiling and relaxed. Clearly not all is perfect in the world today. But it's not so bad either. There have been two exciting new additions to my family, and I could brag about the shopping at great length!

First, congrats to my new baby cousin who escaped to the world last week. June 25th, 8 pounds, 3 ounces. Ouch! Babies are (of course) ugly little parasitic creatures, but this one has great eyes. And since I never have to babysit, I look forward to watching him turn into a person over subsequent trips.

The second new addition is a little more to my taste... a shiny new HP Laptop! Far quieter than a baby, but thanks to Winders Vista (XP I'll miss ya) it is only slightly less tempermental.

I left Holland with my personal laptop and a small idea of expanding it's memory and hard drive while away. Instead, I ended up with a dead machine who's parts couldn't be replaced due to their age. So I did the best I could and bought an emergency replacement. Yesterday I saw the same laptop advertised locally for just 799 Euros. I paid 599 dollars. That's 375 Euros or less than half. Not bad for a complex purchase decision made in <5 minutes.

They're not new, but I'm also happy to report I've been reunited with my skies, after seven years apart.

The week I decided I was moving the Europe I bought myself some new skies. That was the end of 2000. I used them that winter and once the next, but only in Canada. And they've been collecting dust in my parents' basement since then.

I felt foolish at the airport holding skies, but now I'll be able to plan a few Alpine ski weekends (in addition to the compulsary scuba-diving vacations.)

Indeed, everything in life right now is about looking to the future. There's lots of good work and work-travel coming up. There's diving to do, and concerts to see, and ski trips to plan with friends. And hopefully, just maybe, there'll be a little more time for blogging too.

At the top of my list of important things to do... a lot of dusting, and watching a few few nights worth of sappy movies. The dust has been building that last few weeks, and I could do with the a little dose of sappy.

I Do Feel Older...

I've had a lot of ideas passing through my head as the next potential blog post. There's so much! I wanted to describe the nazi rally in Germany (and the 10x bigger anti-nazi rally). I wanted to describe the trip to Germany (just for shopping... picture frames and a USB WiFi adaptor). I wanted to proclaim my enthusiasm for my upcoming (three days from now) trip to Canada, with Nancy!

And then I looked at my own blog. I read the title, and I knew the next. I do feel older! I remarked today that for the last few months "sitting" and "standing" again are painful activities. If I sit, I'll stay there a while, thank you. If I stand, I may as well stay standing for a bit.

I'm back on another exercise kick... hitting the weights as often as I can. "As often as I can" is a function (partly) of when the pain from the last session dies down. This time-frame is growing. A sure sign of age.

Does this mean I have to be more diligent about what I eat, and how I spend my free time? I think it does. I think it means I have to exercise better, sleep better, eat better.

I've never before actually considered the idea of being physically less capable than I previously was. But the little painful bits that I'm beginning to call "the day" are registering in my brain. Based on this new data, I humbly suggest a new variation of an old phrase...

"You're only as old as your knees feel."

Party Pics...

Okay, these are all stolen pictures, courtesy of Kryte. Thanks!

Clearly I have a problem. I need a bigger bed!

By midnight I was still able to recognize cameras.

But seriously, should I have invited men too???

More can be found at http://www.majta.se/Amsterdam_2/ Pictures 5 through 31 were taken at the party.

Party Day

Just hours to go, and the place is in chaos. Everything has a place and purpose, but nothing is there yet nor doing it yet. The groceries just arrived. I think I'm lacking juice. I could have sworn I intended to buy 3 orange juices but seem to have only one. And I still have to push aside the weights in the "fitness room" for party-goer overflow. Hopefully, any way.

I think I've thought of everything... for the party. It's about all I've been thinking about for days now. So is it any surprise, that aside from cheese and crackers I have no food to eat? Peanut butter and jam sammies for lunch. At least until the pizza place opens. And coffee, of course. I stopped at Starbucks last week and bought a selection of beans.

But now, there's a selection of coffee grindings sitting around the grinder. That and so much more needs to be attended to. Like vacuuming. The whole cleaning process started days ago with the vacuum cleaner. And today it will end with it. Everything has been moved and dusted and such, such that now it's time to clean the floor again.

There will be pictures afterwards. For now, the recycling must go out, it's using half-a-guest worth of space. Then, a thousand other tasks to prepare before my nice Saturday night at home. ;-)

Party Update

Hosting is fun! It really is. I never used to think that, but past friends have taught me how to organize a party. I've taken their teachings, adding in a bit of process engineering, and I think I have the plans for a party that runs itself.

I see myself cleaning glasses a few times through the night... but that should be it.

Adam loves to bake, and I'm afraid of ovens, so he's volunteered to put fresh french bread in the oven every hour or two. (They sell semi-baked bread here.) And he's offered to bake a batch of his (from scratch) brownies. My apartment is going to smell incredible!

The beer is sourced and cooled. The fridge is full. There's some air space in there, but I don't think the shelves can take the weight of another row of bottles. And the three spare cases (cooling) on the balcony are sorted so that each case contains a mix of the three beer varieties. Grolsch, Heineken and Brand will all be available all night.

The liquor stock in the bar would make a Kennedy proud. (Mental note, need more mix.)

Music will play when ever diving videos aren't. And anyone will be welcome to select the next song from the list of thousands available.

Last weekend I spent a bit on chairs. Nice ones! But I'm expecting mostly standing. Especially around the dining room table which will be packed with foods and drink.

Down the hall the bathroom and water closet are spotless. It took until 10pm last night, but every inch is shiny and clean. (Totally opposite to Sunday morning no doubt.) And I'll be leaving the bucket and cleaning supplies near by. "Accidents happen. There's the bucket, clean it up."

I'm very excited by how many people are coming! I really hope everyone has as much fun partying as I'm having planning. My only last concern... does anyone know where you can buy ice in Holland???

T-Minus Eight Days and I'm Getting Excited!

I don't throw many parties. So far, I've had two. But they were both really a lot of fun! And so I'm getting really excited that my next party is only eight days away.

In preparation I've just tried grocery shopping over the web for the first time. Albert Hein, the Dutch grocery monopoly, has a thuisbezord (home delivery) service. My 8 cases of beer, 7 bottles of wine, and 8 litres of cola will be delivered tomorrow between 11am and 1pm! And all delivered for a scant 7 Euros.

Considering the alternative is to make approximately 5 heavily laden trips to the local store 1km away, seven euros is nothing!

Next week I'll go for the walk and pick up a selection of cheeses, crackers, chips and such. But for now the idea of someone bringing 160 kg of beer to my door tickles me!

But the liquids are by no means the bulk of the planning. I'm convinced that an inexperienced host could invite a hundred people and get ten. So chasing and following up with all my friends to get their RSVP information is important. And so far people are enthusiastic. Indeed, I think I've had more people added to the invite list than those who have said they can't attend.

I suppose that means my next problem is chairs. So far I own, one. I can either devise a time sharing system so that each of the 50 guests gets a chance to sit, or I can take this week and borrow a lot of chairs.

If you see me in the city this week, I'll probably be walking around cafes saying things like," Pardon me, is this chair free?"

Amsterdam at 2am

I had drinks tonight with my friend then started walking home. I stopped in at a place and met an effeminent African-French tourist and a man of unknown origin and name (aka Mr. Thatsnotimportant). Quite possibly some kind of cult/terrorist recruiter. As I walked home from the experience I thought," Damn I missed this place!"

I missed my long walk home, the beautiful buildings and the freaky people all around. What ever you think, it's ok to talk about here.

There's a lot I didn't say in the US. There were unfair dichotomies in Brazil that frightened me. But in Amsterdam it's all good.

On the way home, I met this couple. The site said it all to me. Amsterdam at midnight is pretty cool, but Amsterdam at 2am is cooler.

I'm glad to be, a few paces from, home.

Too Funny!

Too funny! The hardware store next to my home left a wooden pallet leaning against a wall where it was discovered by a roving gang of boys (aged 6-8). The oldest boy spotted a weak board and with one kick put his foot through it. His friend, highly impressed, tried also but the other boards were solid. Suddenly all four swarmed! Two to a board they kicked and bounced and attacked. After only a minute the pallet was a deceased, former pallet.

But the part that made me laugh out loud (really quite loud) was when some adults came walking wast. The youngest spun round, took two steps away, and started throwing his tennisball into the air.

*looks nonchalant* "It wasn't me"

Happy, Happy, Home and Hyper!

I hardly know where to begin! I'm just so happy to be home, and I have to lay the blame squarely on the fact that I slept on the plane!

Thirty-nine is the magic number. All of the previous thirty-eight trips across the Atlantic Ocean were 100.00% sleep free. But last night (wow, I actually feel like it was "last night" and not "earlier today") a number of factors came together to give me sleep. Real sleep. Heavily interrupted but a total of at least five hours of it.

So last night I got on a plane, and today I arrived home. It's never felt like that before.

We landed without incident on a cool, calm, sunny day. Or at least a sunny break in the weather. Greeted by blue sky and brightish light. (Well, it is Holland.) Everything has come together to leave me filled with energy! Never mind the freshly ground Starbucks Nariño Supremo, the cool air, and the always present joy of simply returning home from a trip. I'm hyper. Happy, happy, home and hyper!

Sundays are for home

I'd probably enjoy walking the city of Sao Paulo. The other day Joao, a friend/coworker, told me about the mall, where the Starbucks was, etc. I Google-Earthed (it's a verb now) the locations and realized they were a short walk. But when I pointed out how close these attractions were I got a stern warning not to attempt to walk there!

I spent yesterday in a car tour of the city. I'm not going to pay a taxi to take me from place to place just for the sake of being somewhere else. So today is a quiet day in the hotel. A quiet, boring, introspective day.

When I saw the meme that OC & the Quill had participated in, I knew exactly what I wanted my bottle to say.


I'm going to follow OC's lead and say "consider yourself tagged if you'd like to play".

_________
Update: As always, exercise helps soothe the mind. The warm sun and the cold pool helped a lot too!