tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-44802185917477223142024-02-19T14:31:17.014-08:00A Billion Civilianstrying to make a connectionBrett http://www.blogger.com/profile/10632343649661747519noreply@blogger.comBlogger246125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4480218591747722314.post-16980720114743413682020-10-30T14:02:00.000-07:002020-10-30T14:02:03.515-07:00In the middle of the day<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2mcotf-lW1-rfJauS-6_6PoA6g6y6qXvLzF1I6F9iOwozjJVVk0x8r980eeTzkHbNon9kXNE2mwYmdCDhvl6NCFCeMxnIEjKeo6c6ZgQklphT5lYMJUVBg3pmWOuY5YyngkrtoC0-YNo/s1200/in+the+middle+of+the+day.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="900" height="517" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2mcotf-lW1-rfJauS-6_6PoA6g6y6qXvLzF1I6F9iOwozjJVVk0x8r980eeTzkHbNon9kXNE2mwYmdCDhvl6NCFCeMxnIEjKeo6c6ZgQklphT5lYMJUVBg3pmWOuY5YyngkrtoC0-YNo/w388-h517/in+the+middle+of+the+day.jpg" width="388" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p></p>Brett http://www.blogger.com/profile/10632343649661747519noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4480218591747722314.post-69047481954141990672020-04-15T09:38:00.003-07:002020-04-24T12:56:11.536-07:00Letters - Poem<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: cambria; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="background-color: #f3f3f3; font-size: 12pt;">My head has been stuffed with clouds and airy things</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="background-color: #f3f3f3;">They float around in there, not weighing me down as much as making it difficult to see.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="background-color: #f3f3f3;">I try to wave it away, to shoo it out like a deadly wasp, or maybe a drunken bee.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="background-color: #f3f3f3;">I’ve tried to capture them, like sucking them up into a vacuum and disposing them into a safer place in my mind. I’ve placed them in the back somewhere.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="background-color: #f3f3f3;">Yet the wind has it’s way of breathing it all into yet another mess. It’s all scrapes and papers floating around the air, becoming stealth vessels on their own, independent missions.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="background-color: #f3f3f3;">It all scatters, kicked up when I lay my head down. In different ways I’ve looked for an equalizer. I thick layer of alcohol would do the trick. But my eyes get sleepy after 3, and my bladder lets me know this isn’t what I thought it would be.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="background-color: #f3f3f3;">I’ve tried to build a bridge through the mist, to escape. But the project was never completed. It stands there, jutting out from my mind, with boards and drawings strewn about the site.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="background-color: #f3f3f3;">The harvest was plentiful, but the workers were few. Some tried hard. They really did. Others were too distracted by the liquor store down at the bottom of the hill.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="background-color: #f3f3f3;">It still stands.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="background-color: #f3f3f3;">Like a half assembled dinosaur skeleton, from a billion years ago.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="background-color: #f3f3f3;">When things were different.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="background-color: #f3f3f3;">When I was writing you letters.</span></div>
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Brett http://www.blogger.com/profile/10632343649661747519noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4480218591747722314.post-46169808387999033842020-04-15T09:37:00.001-07:002020-04-15T09:37:31.855-07:00InsideYesterday, while holding my little guy River, I realized another amazing thing about babies. They are like little sponges, soaking up information left and right. It's all brand new, and you can almost see their "live action" processors holding new details.<br />
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I held a toy in front of him, and when it got his attention he focused in. His eyes glared into the stuffy, his brain, no doubt, cranking the gears, trying to make sense of this new thing. What I realized that day is that when he interacts with another person, and not just a toy, things are completely different.<br />
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The really neat thing is that babies have an immediate sense of how to interact with us. They don't look at our mouths or are hands. They're not aimlessly searching for clues.<br />
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They go straight to the eyes.<br />
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River makes contact with my eyes, looking for what's in there. When I smile, he recognizes it, and smiles back, assured that he is experiencing a familiar and safe face. The neurotransmitters are humming away, digging into the groove that will turn out to be the "dad is a safe person" pathway.<br />
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It's all so neat because it seems innate. They don't learn to look in your eyes. Once their eyes grow enough to work, they immediately start focusing in on everything around them. And again, when there is a person in their space, they go directly for their eyes. It's really neat.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsMbwxnqPj7r9QgLbJMWvbc2GoizytGGh2rE3-Z-awN74PKKBlpias-VCT7SN27iwFHtvsQo-zuAIZBjC3YnnntAeYAF9w7RtfqdvCEwqIeMH2pFWqFGcCwXrimAWg_T8uUufsq3jyYNQ/s1600/IMG_8225.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsMbwxnqPj7r9QgLbJMWvbc2GoizytGGh2rE3-Z-awN74PKKBlpias-VCT7SN27iwFHtvsQo-zuAIZBjC3YnnntAeYAF9w7RtfqdvCEwqIeMH2pFWqFGcCwXrimAWg_T8uUufsq3jyYNQ/s320/IMG_8225.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />Brett http://www.blogger.com/profile/10632343649661747519noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4480218591747722314.post-4559263126728146112020-02-20T17:45:00.001-08:002020-02-20T17:46:23.550-08:00Simple ways to simplify my lifeToday I found out that the little stickers on fruit are not compostable.<br />
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They are non toxic and do not harm the process, but they remain as foreign plastics that disrupt the beautiful process. Most large operations have standards that would reject a giant truck of rotting pears because of those little stickers. It's very sad.<br />
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Read more about it <a href="https://www.cbc.ca/news/technology/what-on-earth-newsletter-fruit-stickers-climate-change-1.5462794">here</a>.<br />
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This little tidbit comes at a time when I have been trying to seriously rethink the way that I impact my environment. Not only that, but I will also say that I am searching for ways from trying to limit the ways my environment impacts me.<br />
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Here's what I've been able to do thus far:<br />
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<b>TV Toss</b></div>
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Our family have flushed $68 a month into Satellite tv for the last several years. We used that to mostly watch home renovation shows and the Oilers lose. After the Super Bowl, we said goodbye to that burden. Will I miss watching sports? For sure. However, there were so many little things about it (money, time, lame sports teams, too much tv) that completely outweigh my love for the Oilers.<br />
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To be clearer, those little things outweigh my Oiler love by a country mile! And I've always known it, and only now do I face it and do something about it. $68 was a waste in so many ways, and now the tough decision has been made and peace can move in.<br />
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Bring on a moderate amount of Netflix and DVD viewing!<br />
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<b>Clothing Snob</b></div>
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I made a decision a while back to stop purchasing new clothing. The world is overrun with too much clothing. There are storehouses being built to hold unused clothing, yet factories continue to pump it all out. Clothing is being sold and shipped to other countries, only to be <a href="https://www.cbc.ca/news/business/clothes-recycling-marketplace-1.4493490">tossed or burned</a>. Again, it's all such a waste.<br />
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So what that means is, first of all, I already have a lot of clothes. I don't need to buy too many items, and since my workplace is casual, I don't have to worry about snazzing myself up too often.<br />
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Secondly, when I buy clothes, I go to second hand stores. They have so much. It's all better than any eco-friendly made clothing because it's already been made!<br />
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Note: I will still buy new shoes because used ones are often too used and really sketchy to put on my feet.<br />
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<b>Facebook and Twitter Trash</b></div>
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I'm off of both Facebook and Twitter. The Irony is that both of those platforms would help me promote this blog.</div>
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Twitter was eating me alive. Too much scrolling. Too much information about Trump or Fake news or Police brutality. Too much Oiler negativity. It was addicting and it drove my anxiety over the edge a few times. </div>
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Now I try to purposely read the news. Intentionally, for about 10 to 15 minutes every other day, I'll read the headlines. My go to is cbc.ca. </div>
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I think everyone I know should drop a social platform. Cut it off at the root and see how you feel for a while after. If you really need it, just sign up again. </div>
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For me, it's been a big help in helping me control what I am viewing online. That power is underrated, and very rare these days.</div>
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I'm still on Facebook for my work account, and it is a trash show on there, for sure. Yet, I don't know most of the people on there, so it has less of an impact on my soul.<br />
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Other areas that I'd love to put a dent in:<br />
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<ul>
<li>Computer Screen impact on my eyes. (I use it a lot for work)</li>
<li>Peanut butter (I eat it every morning. I've got the natural stuff, but I think every morning is too much).</li>
<li>Coffee (I drink way too much coffee even though I don't really enjoy it beyond the second or third cup).</li>
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<b>Additions</b></div>
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It's easier to take things away when you have something to replace it with. Here are a few practical ways I have filled some of the empty space.</div>
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<ul>
<li>Meditation. Even emptier space! I used the Centering Prayer App and go for anywhere between 5 to 10 minutes 2 or 3 times a week. It is really hard, but I love the challenge.</li>
<li>Reading. My goal this year is to read 50 books. That includes a whole pile of graphic novels. So far I have read 7 books. I get all of these books from mainly the Barrhead Public Library or from a thrift store. Saving money left and right!</li>
<li>Drawing. I started drawing in December. A little bit every day. It is super fun.</li>
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I plan on adding a lot more once the weather gets nicer. This spring is when I get to put my garden together. I am really looking forward to that.</div>
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I will run with my dog way more often. It's one of my favourite things to do when it's not so dark and cold outside.</div>
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I also am working hard on connecting with people. As an extreme introvert, I love being at home. I could just stay there forever. Yet, I need to connect with people to show them that they mean a lot to me. So I am planning lots of ways to be present in social gatherings and not just wish I was out of there.</div>
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Life is flying by at the same pace for all of us. Some of us are a little older than others, and for me, I really feel that this is the time to be thinking about what really matters to me, my people, and my environment. These rhythms are so important to me and the person I want to be. </div>
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I encourage you to find a pace that works for you. Find space that fills you up more than it drains you out. Little by little, the changes will come, the people around you will be blessed, and your life will begin to glow a little brighter.</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjekaYJPevRq6VIXvd3ODjGKVV1K3_jngF7YyOJlAdv10plNbGOrFJk_BoHhdR_ZJ9WzGczQ1mvzS9I-vW5B6k6twALC3JVR_twbGv0GoRo5jr78ByzExk1QDJjBopnK9G7JnhaC1DxkhQ/s1600/49523496373_f3f38ffbdb_c.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="798" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjekaYJPevRq6VIXvd3ODjGKVV1K3_jngF7YyOJlAdv10plNbGOrFJk_BoHhdR_ZJ9WzGczQ1mvzS9I-vW5B6k6twALC3JVR_twbGv0GoRo5jr78ByzExk1QDJjBopnK9G7JnhaC1DxkhQ/s320/49523496373_f3f38ffbdb_c.jpg" width="319" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This drawing is called "Chap"</td></tr>
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<br />Brett http://www.blogger.com/profile/10632343649661747519noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4480218591747722314.post-71036699726283356182020-01-20T08:29:00.002-08:002020-01-20T08:29:56.308-08:001200I started my <i>running career</i> on January 1, 2015. Over that Christmas season I had tipped the scales up to 240 pounds. I was feeling pretty blah about that, and really wanted to put some good work into my body.<br />
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I read a book called Finding Ultra by <a href="https://www.richroll.com/">Rich Roll </a>and was inspired by his similar realization. After being a competitive swimmer in his younger years, Rich noticed himself struggling to make it up the stairs in his house at 38 years old. He changed his habits, including going full Plant Power, and has been in great shape, and ultra running shape, ever since.<br />
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In May, I will turn 39. 5 years ago, I hoped that by now I would be continuing on a path towards great fitness, with the short term goal of completing a marathon in under 4 hours. Since then I have ran a lot, including 2 marathons, but my body just wasn't up to the task of breaking 4 hours.<br />
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I've enjoyed the schedule of running. It has given be consistent movement, which has pumped my blood thoroughly through my body, and made me genuinely feel better. After a run, I come home on the high, and all of the good in me rises to the surface. And it lasts most of the day. It really is incredible.<br />
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As it has been 5 years of running, I can say that 2019 was my least productive year at it yet. I've gained back weight, up from 210 to 225. I have a million lame excuses, including a finicky leg that keeps nagging me, a new home to keep an eye on, plus a new baby to play with. <br />
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It's been a busy year, and if I lie to myself I can justify my off year as being just that. However, the truth is that I know I can run. I know that it makes me a better person. I know it makes me feel good inside and out.<br />
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Without a plan, I have no vision. So this year, my plan is to complete 1200 kilometres of training. Along with that, I will incorporate some strength training for my legs and core. I went to physio this past year and they gave me some good exercises to help my achy legs. Plus, when I run more, my legs feel better, so I'll just go with that strategy and see where it takes me.<br />
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So far I am up to 21 k, which is good with me since it's been minus a million for a good 2 weeks now.<br />
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Rich Roll is inspiring to me. He has a podcast where he welcomes guests from all sorts of backgrounds to chat about life, and goodness, and community. He is also eager to learn. He's 53 and still going strong!<br />
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What or who inspires you?<br />
<br />
Thanks for reading<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZWJGs9gmHqxd-1KfXyMvmGwb6xLk1lS6oL56HfbONB7f0gdRqEdMFl-USNgovy1ZO4wUFMiBz8Q6GfKyyblPWQMHCEcj-F_bTReI3uLdqINESiI76UVRn5TU5Zzz1IIt-ZRGbi8tsj0g/s1600/IMG_6993.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZWJGs9gmHqxd-1KfXyMvmGwb6xLk1lS6oL56HfbONB7f0gdRqEdMFl-USNgovy1ZO4wUFMiBz8Q6GfKyyblPWQMHCEcj-F_bTReI3uLdqINESiI76UVRn5TU5Zzz1IIt-ZRGbi8tsj0g/s320/IMG_6993.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />Brett http://www.blogger.com/profile/10632343649661747519noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4480218591747722314.post-6936903939817783012019-12-04T13:49:00.000-08:002019-12-05T08:54:04.657-08:00RivIt's been a while since I've changed a diaper. My wife does it for a living in her Day Home.<br />
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Yet here I am, tossing legs, wiping up messes, and fastening up nice little cozy containers over my new son's lower area. Even though it's been 10 years, it all comes back to me. Like riding a bike.<br />
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Little River was born almost 7 weeks ago. God help him but I've been scolding him for being so handsome. I say "where did you get those handsomes from?" The next day wagging my finger at him, I'll say, "How many more handsomes are in there? Two?! Three?!" He has yet to respond.<br />
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My little guy has been pretty fussy, compared to his big brothers. At least, that's how we remember it. This little guy has a combination of rituals, a routine that unlocks the sleepy lands. We've got him jiggled, shushed, and cuddled. Once he goes through 2 or 3 crying cycles he finally hits the sleeping sweet spot and then we can put him down in his little crib.<br />
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His crib is sort of like the Ferrari of cribs. It shifts and bobs on 4 or 5 different settings. It has a whole section of white noise sounds. Once River is set up in his ride, he'll usually good to sleep for anywhere from 10 to 45 minutes. That's where we're at right now.<br />
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Overall, as a new dad again, I think this time I can really settle in to enjoy things a bit more. When Miles was born, it broke my heart every time he cried his little tears. With River, I can't help but laugh and console him as best as I can. I am way more laid back in that way.<br />
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Jonas loves spending time with River. He holds him all the time. Atll the time, that is, until he gets "too hot", at which point, he is passed on to me. But Jonas loves looking at him and he thinks he's funny and cute.<br />
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Miles doesn't like holding River. He'd rather read a book. However, he does show love to him. He also thinks River does some pretty neat things. He noted that River's cry sometimes starts off like a cat's meow. Since Miles likes cats, I expected him to make that comment. You can see it in Miles' eyes that he is pretty content and intrigued to have a much littler brother around.<br />
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Obviously, the hero of this story is Barbara. She's seen a ton of babies and has had a heart for each and every one that comes across her care. Yet it is neat to see the deeper, and more vivid love she shows to River. She's spent every waking and sleeping hour next to the little guy, and because of the way she is, she still responds to his little actions with surprise and joy. As if he were new each and every day. And I guess it's sort of true that he is a newer version of himself each day.<br />
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Last week, while I was holding him, she said, "I love it when other people hold him because then I can look at him more."<br />
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These are the thoughts for now. It's been a lot of work and a whole lot of fun having this new guy around.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRxwN_jVN_qp9qmmOtZiwdO4SP3E6Mp25tFbvuE3TXM-pybJyUbDcWJKgGinsSkHnvXjkvNNRsx_lihbmVll202Ts-8i4KS-ZmN7io3mkvCUj460eGwoUAQwqvqmYckPad_GScxtNylLs/s1600/Riv.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1222" data-original-width="1222" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRxwN_jVN_qp9qmmOtZiwdO4SP3E6Mp25tFbvuE3TXM-pybJyUbDcWJKgGinsSkHnvXjkvNNRsx_lihbmVll202Ts-8i4KS-ZmN7io3mkvCUj460eGwoUAQwqvqmYckPad_GScxtNylLs/s320/Riv.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Riv with big brother Jonas</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />Brett http://www.blogger.com/profile/10632343649661747519noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4480218591747722314.post-49963339909192658752019-11-04T14:56:00.000-08:002019-11-04T14:56:19.575-08:00And... we're back!I haven't posted on here in almost 2 and a half years. The thing is that I moved over to brettgitzel.com, and thus spent money on a blog basically just to have it named after myself.<br />
<br />
Turns out, that wasn't the wisest financial decision. Instead of continuing to spend money on posting my thoughts, I figured I could just continue posting them up on here for free.<br />
<br />
With that, I will give you the thought of the day...<br />
<br />
Halloween as come and gone. This year I never got around to dressing up. Instead, I enjoyed living the fun out through my 2 older boys. They love dressing up. They love everything that comes with Halloween.<br />
<br />
I also ate a lot of their chocolate bars. Too many, but only once a year, so in moderation.<br />
<br />
I once heard someone say something profound about Halloween. I will butcher the quote, but basically it goes, "Halloween is the only day of the year when people get to be who they really want to be. It's the only day of the year when they don't wear a mask."<br />
<br />
Since hearing it, I've thought of that quote every year. So, thought for the day...<br />
<br />
What's my mask? What do I wear that keeps me hidden from others?<br />
<br />
For me, I hide behind a lot of masks. We all do. And, I guess, having that realization is the first step towards dealing with it. Declaring that you need to deal with it is probably the second step. That's sort of where I'm at.<br />
<br />
The main mask I can think of is a thin, yet solid layer that covers the surface of my face. It keeps me shallow, and surface-levelled. Of course, this is a societal mask, but the fact that I've given in to it and made it a foundation in my own life is what I have to live with. <br />
<br />
The ideal way to break out of this would be to gather together with others and carve out some time to talk about what's underneath. <br />
<br />
This past weekend I was able to have 3 genuinely real conversations with people. We sat down, and we talked about life, and goodness, and what God might be like. It was all very beautiful. <br />
<br />
I encourage all who read this to delve into removing a mask or two. We all got 'em, but we don't need 'em.<br />
<br />
peace. BrettBrett http://www.blogger.com/profile/10632343649661747519noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4480218591747722314.post-89891516946600953892017-03-02T13:26:00.005-08:002017-03-02T13:26:58.930-08:00Follow the New MeHey all.<br />
<br />
I know that some of you enjoy some of my thoughts here. <br />
<br />
I've shifted over to <a href="http://www.brettgitzel.com/">brettgitzel.com</a><br />
<br />
The way to follow along over there is to read one of my posts and then comment on it. <br />
<br />
Under the comment box you can click to have email notifications of new posts I put up!<br />
<br />
Over there it's much of the same stuff. I blog about my day, like most bloggers, and thoughts, like most wanna be artists, and my running hobby, which is awesome, challenging and fulfilling in many ways.<br />
<br />
Also, all of the kids stories I'm working on are over there.<br />
<br />
I also write poems about my wife.<br />
<br />
So head on over and follow along!Brett http://www.blogger.com/profile/10632343649661747519noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4480218591747722314.post-48546895948426713982017-01-11T15:50:00.001-08:002017-01-11T15:50:19.865-08:00New Blog!Hello Faithful Followers,<br />
<br />
I have a new blog. It's up at brettgitzel.com. <br />
<br />
I'm kicking it up a couple notches, so fasten your hatches and batten down the seat belts.<br />
<br />
I have transferred some of my favorite posts from this site, as well as categorized them.<br />
<br />
Swing on by. You can subscribe over there instead. It'll be worth it, I promise.<br />
<br />
BrettBrett http://www.blogger.com/profile/10632343649661747519noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4480218591747722314.post-43885125026554674732016-11-14T15:00:00.000-08:002016-11-14T15:23:55.561-08:00Couchland: Part 2<div class="MsoNormal">
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">In case you've missed/forgotten part one, <a href="http://abillioncivilians.blogspot.ca/2016/06/couchland.html">here it is</a>.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">And now, for the conclusion of Couchland...</span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">note: sorry the format is messed up at times. No idea how to fix it at the moment. In the process of leaving Blogger as it no longer updates its mobile app, which is another story. A different story than the exciting conclusion of...</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5PTWxFgaXF306naN4vqgTjBbl-oz1epxZFJhB3s_dJXKcCskJQ88q7BJLRKwIl47zdoO3mYMa1YvKONZInJ0VZGufILeqIUOxUhbq2DK8ptP9q65l_TOxWuAh7hbwI2zyBFhphtWXUaw/s1600/couchland2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5PTWxFgaXF306naN4vqgTjBbl-oz1epxZFJhB3s_dJXKcCskJQ88q7BJLRKwIl47zdoO3mYMa1YvKONZInJ0VZGufILeqIUOxUhbq2DK8ptP9q65l_TOxWuAh7hbwI2zyBFhphtWXUaw/s320/couchland2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">Jimmy's mom finished tying the rope in a double knot around his ankle.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
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<br /></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;">
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">"Are you sure you want to do this, Jimmy?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
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<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium;">
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">"No doubt in my mind, mom. No doubt in my mind."</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">Jimmy was having a bad
day. Earlier in the day his neighbour had hooked him with a fishing rod
and tossed him out of the mysterious Couchland world; the place where his Dad
had been sneaking off to relax while he was stuck at home with the chores.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">Jimmy still had the
taste of the stale cheese-o in his mouth. His mom had tied to rope around
his ankle and he was ready to dive back in to Couchland. The only thing he
needed now was for the door to open.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">He had tried every
button on the remote control, but the door to Couchland would not open.
He sat there on the couch, shifting and turning to try to squeeze himself
down into the couch. No matter what he did, he could not get through
to Couchland.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">Frustrated, he fell down
on the floor and threw the remote on the couch next to his mom. She
turned the channel to her favourite show, Kitchen Killers. It's a show where a
bunch of chefs cook meals really fast, then they all setup explosives and blow
the place to smithereens. It was pretty cool, but now it was on a
commercial about sports. A man in a shirt and tie spoke into the camera.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">"I'm Roddy Hotrod and
this weekend it's all about sports. Sports! Sports! Sports! Turn on
your T.V. and turn it to sports...<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">If you're not sporting
this weekend then you better have a good excuse because sportsy sports sports
sports..."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">The commercial was distracting
Jimmy. He needed to think of a way to get the couch to open. He
needed a way to get that remote to work.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
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<br /></div>
</div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">"Sports, sports,
sports... This weekend... Turn it to sports, orts, orts…"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">The commercial was
ending and still Jimmy couldn't think of what he needed to do to get the remote
to work."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
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<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">"I'm Roddy Hotrod,
and this weekend if nothing else works... turn it to sports!"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">"That's it!"
Jimmy jumped up and turned the channel to golf. He pressed the button on
the remote and the couch started up like a vacuum. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">He looked at his mom and
she gave him a big hug. "You go get that dad of yours and I'll make
a mess of things here to give him lots of work to do when he gets back."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">She held firmly onto one
end of the rope and with the other end tied to his ankle, he dove towards the
couch.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">Just when he thought
he'd hit his head again, the cushion gave way, like sinking into a big bowl of
oatmeal. He slowly seeped into darkness. Then, the feeling started
to smooth out as the slide began to form below him. Down, down, he went.
He could see the trees, the forests, and the lazy, lazy dads of the
world.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">At last he fell off at
the bottom onto the cushy cushions. He got up to see a crowd had gathered
around him. Dads everywhere! They stood there, smiling at Jimmy,
holding their fishing rods and their beers. Jimmy's dad poked his head
out from the crowd. He had sweat on his forehead and looked a little
unsure of himself.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
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<br /></div>
</div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">“Heh, um... Hi, buddy!
Thought I told you to wait for me back at home."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
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<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">"I'm here to bring
you back, Dad. You know that this is not where you're supposed to
be."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
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<br /></div>
</div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">A large murmur rose from
the crowd. Dad's everywhere spoke up.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
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<br /></div>
</div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">"Yo, kid.
What do you know, huh?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
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<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">"Yeah, mind your
bees wax, pal."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
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<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">Jimmy's dad chimed in.
"Hey fellas, don't talk to my boy that way."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
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<br /></div>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">Jimmy could see the
conflict spinning its wheels inside his father's mind. It was clear that
he didn't want people to disrespect his kid, but on the other hand, he was
having a good time fly fishing and he didn't want Jimmy to spoil it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
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<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">"Jimmy, come
here." His father walked over and threw his arm around Jimmy,
motioning for all of the other dads to scatter. Soon enough, they were
alone.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">"Now Jimmy, you
need to understand something. Couchland is bigger than you and me. Couchland has
been around for a thousand years. Powerful people have worked hard to
keep this place a secret and I'm sure that they wouldn't want you to be
sniffing around causing... um, problems for them."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
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<br /></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">Just then, they heard a
sound coming from the distance, beyond the trees and ponds. A great wind
rose from the distant mountains, bending around the trees and over the waters.
There appeared, hovering overheard, 3 giant hammocks. They just
floated in the air, not attached to a tree or anything else.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
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<br /></div>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">They slowly drifted down
in front of Jimmy and his Dad. Each hammock carried a man, laying back,
sipping on a drink, with his legs crossed. Down they came, landing on
what seemed to be an invisible fluffy surface just 2 feet above the ground.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">Each man, in his own
way, rolled off of the hammocks and stood upright before Jimmy and his nervous
looking father.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
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<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">"Greetings, young
one. It has been many year since we have seen someone of your age here in
the wonderful Land of Couch." The middle one, a rather slim and tall
looking chap, spoke. He wore flip-flops, old, comfy looking jeans, and a
t-shirt that read 'world's best dad'.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">"We understand that
you are unhappy with how we do things around here. We would like to offer
you a complete tour of our world."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">Jimmy couldn't figure
out how they knew he was in Couchland, or that he was upset. It was
as if they had been spying on him somehow. Things were getting very
strange, and Jimmy realized that this extraction was going to be
a lot more difficult than he originally thought.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">"What da' ya say, Kid?"
A chubbier version of the first man now spoke.
He sported shaggy hair, pink sunglasses and
a muscle shirt with the words "Sometimes Dad's
Just Gotta Kick Back". The third man
was wearing a suit, a black suit with
a dark navy tie. He was quiet and
didn't say anything, though Jimmy was smart and
could tell that just because the
man wasn't saying anything doesn't mean he wasn't paying attention.
He seemed to be doing a lot of observing.
There seemed to be a
clear expression of concern written on his face.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">"Um, yeah.
Okay, I would love to see this place. The <i>whole</i> place, right?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">Skinny guy spoke.
"Yeah, of course! Let's go!" The
man whistled and</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">at once 2 more hammocks arrived out of
the sky, ready to take Jimmy and his dad along with
the 3 men.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">Off they went.
Jimmy enjoyed the fresh, clean air of Couchland, though at times he
could still detect the faint smell of his
favourite spot on the couch.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">The sun was high in
the sky, lighting the vast valleys and hills that
seemed to stretch on forever. As they flew, Jimmy
could see thousands and thousands of dads. Dads
everywhere. Dads grilling burgers,
dads playing video games, dads drinking beer, and
dads doing... yoga? "Well, okay." thought Jimmy.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">Yet the most popular activity by far was taking place
on what appeared to be
the most beautiful and forgiving golf course that
had ever existed. It</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">had long fairways and smooth greens.
Yet, upon closer inspection, each fairway seemed
to be tilted and slanted in a way.
Not unlike a great, big funnel. Sure enough,
Jimmy watched as a man teed off.
The ball sailed wide of
the fairway and landed well off course.
Yet, wait a minute! What was this?! The ball started rolling.
Rolling back toward the fairway, down
the fairway. It rolled for over 200 yards! It
rolled right up on to the green.
It took a left turn and rolled straight for
the hole. Down it went! Hole in one! The man and
his friends high fived and chest bumped each other
as if they were celebrating a great athletic achievement.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">"Those turkeys!" shouted Jimmy.
"They're even cheating at having fun?!
What sort of place is this?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">"This is a place
of rest and relaxation," shouted the thin dad.
"These Fathers need their "me" time. They
need a place where the cards aren't stacked against them.
A place where their ball can get
a lucky bounce now and then. That's all."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">"Oh, phooey!
You guys know good and well that this place is a
big waste of time. That there are
people, mothers and kids, waiting on the
other side for these dads
to 'man up' and take care of
their responsibilities."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">Suddenly, all of the
hammocks came to an abrupt stop. The
3 men circled their hammocks
and conversed with each other. Jimmy's dad
looked worried. Jimmy was mad and he
didn't care what these men were discussing.
He didn't care one bit if
they decided to shoot his
hammock straight through the sky and back up into
his living room. He wanted nothing to do with this
lazy place and these lazy people.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">"Come on, Dad.
These people are hacks! They should not be
here. This place should not be here. It's
a nightmare."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">His dad
seemed speechless. He just sat there in his hammock, with
a look that seemed
to anticipate some pretty serious ramifications for screwing up
and letting Jimmy get in to Couchland.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">"Listen,
Jimmy." His dad whispered.
"These guys are serious business. I know
I shouldn't be here this much, but they force me
to."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">Jimmy glared at
him, not believing one word.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">"Okay, maybe they
don't force me but... they, um, they have this power over
me. I don't know what it is. I know I should do my
chores, but when they come around I always find myself with
the remote in my hand. I... I..." He broke down.
"I'm so weak, Jimmy. You gotta help me!
Get me outta here, Jimmy!"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">Jimmy felt pity for
his dad. His sad, little dad. And just as he
was conjuring up an escape plan, the
3 men floated over.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">"Jimmy."
It was the man in the suit who spoke this time.
"We understand your frustration. We want
to let you know
that we've decided that we'd like you
to take part in Couchland as well."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">Jimmy didn't know what
to say.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">"We know that you
work hard, too.
And we've decided to let you in on a little
secret. The man held up a shiny, black remote control and
pressed its big red button.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">All at once,
the hills and mountains dropped out of the sky, like a
big curtain being dropped from a magic trick.
Jimmy couldn't believe what he saw.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">It was
a whole other world! A world full of people, but not
dads this time. No, this world was filled with kids!
Kids just like Jimmy!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">"Jimmy, may I present to
you... Screenland!"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">They all floated over
into this new world, leaving the dads and
their silly golf behind. Now things were serious.
In Screenland there were screens everywhere!
For starters, each child had their very
own tablet. In fact, each child had their very
own go-cart that they used their tablets to control.
Kids raced everywhere. Left and right,
go-carts zoomed around the open space.
Some kids raced each other,
other kids seemed to have their go-carts on autopilot.
Yes, it was true!
He saw kids coasting around in
their carts, yet playing a completely different game on
their tablet.
And at times, they'd pause their tablet games to check their...
wait, was it true! Yes, they could check their very
own cell phones!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">Jimmy
could feel himself salivate. He
couldn't believe all of the action. Hanging from
the sky, seemingly by some sort of
invisible ropes, hung huge flat screen TVs.
Cartoons played high up in the sky as
the kids raced around. Some kids got out of
their go-carts and sat down on huge, massive carpets.
They crooked their necks up at
the screens and just stared at the shows.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">"This place
is heaven!" Jimmy said out loud. He
couldn't contain his excitement. He
could feel the heat from all of
the radiation that flowed out of all of the devices.
Though the environment was full of birds and plants and
a giant waterfall, all Jimmy could hear was
the glorious hum of the electronic equipment.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">"Jimmy, what do you
think?" The suited dad spoke up.
"Isn't it amazing?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">"Oh, yeah it
is!"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">"Well, all of this
could be yours. All you need to do for us is to
keep quiet about Couchland. Tell your mom you fell
through a crack in the couch, nothing more. No big deal.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">'<i>Magical place'? you'll say.
'What magical place? Mom, don't be so silly." he'd chuckle. "Dad must just be at work. In fact, I think
I saw him cutting the lawn in the backyard.
Mom, you can do those dishes and
that laundry by yourself, don't you think?'</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">Jimmy
was already busy memorizing those horrible lies when
his dad grabbed him by the shoulders.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">"Jimmy, what's gotten in
to you?! Have you gone berserk!"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">Jimmy
couldn't hold back. At once, he bolted towards
the ground. His hammock zipping away from the group.
His father chased after him while the
other men smiled as they looked on.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">"Perfect, we have
Jimmy right where we want him." And they
all laughed like silly hyenas.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">Meanwhile, Jimmy's
hammock was close to the ground when his dad caught up to
him and JUMPED OFF OF HIS HAMMOCK!
He flew through the air, tackled Jimmy off of
his ride, and they both tumbled to the ground.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">The smell of electronics filled the
air as Jimmy and his Dad tussled in the grass. His dad
tried to calm him down by pinning his arms, but
at the last minute Jimmy reached for an out
of date tablet laying on
the grass and smacked his dad right in
the shoulder. Schrump! His dad flew back and Jimmy
tossed the useless device to
the side in search of
a new, more effective one.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">Suddenly, his dad was
back on him, and this time with a little more gumption.
Jimmy felt his dad lean into him
and smear his face in the mud. Children all
around were too fixated with
their games and gadgets to even realize that
this scuffle was going on right in front of them. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">Jimmy was down.
His father pinned his arms into the mud and
pressed him down further.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">"Jimmy,
you gotta come to your senses. This
place, these screens, they're going
to ruin you!"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">"But what
about you dad? What about Couchland?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">Jimmy
could tell his dad was thinking things over. He could
see it in his eyes. All the relaxing, and the hammocks,
and the golf. All of the 'taking it easy'.
Was it worth it if it meant he
was cheating his son out of quality time and
his wife out of honest work?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">He released Jimmy
and helped him up. They sat for a moment.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">"Listen, son.
You're right. This place, and Couchland... these worlds are
bad because they make us weak and dishonest men.
We need to find a way to end it."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">They got up and looked
around. The strange men were nowhere to be seen.
They thought that was for the best as they didn't want to
be bothered by them while they
were trying to ruin their worlds.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">"Look, dad!"
Jimmy pointed up a high mountain. Near the
middle stood a giant HD TV.
Probably the biggest TV he had ever seen in
his life.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">"Jimmy, this
is no time to watch TV."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">"No, dad.
Think about it. A TV like that's going to
need a whole lot of power. There must be a
giant plug on the back of that TV and
that plug is going to lead us to the...<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">The both said it
at once, "source of all the power!"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">At once they raced towards
the mountain. On the way they heard a noise from
above. The bad dad's were on the move!
Their hammocks swooped down and one just missed nabbing Jimmy
with a long HDMI cable. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">Jimmy saw a
boy playing a GameBuddy while riding on
a hover board. Jimmy pushed the boy off (and he
didn't even notice he was so focused on
his game) and Jimmy's Dad hopped on the back.
They raced towards the mountain!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">A bad
dad swooped down again and swung the HDMI cable.
Jimmy snatched it out of his hands. Then
he made a lasso and tossed its loop around
the bumper of a scooter racing by. The boy on
the scooter was racing to the big TV to see the
end of his favourite show.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">Jimmy and his
dad immediately sped up.
The cable acted like a bungee cord and
they shot like a slingshot towards the TV.
In fact,
they soared a bit too fast, flew into the
air, and crashed right through the screen!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">"Hey,
what gives?!"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">"Ya' ruined our
show!"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">"What are
we gonna do without da' big screen?!"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">Jimmy and his dad got up
and looked around. The cord lead up the mountain.
Yet, from around the front of the TV,
a gang of kids had gathered.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">"Hey, there they
are." A boy pointed. "Get 'em"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">Jimmy and his
dad took off up the mountain.
After about 10 seconds they turned around
and saw that they were not being followed.
The gang of kids, in fact, were all too lazy
and out of shape to chase them. Someone in the group had found an
old GameSlug and the rest of the gathered around
to watch. Jimmy and his dad looked
at each other, shrugged, then headed back up to
the top of the mountain.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">At the top,
they found what looked to be a giant brick of power.
It was in the shape of a brick, it was huge, and it
seemed to be radiating energy. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">They were about
to step towards it when the Bad Dads showed up.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">"Well, well, well.
Looks like
you two got smart and found the source of power for
not only Screenland, but Couchland as well. Too bad you're
not going to get any closer to it."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">"What
you men are doing is wrong!" shouted Jimmy's
dad.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
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<br /></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">"Wrong?!
Wrong?! You want to know what wrong is?
How about having to do the dishes after your wife makes cheesy, slimy, sticky macaroni surprise.
Or how about having to mow the lawn with
a mower from 1973? You know how hard it was
to mow the lawn in 1973? It must have
been hard because mowing the lawn now, in this year, with
a lawnmower from 1973 is really, really hard!"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">"You're right."
Jimmy's dad said.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">"Wait, dad!"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
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<div class="MsoNormal">
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">"You're right.
It is hard. Being a man is hard. There is work to do.
It needs to be done. If you're not going to do
it, who else is going to do it? You're poor, poor wife?
I'm sure she already works hard. You're kids?
Well, I know how that works." He looked at his son.
"I feel like nothing but a lazy, lazy little man.
And I'm sure that, if you gentlemen look inside
your hearts deep enough, you'll find a real, honest,
hard working man in there."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">The Bad Dad's
were quiet. Their shoulders were slumped.
One of them was kicking the dirt in
a sheepish way.
Another actually said "Awe, shucks". <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">With tears in
his eyes, the middle one spoke.
"You're absolutely right.
No question about it."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
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<br /></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">The men turned aside, making a
way for Jimmy and his dad to unplug the worlds and end
the madness. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">Jimmy's looked up to his
dad, but his dad just pointed the way and encouraged Jimmy
to do the honours.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">Jimmy took a step forward.
He could still hear the sound of games everywhere.
Beeps and Bops, car-racing games, fighting games, games where
you pretend you're a
kid pretending to play a game you're a
kid pretending to play. That was Jimmy's favourite.
He felt the lure.
He felt the urge to run back and
get lost in the mindless, soul-killing act of life gaming.
He had heard about kids in Japan who had got
into life gaming. It's where you never stop.
You play and you play. Cause if you stop,
you're body can't handle it. If you stop,
you die. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">Jimmy gulped.
He knew what he needed to do. He ran towards
the power brick and reached for the cord.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">With an instinctual last second change of heart,
all of the men (including Jimmy's
dad) ran after him. "Nooooo!" they cried.
But it was too late. A bright flash of light,
and then it was quiet.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
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<br /></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">The
next moment Jimmy and his dad were back in
their house, sitting on the
couch, watching the basketball game.
They both looked at each other and realized that it
was all over. Was it a dream?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">Jimmy's mom was in
the kitchen doing the dishes. At once, Jimmy and
his dad bounced up, turned off the TV,
and hurried over to the kitchen.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">"Here, let us finished
up in here. You go relax for a bit."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">His mom
was speechless. Jimmy just grabbed her by the
arm and gently walked her over to the living room and
sat her down on her favourite chair. She still
didn't say anything. She just sat there.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">Jimmy and his
dad scrubbed away at the pile of dishes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; font-size: 13.5pt;">"Was that real?"
Jimmy whispered. "I don't know," said his dad, handing him
a plate to dry off, "but first thing in
the morning I am cancelling my sports channels."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Brett http://www.blogger.com/profile/10632343649661747519noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4480218591747722314.post-17263988382915526302016-10-31T15:57:00.002-07:002016-10-31T15:57:43.168-07:00TunesAs I feel that I have settled well into my mid-thirties, I thought it pertinent to confide in you my top 10 musicians of all time. Or at least up until now.<br />
<br />
Back when I was a teenager, I thought I had arrived at the best music ever. I believe my favourite band in high school was <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fWJatwKa8FQ">Buck-O-Nine</a>, a ska band that sang songs about chicks and growing up.<br />
<br />
Early twenties had me into Dave Matthews, Ben Harper, and Lauren Hill's unplugged album. A little better but not even anywhere near where I needed to be.<br />
<br />
In my late twenties, I swam in the never ending seas of folk rock. Eventually, the names of the bands and the lyrics annoyed me too much. I gave up and I realized that I had to stop letting a genre corner me into everything it had to offer.<br />
<br />
I look back at early days. When I was 10 I had a Beach Boys tape. It made me feel great. I sang along to it. My mom gave me a DC Talk rap album. Sure, why not? It was fun. <br />
<br />
Early teens, I had almost every Beatles record. Good for teen me. Then I got angry and went into Punk. For some reason Ska was allowed to come along for the ride.<br />
<br />
If you don't know what Ska is, good for you. If you do, you probably remember the bands having 'yo-yoers' on stage with them. Weird.<br />
<br />
So now I'm sorta confident that I know what I'm talking about when I say that I know what I like. I'm sure that 45 year old Brett will have a lot to say on the subject.<br />
<br />
Musical tastes, like everything else within the human experience, evolves as it seeks fulfillment. If I listen to Skynyrd and nothing else, then chances are that I am a stubborn person who would probably be very well glued to his opinions about everything. I want to learn and grow, so I open myself up to music.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKZYGsdHMNnZBhxdQV_AKPFe1Zivq2OhnMaYbTfeSK6HZYg1JHzOK3p_zxffDL3-3bcFQBMAtUbPiRaZyEw33hMoJ_qKCeeuMOFtssM0I419HwQPgQoJOlXTU1TtvChiygmbXtF7jUNpM/s1600/5796234466_bdcf92c531_b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKZYGsdHMNnZBhxdQV_AKPFe1Zivq2OhnMaYbTfeSK6HZYg1JHzOK3p_zxffDL3-3bcFQBMAtUbPiRaZyEw33hMoJ_qKCeeuMOFtssM0I419HwQPgQoJOlXTU1TtvChiygmbXtF7jUNpM/s320/5796234466_bdcf92c531_b.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Miles, 2008</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
You might want disagree with my choices, but you can't... it's my list. Go and make your own.<br />
<br />
There is no particular order. I have included a beloved song of each artist.<br />
<br />
Leonard Cohen - Come Healing<br />
Tom Waits - Anywhere I Lay My Head<br />
Bon Iver - Re: Stacks<br />
Feist - The Bad In Each Other<br />
Hayden - Don't Get Down<br />
Death Cab for Cutie - Binary Sea<br />
David Bazan - People<br />
Ryan Adams - Oh My God, Whatever, Etc.<br />
Wilco - You Are My Face<br />
Andy Shauf - Lick Your Wounds<br />
The Beatles - For No One<br />
<br />
<br />
Conclusion is that most of this music is pretty sad. Sad music makes me feel good. <br />
<br />
<br />Brett http://www.blogger.com/profile/10632343649661747519noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4480218591747722314.post-29419548854869753362016-06-08T21:25:00.003-07:002016-06-08T21:25:54.544-07:00CouchlandJimmy was a hard worker. His mom had a lot of chores for him to do, and he usually did them without complaint. But lately things seemed to be getting out of hand. <br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibUfGvVB3OB25GSMBNdFMiAoyfc6bfVLz3lTXWnBIcYDLWechXi5Tt0_lS5Jcj3-jAQEw6jsT8eobz7kTysUZTdPL6oU7ZPgmoun9lV6Pinh-R4xm2kEpE8OqFWkB63NS_LBd8rCCJBxs/s1600/couchland.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibUfGvVB3OB25GSMBNdFMiAoyfc6bfVLz3lTXWnBIcYDLWechXi5Tt0_lS5Jcj3-jAQEw6jsT8eobz7kTysUZTdPL6oU7ZPgmoun9lV6Pinh-R4xm2kEpE8OqFWkB63NS_LBd8rCCJBxs/s320/couchland.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
You see, the problem was Jimmy's dad, Carl. Carl had a lot of chores to do, too, but when Jimmy's mom came calling, Carl could not be found. One moment, Carl would be sitting there on the couch, watching the hockey game, with a hot plate of nachos perched atop his belly, and then, when Jimmy's mom had a job for him to do, Carl was no where to be found. This complicated mess meant more chores for Jimmy.<br />
<br />
"Carl, can you please come and set the table?"<br />
<br />
"Carl, can you please give the dog a haircut?"<br />
<br />
"Carl, please go outside, lick your finger, hold it up, and tell me which way the wind is blowing."<br />
<br />
Even though some of these requests seemed to convey that Jimmy's mom was perhaps a bit unreasonable with her chore list, the most amazing thing was that when she would say "Carl, can you please..." Carl would be sitting there, as usual, on the green couch. Yet by the time she finished with one of her requests like "go and water the sidewalk" or "go out and scream really loudly until the neighbours complain" Carl would be gone. Like a ghost, he would vanish!<br />
<br />
Poof!<br />
<br />
So, inevitably, Jimmy could be seen hosing down the dry sidewalk for some reason, or chasing around ol' Rover the puppy with a pair of scissors and one of those big backwards capes that hair cutters make you wear. Like a cool Batman cape, only backwards. <br />
<br />
One day, as Jimmy was taking the trash to the curb while Carl was off who-knows-where, Jimmy didn't see the giant pile of compost full of rotting turkey bacon sitting near the trash can, and he stepped right in it!<br />
<br />
SK-WISH-GUZZLERS!<br />
<br />
Jimmy had had enough! Where on earth was his dad? Where on earth was Carl?<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Jimmy had a plan.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The next day Jimmy ate and ate and ate.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
He had tomato soup, and chocolate flavoured pudding. He ate cheese flavoured pizza and pizza flavoured cheese. He had crackers and snackers, chips and dips. Sausages and 3 kinds of sticky pickles. He was stuffed! And he made a big, big mess of things in the kitchen.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Quickly and sneakily, he hid behind the curtains next to the couch while his dad was watching the game.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
"Jimmy!" His mother called, as she surveyed the mess of dishes. "Get your little legs in here, now!"</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Not a sound could be heard but for the noise of the game on the TV and a big, sneer, root beer burp from Carl.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Jimmy's mom shrugged and walked away as she said, "well, Carl. Looks like this mess is yours to clean."</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Jimmy kept a close eye on Carl as a magical thing happened. His dad reached down for the remote and with his greasy finger pressed a strange looking button located at the bottom. Slowly, like sand sinking through a funnel, Jimmy's dad began to seep in between the cushions! Just as he disappeared into the void, Jimmy sprung from behind and dove in after him.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Suddenly Jimmy was sliding deep down into the couch. It felt like he was sliding deeper down into the earth on a slide a lot like the one at his school playground. Down, down he went.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
After about a minute later, Jimmy fell off the end and landed on a pile of couch cushions. He was dizzy because that was a really twisty ride.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
He shook it off, looked around and realized that he was in a magical place. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
It was a giant field of grass. Trees were everywhere providing shade to people who were sitting under them. As far as he could see, in every direction, were beautiful trees and gardens.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Jimmy got up to take a look around. He saw a man reading a sports magazine while sipping on a root beer. He saw another man snoozing away under a great big palm tree. He saw another man sleeping soundly in a big, comfy hammock hanging between 2 oak trees. It seemed that all of the people in this world were men. Men that looked to be relaxing. Men that looked a lot like the kind of person his dad was. Men... running away from something. Men... hiding from chores.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
And just then, Jimmy turned to see his dad fishing in a nearby pond.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
"Dad?"</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Startled, Carl dropped the rod, turned around, lost his balance and fell back into the pond. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Sploosh!</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The noise startled some nearby dozers. One of them flashed a grumpy frown, rolled over, and went back to sleep.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Carl pulled himself out of the pond. As he was drying himself off, a fish came swimming up to him and slapped him across the face with his fin.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
"Jimmy?! Hey, how's it going? Isn't this place great?"</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
"What is this place?!"</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Carl hurried over. "Shh, kept it down, will ya? Some people here are trying to sleep. This is Couchland. It's a place for dads and, um, people like dads can get a break from chores and stuff."</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
"But, dad... this is where you go when it's time for chores?! I've been doing your chores while you've been relaxing?!"</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Carl stood there looking at Jimmy. He smiled and scratched his head, thinking. "Ya, but... um, well, when you put it that way..." He was stumped. Only then did he just realize that he was in a tough spot. That this was not a place he would like Jimmy to know about.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
He looked over jimmy's shoulder to see another dad sneaking up with the fishing rod. Jimmy didn't see that it was his neighbour Phil. Phil hooked Jimmy's jeans and tugged really hard.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Immediately, Jimmy flew into the air, over the trees, and through the skies high above Couchland. From up above he could see fields and fields full of lazy, lazy, men. Men of all shapes and sizes, but mostly big and chubby shapes and sizes. The kind of sizes that like to eat nachos and watch the game. The kind of sizes that skip out on chores. <br />
<br />
He could see Carl waving as Phil kept flinging the fishing rod up in the air. "Don't take this personally, Jimbo. Dad just needs some 'me time'. Need to reboot the ol' batteries, you know? Don't tell mom! Our little secret..."<br />
<br />
The blue skies quickly bleed to green, and Jimmy felt himself digging through stuffing and foam until he was coughing on an old cheese-o and climbing out of the crack in the back of the couch.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Jimmy's mom was sitting on the opposite couch, and immediately dropped her hot tea on the floor.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
"Jimmy, what on earth?!"</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
He climbed up and caught his breath. "It's dad. He's lost his marbles! He's gone Cu-Cu clocks!"</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
"What do you mean?"</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Jimmy pressed the button on the remote and dove back towards the back of the couch. Instead of a slide his head was greeted with the back of the couch. Bonk!</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Jimmy rubbed his head. Why didn't it work?</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
"Jimmy, what on earth is going on?!"</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
"I don't know, mom. But it's not on earth... It's Couchland!"<br />
<br />
<br />
To be continued...</div>
Brett http://www.blogger.com/profile/10632343649661747519noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4480218591747722314.post-10453926426059716912016-05-19T08:27:00.000-07:002016-05-19T08:34:08.783-07:0035 thoughts on my lifeThis is an ongoing list that began on my 25th birthday back in 2006 in China. Just something to look back on. It's a bit of a read, but there are some nuggets in there.<br />
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 16px;">1.) Not really a moment, but I really enjoyed the summer of 2000 when I got to get to know a really great girl. We worked at camp and it was fun working together and going to campfires together and hanging out on the weekend. At the end of the summer I must have tricked her into being my girlfriend and now I am in the clear as we are married for almost 5 and a half years.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 16px;">EDIT 2011: We have been married for almost 9 and a half years! Can you believe that? Barbara is the patient, loving, tender, giving wife and mother of my dreams. And she’s had 2 kids and still looks very good looking.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 16px;">EDIT 2016: Still together;) Planning a nice trip to Quebec for our 15th! She's had 3 kids, 2 for us and one for her best friends, and she's still a babe.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 16px;">2.) A moment I really enjoyed is playing street hockey this past Christmas with Bryce, Barry, Jeff, Rob, Mike, Brent, Jesse and Cody. We played until we could literally no longer see anything because it was so dark.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 16px;">EDIT 2011: We played street hockey in China a couple of times. Our homemade sticks would break all the time. An old man picked up a stick and tried it once. A monk picked up a stick and tried it once. I hope that I can get the hockey going again here. Street hockey is my favorite sport and I have a lot of fond memories with it.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 16px;">EDIT 2016: Jonas is my hockey buddy. He dreams of playing in the NHL. His confidence is sky high. He thinks that Eberle is a better skater than him, but he's convinced that he has a better shot.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 16px;">3.) Playing poker with the boys in high school after basketball tournament and late on weekends. One time I almost lost 7 dollars in nickels and dimes! Playing with Robbie, Neilson, Quincy, Kevin, etc...</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 16px;">EDIT 2011: We play poker here in China. I learned a lot about the craft from local expert Dustin. No matter who is in or out of town, we always find time to get a few guys together for a fun night of poker and Qing Dao beer. It is a little sanity in the midst of what sometimes seems like a lot of insanity.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 16px;">4.) Playing high school basketball in grade 10. We lost to Spruce Grove in the finals every year of junior high, and then beat them in overtime in grade 10. That was my favorite basketball team that I have ever been on.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 16px;">EDIT 2011: Still a great memory. It was sweet justice for all of those losing seasons. Definitely a highlight of tenth grade.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 16px;">5.) Driving down to Boston from Montreal for a day back in 2000 with Jeff and Gina. We left Montreal at 8am with a rental car, drove through Vermont and the like, and then came to Boston much later. We walked around Harvard, drove by Fenway Park and we ate pizza at a place with a bathroom in the kitchen. I opened the stall door to a man cutting onions. Jeff got a parking ticket. Then we left Boston and drove through the night. Jeff was speeding and we got pulled over by a highway patrol guy. We prayed, he let us off and Jeff pulled over to sleep a little. I was uncomfortable in the back seat so I stayed up and just stared out at the rain on the window. A trucker pulled up, probably to sleep, but I thought he was going to kill us. He didn’t and we made it back to Montreal with about 20 minutes to spare with our 24 hour rental.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 16px;">EDIT 2011: Someday I will go to a game at Fenway Park and that will be on this list.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 16px;">6.) We were little kids and dad would set up an open sleeping bag for Bryce and I to wrestle on. It was like a wrestling ring and Bryce was always, and always will be, stronger than me.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 16px;">EDIT 2011: I wrestle with Miles and Jonas now. I still dominate them but they are only 1 and 3 years old so it’s not really fair.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 16px;">EDIT 2016: I can still out wrestle the boys, but Barbara has said more than once that they already "out-sports" her.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 16px;">7.) One time when we were little, Bryce and I and the neighbor Doug all decided to have a picnic on the back of Doug's dad's cool work truck. We all went in to get food from our moms. Doug got something normal, like a luncheon meat pack or something. But our mom made kool-aid and good sandwiches and other good stuff. She made it all right away. We gave her no warning of the picnic. It took me a few years to be mature enough to realize what a great thing our mom did for us that day.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 16px;">EDIT 2011: My mom loves me. She gave me a Valentine in my lunch in high school. On my 18th birthday so brought Dairy Queen ice cream pizza for everyone in my biology class.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 16px;">Once again, a few more years of maturity and I learn to appreciate that stuff. I’ll have to remember that with Miles and Jonas when I drop them off at college and want to kiss and hug them goodbye. Jonas will probably literally murder me.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 16px;">EDIT 2016: Mom posted a baby picture of me on Facebook and gave me a nice card. So that's still a nice thing.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 16px;">8.) In high school our football team worked a concession at the Eskimo football games and we did concerts as well. I signed up for the U2 concert (who wouldn't?). Craig and I got there early to see the big Lemon being set up and the big "Pop Mart" arch. All of our food was gone by the time the opening band was finished. As we were cleaning up I enjoyed watching people slow dancing next to the trash cans outside our booth as Bono lent out his voice to another one of his ballads. Later we watched the rest of the show from the side and I remember that as being the day that the song "where the street have no name" changed me.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 16px;">EDIT 2011: No edit actually, that was an amazing night.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 16px;">9.) Going to former Prime Minister Pierre Trudeau's funeral by myself in Montreal in 2000. Thousands of people and no room to move outside of the Church. There were big screens set up outside and I watched one of his sons cry out a good-bye message to his dad in French, which I still do not understand. A man my age was climbing up a power box next to me to get a better look at the celebrities coming out after the service. He said Leonard Cohen was there. I saw Fidel Castro standing 30 feet away from me across the stage from Jimmy Carter. Then Castro got into a car and drove away.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 16px;">EDIT 2011: I have since seen Leonard Cohen again, live in Edmonton. I was once again by myself. It was my favorite concert to be at and probably the only artist I could think of that I wouldn’t mind going to see alone.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 16px;">EDIT 2016: Leonard has since put out 2 more amazing records. He is still my favorite. You should listen to him. The son reading the eulogy was Justin.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 16px;">10.) Last summer I went with Barbara and her family to Manitoba to a reunion at a cabin. The cabin was one that they went to for many summers. The water from the lake is pumped directly into the cabin's taps and you can drink it! The health people tested it and it is THAT CLEAN! We floated on the lake, read books, and went storm chasing. Summer nights on the Prairies are good nights to be alive for.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 16px;">11.) Our wedding was nice. I liked wearing a suit for the first time in my life and feeling important. I remember Barbara all smashing and enchanting and I remember Dan Sabo's bow tie. I thought that the video that Bryce made for us was classy and something to remember. Later, we drove away and got a sprite slurpee from 7-11 in St. Albert wearing our wedding attire before driving to our apartment for the first time as a Mr. and Mrs.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 16px;">EDIT 2011: I think our wedding cost $2500. We cut corners and it still turned out to be quite a unique event. Since then people have photographers that charge more than $2500. Barbara wore a veil and people don’t do that anymore. Things have changed in the wedding department. I am kind of glad we got hitched before the expensive wedding trend.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 16px;">12.) The Calgary Folk Fest last summer. A picnic with 10 thousand of your closest friends! We ate curry and Naan bread and laughed at Buck 65 and Hawksley. Seeing my favorite singer Jeff Tweedy up close was a treat. Dancing to Arrested Development on Saturday night was the best. I’ve got a good picture of it. That was the debut of my deer sweater.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">EDIT 2011: I wore the deer sweater the other day. It is still faithful to me.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 16px;">13.) Driving in the city of Edmonton on a hot, hot summer's day with Bryce, Jeff, Craig S and maybe Brent. We were at a stoplight thinking about getting ice cream when a truck turning ahead of us had a door fling open on the side. It was a Haagen Daz ice cream truck and 2 quarts of Chocolate Thunder flew out the door. Then the door closed. We pulled over to pick them up. One got squashed but Jeff grabbed the other one. Then we went into the closest restaurant (Taco Bell) and ate it. We had to use forks but it was cold enough to do that. Someone asked us where we got it from and we told them it flew out of a truck! I almost peed my pants that day, laughing so hard. That is a TRUE story.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 16px;">EDIT 2011: This is the miracle that proves that life is meant to be enjoyed.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 16px;">EDIT 2016: Still feels like a dream. I confirmed with Bryce the other day that this did indeed happen to us.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 16px;">14.) Barbara and I were in the states at a wedding when we heard that her grandmother had died and we needed to go home on a Greyhound bus. Well, the bus driver never told us where to get off and we missed our stop on our way to Canada. We went from Bozman all the way to Spokane, Washington! We needed to wait there for our bus back to Montana. It would leave in 9 hours. So Barbara and I shopped and she bought a hat she would years later forget in a Nepali Taxi. We went to eat at Red Robbin. A picture of us there was on one of our Jones Soda wedding favour bottles. It was a nice time to spend together even though the Greyhound people are cranky jerks, that is unless one of you works for them. If so, then all Greyhound people are nice.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 16px;">EDIT 2011: Still have not been on a Greyhound since. China’s buses have better service than Greyhound.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 16px;">The road shows who you really are, just ask anyone that has been on a missions outreach. I think that this trip was a serendipitous time where Barbara and I were able to be alone together without people thinking that we were skanky. We learned that we could keep each other company for long periods of time. The rest is history.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 16px;">EDIT 2016: When speaking of this trip Barbara reminds me that, while on the bus, I elbowed her in the head multiple times. I was just trying to put on my hoodie and misjudged how close she was. Since then I have yet to elbow her again.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 16px;">15.) Working with Grandpa Jack Derman in his backyard last spring. It was nice to hang out and work together and help out the old guy. Grandma would make us a really good lunch every day and they insisted on paying me. I joke that they were my grandparents and employers and that my employer made me lunch on dishes that my mother probably came home from school to eat on when she was a kid. Grandpa Derman is one of the funniest men I know, and if you meet him you will agree. Grandma is also very much the same. She is very thoughtful and remembers a lot of important things that most people would forget. I have a picture of her on my office wall of her standing in Sunflowers taller than her.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3rYalXbWmS-H2C1MC359V5JGYQXfTKzcLk2-HIdLlefEsfqo7WFgXIEHtSwWLELMdxa0Ia1QOP6NtITj72oI-2PBIo2uwkta4AqfwAGB_Uvieb9p71fPcXARGnHpX4TSbblCXH8dL5Gws/s1600/IMG_0586.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5604349264885099314" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3rYalXbWmS-H2C1MC359V5JGYQXfTKzcLk2-HIdLlefEsfqo7WFgXIEHtSwWLELMdxa0Ia1QOP6NtITj72oI-2PBIo2uwkta4AqfwAGB_Uvieb9p71fPcXARGnHpX4TSbblCXH8dL5Gws/s320/IMG_0586.JPG" style="float: right; height: 240px; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; width: 320px;" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">G & G Derman with Miles</td></tr>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 16px;">EDIT 2011: Beautiful Grandma Derman passed away last summer. She was very thoughtful. I gave her a gift of micro machines when I was little and later on, after I was married, she still proudly displayed them on a shelf in the hallway. After she passed, Grandpa Derman gave us some Flintstones cars that Grandma had been collecting for the boys. Where she got them, I do not know, but the fact that this cute, frail little lady thought that the boys would like them is amazing. The cars are still apart of their vehicle fleet.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 16px;">EDIT 2016: Grandpa Derman passed away probably 3 or 4 years ago now. His love was often hidden in his heart, so often difficult to see. He cared greatly for his family. The last time I saw him I kissed him for the first time. He was surprised by it, but I hope it made his day. I miss them.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 16px;">16.) Playing soccer when we were 8 or 9. I played with Reagan, Craig, and Brent. We had yellow shirts and we beat everyone that year in the final tournament. But since we were so young no one got any special medals because it would probably make the other kids cry. But we beat them all and remember being so happy that we were so good.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 16px;"><b>EDIT 2016: Miles and Jonas played a year of soccer last year and are now in baseball. The circle of life.</b></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3onuAlpXil0IuoxNNDYCRrI3YqsCITFHIFISCtuqiSE5qulQyyUGEPwWLaM4i0TPYbYxAZOLdOYZtqgHl9vW9Rj7yuxOYeGnjZxLJC6TE72ABt7wajGCJlAceq_221d66PfDGCser3g4/s1600/17589231033_ee70c248d8_k.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3onuAlpXil0IuoxNNDYCRrI3YqsCITFHIFISCtuqiSE5qulQyyUGEPwWLaM4i0TPYbYxAZOLdOYZtqgHl9vW9Rj7yuxOYeGnjZxLJC6TE72ABt7wajGCJlAceq_221d66PfDGCser3g4/s320/17589231033_ee70c248d8_k.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Miles first goal ever!</td></tr>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 16px;">17.) Having BBQ's on our balcony last summer when we lived at Sarah's apartment. We ate hot dogs and smokies. Sarah does not eat that kind of food anymore.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 16px;">Edit: BBQs on the deck in China rival those ones. I had a birthday party up there once. I love BBQs.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 16px;">18.) Christmas's when we were young. We slept under the tree and by the fire. We ate food with zero nutritional value. Barry was so small that he slept between 2 mattresses. One morning Bryce and I kept opening Atari games as presents and we were getting mad because we did not have an Atari. Later, when we opened an Atari we felt a lot better and realized that that was dad's plan all along.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 16px;">19.) So, when I was younger no one would want to play street hockey as much as me. So, I would dress up in goalie gear and go out and flick the ball at myself. People laugh about it now but I liked it. I always played hockey or football or basketball by myself. I think it is because I had seriously convinced myself, for a couple of years, that I was going to be a professional athlete. Even though I am now not a pro, I still do not regret shooting the ball at myself or kicking the football through the pine trees that looked like goal posts next to the Tober's house.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 16px;">EDIT 2011: Contrary to popular belief, I am actually very proud of this one.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 16px;">20.) At Christmas the cousins would go take out the skidoo with tubes attached to the back. That was fun. Then when the winter's started getting browner and we all started getting busier/moving away.... we stopped.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 16px;">21.) Working at the skate park with Brian and Becky and getting 10 and 11 year old kids to teach me how to skate while I was 23 years old. I landed 3 out of 1000 kick flips and I could Ollie over a 2 by 4 once in a while. But Becky and Brian and good people to work with and be friends with. We had a lot of laughs.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 16px;">22.) Football. City Champs in 1997. We were really good, but St. Albert was better and we did not make provincials. It was fun and we were on TV sometimes.... because we were so freaking good! Barbara thinks that she watched that final loss to St.Albert. I think she was watching her boyfriend play. Little did she know that she was also watching her husband play. I had a crappy game though.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 16px;">23.) Barbara and I were in Nepal and we had to get up at 6am to hike up a mountain to teach English in a village. Barbara actually got to ride with Denny on the back of a motorbike and I had to walk. It was always cool with frost on the ground. The Himalayas kept staring at me as I rounded the northern part of the mountain. A Buddhist monk would greet me sometimes and I got to take a short cut through the monastery. We played volleyball at the top and once in awhile the ball would go about 100 yards down the mountain. No problem though as kids would race to see who would would get to it first.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 16px;">EDIT 2011: The vivid memory is walking along up the mountain, turning the corner, and in the quiet morning be greeted by the sun lit Himalayas. It was personal.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 16px;">24.) Going to Central Tibet last year on a bus for 20 hours. It gave me new ideas of what hell might be like. When I say that I am talking about the 20 bus ride. You don't understand 18 000 feet elevation until you experience it. I was sick from the altitude for 4 days and did not sleep a wink for 3 nights. The forth night I slept through a drunken raging party across the hall, but I woke up to my alarm clock ringing. It was a blessing.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 16px;">EDIT 2011: It’s more coincidence than purposefully, but I still have not been back down that road.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 16px;">EDIT 2016: Never did go back. </span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 16px;">25.) Finally being here. We have our house all fixed up and people always coming over. It is nice to see this dream come true and to see where it leads us. Our house is in an area that is 2 blocks from the university yet on the outside of the city. We walk through old soon to be redeveloped farmer fields to get to class. It is nice to feel like we live in the country yet still be so close to the city.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 16px;">EDIT 2011: Things change. Now in our 3<sup>rd</sup> apartment, we are directly across from the University. The farmer’s fields are all done and replaced with a giant apartment complex where Barbara and a local are in the process of opening a Kindergarten.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 16px;">EDIT 2016: Whoa, man. Big time changes. Kindergarten was a success, but it signalled the end of our time in China. Barbara put her heart into the school, and the stress and day to day dealings took a lot out of her. She lost weight, she cried a lot. In all honesty, it felt like someone had died. It was pretty awful, but also good in a way I have yet to be able to articulate.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 16px;">26.) A few weeks ago, Barbara and I went with Dustin and Ginny to the little doctors office down the street to buy some pregnancy tests for the girls. But the “doctors” inside told Barbara that she should just take the test there in their office. So she did. The one doctor looked at it and said that Barbara is pregnant. Barbara says that when the lady told her she had a concerned look on her face and was studying Barbara’s face to try to see what her reaction would be; if she was happy about it or sad about it. She was happy, of course! As the girls were inside, Dustin and I were outside tossing the football around, the one he got at Jennifer’s yard sale. Barbara came out and as she quickly walked over to me I could see some tears and some smiles, so I knew. So to celebrate, we took a picture of us in front of the doctor’s office and we had the football in our arms to “stand-in” for the baby.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 16px;">After that we walked to the park. We had some laughs and took some more pictures with each other and the football. Now we have pictures of each of us and the “stand-in” for our future child. That was a really good time, thanks to the football and the pregnancy test.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 16px;">EDIT 2011: Football, pregnancy test and the Hendersens! They found out a week or so later that they would have Seth. Soon after we all moved in together for what was to be some of our best times here.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 16px;">EDIT 2016: Good times with the Hendersens, Wilsons, Yorks, Lindemans, and the rest. These people will always have a chunk of my heart. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVuWpsnPE8hS_UdxszX0LOCfl-ZYDuCB8l-tt-isYj9ajKbwa62Q53kyedwIpTUBS3Y0BuV3kXAg4lZqcvCg5zDnVqyJggynInzqBoSJwELGzEC3lmszTB3Xc0Mxy-eWUm-Qo9GbjyokYI/s1600/IMG_3302.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5604347328105381074" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVuWpsnPE8hS_UdxszX0LOCfl-ZYDuCB8l-tt-isYj9ajKbwa62Q53kyedwIpTUBS3Y0BuV3kXAg4lZqcvCg5zDnVqyJggynInzqBoSJwELGzEC3lmszTB3Xc0Mxy-eWUm-Qo9GbjyokYI/s320/IMG_3302.JPG" style="cursor: pointer; float: right; height: 240px; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; width: 320px;" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 16px;">27.) Now for something that might be hard to understand. We were in a dry place in our lives in 2009. The Christian life was seeming to be an impossible hill to climb. More like a cliff. I had the weight of the souls of this entire Province on my introverted shoulders. I felt guilty. I felt like I was some sort of soldier who just wanted to write poems and put flowers in the barrels of the enemy’s guns. I don’t know; be me.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 16px;">Then we went to Thailand for a conference. A man spoke at the conference. A horrible speaker he was. I had no idea what he was saying until it clicked on one morning. That click did a lot for me.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 16px;">To this day, hundreds of people will tell you that that conference was a waste of time, even detrimental to society as a whole. Some would say that the man had a skewed view of God. That may be true in some ways, but once things clicked for me I was on a new journey filled with a revelation of a glimpse of what might possibly be the tip of the iceberg of mercy and love.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 16px;">All I know is that I was blind but now I see.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 16px;"><b>EDIT 2016: Continuing the journey. We have a great community out at Nakamun and a great Church to learn at Gateway.</b></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 16px;">28.) We are living with the Hendersens. Barbara is in the bathroom. The Hendersens and I are in the living room hanging around. Suddenly, the bathroom door bursts open and Barbara spills out in a pile of tears and laughter. She was pregnant. Thus, Jonas Darrough came into our lives.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 16px;">My second son was born less than 2 years ago but somehow I feel like he’s been with us all along. He is the spark that sets our family on fire. Miles has a good time with his bro, but boy does Jonas ever stir the drink. I am sure that if he was not around we would be very boring people and Miles would already have skipped ahead into Harvard.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 16px;">It is an honor for us to name Jonas after or great friend and mentor Kevin Darrough and his lovely wife Kim. Kevin passed away a little over 2 years ago. He was the funniest man I know and, right now, I am sure that he must still be pretty funny.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 16px;"><b>EDIT 2016: Kim passed away from cancer, too. Honestly, these guys were given a shitty deal with the C word. They were the best. They were so encouraging and challenging. They were the best thing to happen to us out of YWAM. I am so happy their name carries on with Jonas.</b></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 16px;">29.) The blessing of being handed film equipment to be in charge of led me to the manuals and trying to figure out how the stuff works and failing, thus leading eventually to a 3 month film course in Hawaii. That was a great time and laid a foundation to what I hope will be even bigger things in the future. It was great to be around 20 other people who love films as much as I do. Totally worth it in so many ways.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 16px;"><b>EDIT 2016: I am in charge of the film stuff at Camp Nakamun. It's nice to continue to learn and continue to use the skills I learned from the film school. Though, someday I still want to make a movie.</b></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 16px;">30.) Jonas is about as affectionate as a cactus. Miles hands out kisses and hugs to everyone but Jonas is a closed book most of the time. So today when I was putting him to bed it was nice to catch a little glimpse off his unique method of comradely. </span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 16px;">He insists that we sing the theme to “Little Einsteins” before he goes to bed. I was singing it and then there is a part with a key change and you make the sound of a rocket going up in the sky. My throat was sore so my voice kind of cracked. Now, the whole song until then he was looking to the ceiling, listening to the song. But when my voice cracked he looked at me like I was crazy. Then he smiled and laughed at me a little. Then he imitated my cracked voice to perfection. I laughed with him and then went on to continue the song. But he cut me off and made fun of me again, imitating me once again. He was totally making fun of me. He was kind of bullying me in a way. But I will take that as comradery and will hope to build on that tomorrow.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 16px;">In all honesty, the boys are the best things that ever happened to me. They are also the best things that ever happened to our marriage. If I am depressed or worried about life, I can always be interrupted by Miles asking me where the Whoopee cushion is.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 16px;"><b>EDIT 2016: Jonas loves me, this I know. He wants to hang out with me all of the time. He is sports crazy, so I do what I can. At night, he gives me kisses so all is well.</b></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN-tQkeOEoogPkXpLGPq8KqVxF9bJAkN5-2-_cBwC2rHDUlE_qZb1OcFZzywEygMZqiCe6mrbnqVCfvQ2-3ZxXJ0X7EJhoCBlAd8qwrA3J2pp0HCdbSFRFHrqcQej2rt5BDKmsRKILR9M/s1600/23896490069_bbb0607a05_k.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN-tQkeOEoogPkXpLGPq8KqVxF9bJAkN5-2-_cBwC2rHDUlE_qZb1OcFZzywEygMZqiCe6mrbnqVCfvQ2-3ZxXJ0X7EJhoCBlAd8qwrA3J2pp0HCdbSFRFHrqcQej2rt5BDKmsRKILR9M/s320/23896490069_bbb0607a05_k.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jonas out on the lake</td></tr>
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<b>It's hard to think of new ones since our time in Canada. We've been here for almost 4 years. Life is a lot busier here, so it takes longer to think back.</b></div>
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<b>31.) One of the reasons we came back to Canada when we did was to say goodbye to Barbara's dad. He didn't have much time left, and when he went into the hospital one last time his girls took turns taking care of him. I'd bring the boys in to see him from time to time, as they would take turns pushing him around in his wheelchair. </b><br />
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<b>I remember bringing in a gingerbread house that the boys had made. They wanted to show it to him. He stared at it for a moment, that cracked off a piece and crunched away.</b></div>
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<b>The funeral was a celebration. The place was packed solid. He even had the foresight to make a goodbye video that I am sure gave people a lot of good feelings. It's still a kick in the gut that his grand kids didn't get to spend more time with him, but at least they have a few good memories to look back on.</b></div>
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<b>32.) Working at Camp Nakamun. It's been great. Sharing a office with Luke and working alongside a bunch of great people is the right place for me. We do a great thing there. I hope to be able to continue to develop and understanding of just how significant it is to work at a place that's main purpose is to help kids grow and give them break from real life.</b></div>
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<b>32B.) Little Rosalie being born. My little niece is so little, has always been, but that doesn't stop her from running around and being little cutie pants. In fact, I am sure it is the main cause of her cuteness.</b></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Little Rosie thinking of her Uncle Brett</td></tr>
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<b>33.) Another thing that's really helped my life is running. I've been running consistently since January 1, 2015. Over 530 miles. I feel a lot better. It's fun to set goals. I've raised a bit of money for a race and hope to do more. </b><br />
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<b>Seriously, though. I feel healthier than when I was 30.</b></div>
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<b>34.) Gateway Alliance Church has been great for us. I remember going there for the first time because we heard that they were going to show a movie that my teacher from the film course had made. The movie is called Hellbound? It's the kind of subject that the church should be encouraged to talk about. And so I figured that the church would have that same feel. They sure do. </b></div>
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<b>The boys love going to church and have invited some of their friends from school. Barbara's friend has since become a part of the church. It's a nice place to learn. I am an introvert, so it will still take a while for me to get to know a few people, but that's okay.</b></div>
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<b>35.) Élodie Elaine Webb. Barbara carried our friends' baby for them. Here is a <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PjqD_sdyeSo">link to a video celebrating their friendship</a>. </b></div>
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<b>When we decided to do this for them we agreed that it would be the coolest thing we've ever done, and 2 years later I still feel the same. She is great. Her parents are amazing parents. It is only the beginning!</b></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The boys with little L.</td></tr>
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Brett http://www.blogger.com/profile/10632343649661747519noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4480218591747722314.post-48137806226581065322016-05-12T12:53:00.000-07:002016-05-15T19:15:14.706-07:00Joe's Loose Tooth<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Joe was growing up. Last year he was 5, now he's
6, and soon (very soon, in fact!) he will be 7. One way a person could
tell that Joe was growing up was looking at the amount of teeth remaining in
his smile. Every few months the number would get smaller. The smile
would still be as big and bright as ever, but there just weren't that many
teeth in there to twinkle and sparkle.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">"I guess it's a part of growing up," Joe
said to himself one day. With so many teeth missing, Joe decided that
eating had become a problem. He went to his mom and asked her to buy him
a blender.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">"What do you need a blender for?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">"Well, I don't have enough teeth to enjoy carrots
and cauliflower and all of those crunchy things I loved to crunch."
Just the thought of it made him break down. "I'm afraid I may
never get to crunch another crunch again!" And with that, Joe
crawled up into a little ball on the floor next to his mom's feet, and had a
little cry.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">"Oh, Joe. Don't you know that you will get
bigger and better teeth?" His mom explained.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">"Huh?!"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">"You've lost your baby teeth, and soon your adult
teeth will grow in, allowing you to crunch and munch even more. Even as
much as your Dad could crunch!"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Joe's Dad was a master cruncher. He crunched any
vegetable. Go ahead, name one vegetable.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Onions? That's too easy!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Carrots? Not a problem!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Rutabagas? In his sleep!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Joe's Dad had walked into the room. Joe didn't
know why, but lately his Dad looked different somehow. He thought about
it for a moment and realized that his Dad had a lot of new things to wear.
He noticed his Dad's sparkly new watch that he bought a few months ago,
and now he saw a shiny new necklace hanging from his neck. In fact... New
suit, new tie, new hat, new socks, new moustache, new fingernail polish, new
glasses, new everything. Joe's dad was fannnncy!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">"Hey Champ! Any loose teeth today?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">He would always ask him that, and now that he had time
think about it, with all of the new clothes and jewellery, Joe became a little
suspicious.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">"Yeah, this one in the front." Joe
replied as he wiggled said tooth back and forth with his tongue.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">"Sweeeet doggie!" His Dad yelped, as
he jumped up in the air and slapped his knee. "I'll go fetch the
string."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Soon enough, Dad was back with a spool of string, and
faster than you could say 'Hot sauce on a mean boss' and without even one
little ouch, Joe's tooth was yanked out.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">His Dad picked up the tooth and held it up to the
light. He pulled out a magnifying glass to examine it with.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">"Oh, yeah. This little number is going to
fetch me quite a pretty penny."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">"What do ya' mean, Dad?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">He must have forgot that Joe was standing right there,
for when he turned to answer Joe he had a look that seemed to indicate that he
really didn't want to answer Joe's question. In fact, the next moment he
acted like Joe didn't even ask a question at all.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">"Um, uh... I really must be going. I have
an appointment with my fashion consultant."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Joe knew that he himself was the one to profit from
this tooth business. And before his mother told him that he would get new
teeth to replace the old ones, Joe didn't think it much of a profit at all to
trade all his teeth just for a few bucks. He was relieved to know that he
would be getting adult ones to replace them.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">For each pulled tooth, a strange and mysterious
creature named Tooth Fairy would come into his room at night and, in exchange
for the old tooth, give him a shinny Toonie. He kept every one in his
hockey card box, as he was currently saving up for a new Bob Maplesauce hockey
Jersey. The Jersey cost $40 and so far Joe had $6, so he was going to
have to lose a lot more teeth before he would be able to skate around in a
Sunland Golden Hammers' #63 jersey.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">So all this talk about his Dad getting money was
strange. Very strange indeed. Joe was going to have to do a little
investigative work. A little bit of night-time investigation.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">That evening, Joe rode his bike to the local coffee
shop and ordered 4 super strong, super large, super energy coffees. He
chugged 3 of them in the parking lot and sipped on the last one as he rode
home.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">At home, he played it cool. He was wide awake,
but to trick his parents he yawned a lot, rubbed his eyes at just the right
time, and even complained a bit about not wanting to go to bed just to throw
them off his track. He brushed his pee and went teeth... I mean, he
brushed his teeth then went pee, and then he was off to bed. Oh wait; he
went pee one more time. That was a lot of coffee, remember?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Joe lay awake. He was curious of what he would
see. Maybe his dad had a deal with the Tooth Fairy. Maybe he did
some accounting work for her. Maybe he was helping her with her taxes.
There was a lot to think about for Joe. How could his dad possibly
be working for the Tooth Fairy?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">It got so late that eventually Joe did fall asleep.
But the coffee had worked because around 2 in the morning Joe awoke to a
small "click". Joe stayed perfectly still, like a sleeping
statue, only moving his eyes around like little marbles in his head.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The "click" was the bedroom door opening.
A faded light slowly grew brighter and brighter as the door creaked open.
And there she was! Tooth Fairy floated in with her wings, hovering
no more than 2 feet above the floor.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">She wasn't graceful, bouncing into the wall and
knocking over some stuffed bunnies and a plastic turtle with no face. She
seemed to be disorganized, like she was late for school. She had a bag
that hung around her waist and some sort of magical looking dust seemed to be
leaking out and onto the floor. She stooped down and tried to scoop up
what she could, but as she shoved it back into the bag some of it got in her
eye. She scratched it and then some got into her mouth. She spit it
and then some got into her nose. Then she sneezed and felt down onto the
floor. Out cold. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">‘What on earth is happening?!’ thought Joe. It
must have been some sort of sleepy dust. She had accidentally put herself
to sleep!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Minutes went by until she finally woke up. She
floated back up into the air and dusted herself off, careful to hold her nose
while she did. Then she looked in Joe's direction. His eyes slammed
shut.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "times"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">He could feel her warmth getting closer. She was
right next to him when he felt the warmth go under his pillow and snatch up the
tooth. Joe peaked to see her examining the tooth with a glass, just like
the one his dad had only much, much smaller.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Up close Joe could see that Tooth Fairy
was like a grandma. She must have been working at her job for a long time.
She must be tired, staying up so late, he thought.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Finally, she placed the tooth deep into
her pouch and at the same time pulled out a very small change purse. She
clicked open the clasp and pulled out a big, crisp 200 dollar bill! It
looked so big as she attempted to balance herself while holding it, which was
like a big piece of drywall for her. Yet she was able to roll it up and
placed it under Joe's pillow. She scribbled down some notes in a little
pad she had hanging from a string dangling from her neck, and dusted off her
hands.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Oh no!!!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Down she dropped, floating back like a
feather onto the floor. There must have been some magic dust still on her
hands! She's such a silly and forgetful Tooth Fairy, thought Joe.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Immediately, another sound could be heard
from the doorway. There was Joe's Dad, sneaking into the room dressed all
in black! He tip-toed across the room like a sneaky ninja, picked up the
Tooth Fairy by her legs, and started shaking her upside down! Coins, big
and small rained down onto the floor. His Dad could be heard giggling as
he continued to treat poor Tooth Fairy like a salt and pepper shaker.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Once the stream of coin clink sounds died
down, he placed the Tooth Fairy on a shelf and scooped up all of the coins on
the floor. He dug through them in his hands until he found a nice, shinny
Toonie. Then he switched it with the 200 dollar bill from under Joe's
pillow!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">What a Skunky thing, thought Joe.
But he was too tired to say anything. Some of the dust must have
fallen onto his head during the robbery. Yes, robbery. That's what
it was, as far as Joe was concerned. His Dad had robbed the Tooth Fairy.
Took everything she had. And then he stole from Joe, too!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">But wait! What was happening now?
As Joe's Dad was busy giggling and counting money in the middle of the
room, Joe could see that the Tooth Fairy had woken up. And she was not
happy!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">She got up and fluttered herself above
Joe's Dad. She dusted him good, and he dropped like a pile of crumby
bricks. The money spilled everywhere. His head hit the toy shelf
and toys went everywhere! Stuffies, race cars, robots, and golden toy
stars crashed down onto the floor, and on top of a very unconscious, and a very
greedy Dad.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">In all of the commotion, the cat walked in
and he must have thought that all of the magical dust on top of Joe's Dad was
actually litter box sand. He bounced up on top of him, peed, and then
flicked the dust onto Joe's Dad's face! Then the cat fell asleep!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Meanwhile, the Tooth Fairy had gathered
all of the coins up, and returned Joe's $200 under his pillow. And before
you could say 'Strawberry Fodder, A monkey's Got er',' she disappeared!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">In all of that commotion, the dog strolled
in. He sniffed Joe's Dad, the sleeping cat, and must have thought that
the dust on them was some sort of fancy dog food, because he licked it, and
fell asleep!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">So Joe's dad had a sleeping cat on his
neck, a sleeping dog on his legs, and yucky, sticky magic dust on his face!
Joe thought that that was a pretty good punishment for stealing.
What a bad Dad he was being.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Suddenly, Tooth Fairy had reappeared. She had brought another Fairy with her. This Fairy looked like a Doctor
Fairy because she had a stethoscope hanging from her neck and she was wearing a
lab coat with holes in the back of it so her wings could poke out. She
began taking Joe's Dad's vitals; checking his pulse, processing blood work, and
cleaning out the ear wax from his ears.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">After writing down her notes, she suddenly
swooped down and into Joe's Dad's left ear! In she crawled until she
disappeared! Joe could see her travel further into his Dad's head because
her glow shone through his skin. When the glow reached the middle of his
head, his eyes opened. Joe couldn't hear anything, but Dr. Fairy must
have been speaking to him from inside his head. His face looked like
someone had him in a "stick up". He didn't dare make any false
moves.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">"No ma'am." His dad
answered the voice in his head.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">"Yes, I am very sorry. I am
most certainly not a good dad. Stealing from you and from Joe is wrong.
I will never do it again. I feel so much shame."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Now Joe could see tears in his eyes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">"Yes, I know. I know. He
is such a good boy. Yes, I will buy him his very own Sunland Golden
Hammers #63 Bob Maplesauce jersey." He whimpered.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">"Ok, yes, I will put the money I
stole into an account for Joe's College fund and I will buy him ice cream
whenever he asks."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">With that, the glow popped out of the left
ear. The 2 Fairy's looked over in Joe's direction, winked at him, and
then disappeared.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Joe didn't know what happened next because
all he could remember was waking up in his bed the next morning. He was
very tired. Leaning over he saw that the $200 was still there. The
rest of the room was empty. No dog, no cat, no fairies... and no Dad.
The shelf was fixed, the toys were in their right place. All seemed
well.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">It was the smell of bacon that drew Joe
out of the room and into the kitchen.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">And there he was; Joe's dad busy making
pancakes and bacon, pouring coffee for Joe's mom, and smiling away.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">"Hey, little Joe! Good morning!
Can I get you some pancakes? How about some crispy bacon?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black; font-family: "times"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Joe smiled big. "Dad, all I
really want is some ice cream."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br></div>
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Brett http://www.blogger.com/profile/10632343649661747519noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4480218591747722314.post-7467280075111422972016-05-05T10:29:00.000-07:002016-05-05T19:34:54.285-07:00Curious Little MiloMilo was a curious little boy. He was always getting into mischief. If he smelled freshly baked chocolate chip dream cookies, his nose would lead him around the house until it found the source. Then, when his big sister Kylo wasn't looking, Milo's nose would lead his hand up, up, into the jar, where it would snatch a cookie or two and carefully bring them back down and into his mouth. Both at the same time! He was sneaky like that.<br>
<br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVlrq-VmyAkytnz8ZZ-mF8leFmPKnMeWF4i-vqJHE2tizHt_zsOJWuChxE9DvCx8aTWvhhgG-v5Nz3GTS8qNhZK91DlQEAdfS8cqIdsn7k_m7Jj4M7I1otQcQItUDc7Vj_TewBo-jaus4/s1600/milo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVlrq-VmyAkytnz8ZZ-mF8leFmPKnMeWF4i-vqJHE2tizHt_zsOJWuChxE9DvCx8aTWvhhgG-v5Nz3GTS8qNhZK91DlQEAdfS8cqIdsn7k_m7Jj4M7I1otQcQItUDc7Vj_TewBo-jaus4/s320/milo.jpg" width="320"></a></div>
<br>
<br>
If his ears heard some strange sort of scratches, Milo would tilt his head and shuffle his way out of the house and into the yard. His feet would scurry this way and that, with his ear twitching and itching itself towards the source. When it finally settled on the fence, Milo would peer through the slots in the boards to see Mr. Humphrey sawing on some boards. Mr. Humphrey loved fixing things. He fixed his shed, then when he accidentally burned it down in an unfortunate barbecue accident, he built it back up again. On those hot days, Mr. Humphrey loved drinking lemonade. The good thing for Milo was that he also loved Lemonade. When Mr. H wasn't looking, Milo would slither over the fence like a sneaky snake, and sneak a couple of quick sips from his cup.<br>
<br>
While watching tv with his dad, Milo loved feeling the cushiness of the fluffy pillows piled high on the couch. His fingers would investigate the corduroy grooves, and would scratch at them until it sounded like fingers strumming on an old, beat up banjo. Zuppy, zup, zup. Zuppy, zup, zup.<br>
<br>
So, you see, Milo was quite keen on being aware of what was going on around him. This came in handy one deep, dark, night.<br>
<br>
One deep, dark, night, while Milo was sleeping in his bed, a splash of light began to shine across the wall in his room. Now, an ordinary boy his age would have just kept on sleeping, but Milo had the sense that something was going on and his eyes flicked open. To his amazement, just above his head, some little lightning bugs were dancing a jig.<br>
<br>
"Hey, what are you bugs doing in here?"<br>
<br>
"Excuse us, sir, but we were under the impression that you were fast, fast asleep. We did not mean to wake you."<br>
<br>
"Mmm, that's okay. But why are you in here and not outside?"<br>
<br>
"Oh, it is because your wall is the perfect wall for jig dancing."<br>
<br>
Milo squinted as he looked up to the wall. He didn't realize it until now, but the wall was definitely the perfect light dancing wall. It was big and white and... and, well that was all. No posters, no pictures, no shelves or switches. Just a big, blank wall.<br>
<br>
"We love your wall because it is so clean. So pure. It allows us to dance and sway our lights all through the room. Let us show you what we mean."<br>
<br>
Milo sat up as the bugs moved into their starting positions. There were 6 of them, and they all fluttered their way into the centre of the room. They held hands, but Milo could barely see this as their lights all slowly dimmed down until there was hardly any light at all. Milo was just about to point this out to them when suddenly BANG! Their lights boomed on all as one, casting a circular beam across the room and onto the wall. Their formation tilted and turned as the circular light turned and transformed into different shapes and sizes.<br>
<br>
Milo was amazed. The light seemed to be alive. One moment it looked like an ordinary circle, the next it resembled a pizza with a piece being taken out of it. Suddenly it was a T-Rex on the wall, clawing towards Milo, who jumped back under the covers of his bed. The bugs saw this and they immediately turned the T-Rex into a puppy dog. With Milo still cowering under the covers, the bugs began to bark and pant. <br>
<br>
Milo peaked out and then, when he saw the light puppy, he laughed and laughed. The puppy leaned on the wall towards Milo and tried to nip at his ear. Milo giggled, as even though the light could obviously not touch his ear, just the thought of it made it tickle.<br>
<br>
Finally, the bugs formed a circle again. They twisted, up, up, up until they hovered just beneath the ceiling, then bam! They all scattered and faded away. It was so dark now that Milo wasn't sure if they were still in his room.<br>
<br>
"Um, you bugs still here?"<br>
<br>
"Yes, sir!" a voice rose from the dark.<br>
<br>
"Do you guys think you could do that again? Or maybe you could show me another jig?"<br>
<br>
"Oh, I don't think so." Said the lead bug. "We must get going soon."<br>
<br>
"Oh, please... just maybe one tiny little bit of another dance?"<br>
<br>
"Well, okay. But only if you tell us your name."<br>
<br>
Milo knew he wasn't supposed to talk to strangers, but he also knew that he probably wasn't supposed to talk to Lightning bugs either, so he figured it would be okay.<br>
<br>
"I'm Milo."<br>
<br>
Suddenly, the bugs all lit up and formed a giant glowing hand. It reached out to shake Milo's. <br>
<br>
"Nice to meet ya', Milo. My name is Ziggy. These are my companions Miggy, Tiggy, Swiggy, Sliggy and Greg."<br>
<br>
Milo reached up for the hand, and to his surprise he could feel the warmth of it, as if it was a real hand that belonged to someone really big, like his Dad or a giant or maybe God or something. He gently pressed his fingers against the warmth and it felt like a nice, toasty mitten. Not sweaty or slimy like a clam or anything. Just a nice, warm, handshake. Like Milo was some sort of grown up making business deals with lawyers or something.<br>
<br>
"Ok, Milo. we could do another dance for you, or we could sing you a song."<br>
<br>
"Both! Both!" cheered Milo, wheeling and dealing at his best.<br>
<br>
"Okay, okay." conceded Ziggy.<br>
<br>
The bugs all came to the centre of the room again. The lights went out. Then Milo heard a small hum. Normal humans probably wouldn't be able to hear it, but Milo was no ordinary human. Remember, he had sneaky ears.<br>
<br>
The hum slowly built into a nice, dum, de-dum beat. The lights began to glow, this time in the form of a star. The bugs were probably screaming their words, but since they were so small, they just sounded nice and soft. Like a lullaby.<br>
<br>
"We sing and dance, we dance and we sing.<br>
we glow in the dark, and the light that we bring.<br>
Is a light that shines on down, shines on down to you.<br>
And when our light finally dies, some sleeping you must do.<br>
Oh.... some sleeping you must dooooooooo. Boop, boop, be-do."<br>
<br>
They sang it one more time....<br>
<br>
"We sing and dance, we dance and we sing.<br>
we glow in the dark, and the light that we bring.<br>
Is a light that shines on down, shines on down to you.<br>
And when our light finally dies, some sleeping you must do.<br>
Oh.... some sleeping you must dooooooooo."<br>
<br>
And just as Ziggy was going to lead the group into the 2nd verse about monsters and aliens, Miggy hushed them down.<br>
<br>
For down on the bed, all cuddled up tight in his blankets, was little Milo. All of his curious and sneaky little senses were all tuckered out. Milo was fast asleep.<br>
<br>
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<br>Brett http://www.blogger.com/profile/10632343649661747519noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4480218591747722314.post-18171333883535559952016-04-25T13:47:00.000-07:002016-05-02T15:39:41.126-07:00The Sound of the Cat's Coat<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhjlMhcG97hroxHkkDZ7EEdO2rd_6r5HRXX3mdoIKlH01qqbKEuSxbykKRCIAGAtd0YJpvrEjJq2zbQsTvXgofQeUFXBgUR6wOIVWNLWBlGLapWpkRyja8cE2Gxhp9FK6pI2E9gPPJ9hQ/s1600/CATSCOAT.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhjlMhcG97hroxHkkDZ7EEdO2rd_6r5HRXX3mdoIKlH01qqbKEuSxbykKRCIAGAtd0YJpvrEjJq2zbQsTvXgofQeUFXBgUR6wOIVWNLWBlGLapWpkRyja8cE2Gxhp9FK6pI2E9gPPJ9hQ/s320/CATSCOAT.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Marvin wasn't what you would call a 'fat cat', or a real 'big cheese' sort of feline. Yet cats from all around would do a double take whenever Marvin walked down the alley.<br />
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Marvin wasn't the coolest cat you ever saw. He wasn't a high jumper, or a fence leaper like some of those other daredevil cats. No, but the reason other cats knew for a fact that Marvin was 'all that' was his big and beautiful, super soft fur coat.<br />
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Marvin felt like a million bowls of fish flavoured cat food with that coat on. It was a deep red colour, with specks of orange and sparkly blue rubies sewn all over it. It flowed long and lean down his back, brushing against the sidewalk like a very satisfying back scratch. Marvin liked to pop the collar on his coat and just purr down the sidewalk without a care in the world.<br />
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">At home, Marvin would brush his coat with a brush made of golden bristles of softness. He would brush it 45 678 times each afternoon before his cat nap.</span><br />
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Marvin spent his days strolling the alley. Cat Alley was a pretty normal place, as far as alleys go. But when Marvin strolled by, cats took notice.<br />
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Little kittens playing yarn ball in the gutters would stop to stare. Teen cats would stop playing their game of Cattleship and stare. Sickly old grand cats would come up to him for prayer. Their eyes were getting dim, and they mistook the coat for a Friar's frock. He told them he didn't have healing powers, and advised them to just lick their wounds and hope for the best.</div>
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And maybe there weren't any magical powers in that coat. Maybe it was simply just a beautiful coat. Well, let's read on and find out.</div>
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One day, down at the Ol' Trashpile where all of cats would hang out, Marvin joined his catmates as they dug through the trash for yummy treasures. Delicious things like fish bones, broccoli soaked in garbage juice, tuna flavoured sour candies, or even Marvin's very favourite – old, smelly socks that smell of the smell of a thousand deadly smells that just plain stink. </div>
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Before Marvin got in there to dig around he was sure to carefully take his jacket off before hand, knowing that his mother did not want him to spill anything on it. He gently draped it over the steel rail that stuck out from the side of the large dumpster sitting next to the cans.<br />
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It was a dark and damp alley, but during the summer days <i>like today</i>, on particularly clear days <i>like this one</i>, at just the right time <i>like now</i>, for just the smallest moment <i>like this one</i>, the sun would peak its way into the alley and down all the way to the dumpster. </div>
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And that's what happened today!<br />
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With the sunshine, Marvin's coat lit up like an explosion of Fireworks!</div>
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The blue rubies twinkled and shone like nothing any cat in Cat Alley had ever seen before. Cats from all around him stopped chewing on their garbage treats. Cats licking themselves stopped licking themselves. Other cats gathered around admiring the amazing robe of light. It was too beautiful for words.</div>
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News quickly spread and cats from all around the neighbourhood began to arrive at the radiant spot. Soon<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> enough, local cats started to see the benefit of having such a spectacle in their alley. It became a tourist attraction. And like most tourist attractions, there was big bucks to be made.</span></div>
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Lou Cat, a rather hip cat, begun selling sunglasses to those who needed a little protection from the light. "My shades are all the rage, man!" He would say to no one in particular, waving the glasses in the air to prospective customers</div>
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Marge Cat, the chatty cat of the community, brought a megaphone out and began to announce all sorts of interesting things about the coat. "Dis here coat is made of the finest silks of North Arabia, don't ya' know?!" She would holler. Marvin didn't have the guts to tell her that there is no such place as North Arabia because Marge Cat was known for clawing cats that disagreed with her.</div>
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Gerry Cat sat next to the coat, closed his eyes, and fell asleep. Other cats joined him and soon enough the area was a full on cat nap zone.</div>
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The coat continued to sparkle. Tears filled the eyes of those closest to it. They weren't sad tears, but tears of joy. The light just seemed to be getting stronger and stronger. </div>
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A small group of artists began to paint pictures of the coat. The array of colours they had splashed on the canvas looked pale and dull compared to the real thing. Frustrated, the cats would break their paintings over their little cat knees and start over, determined to capture the essence of the coat.<br />
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Milky Cat, the Philosophical cat, had a small gathering around him as he orchestrated a debate about whether or not the coat had some sort of meaning that which portrayed an aura of logical illusions of solar reproduction.</div>
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Perry Cat, the poet cat from the next alley over, prepared and delivered a poem:</div>
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"The sun spoke, to the folk, </div>
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Who crawl and claw, near the coat.</div>
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My eyes look, my heart it took</div>
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For the coat of coats, I'd cross the moat</div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">Of love</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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This old cat, loves fish and that,</div>
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But be close to me, thus mine coat</div>
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Of dreams."</div>
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Cats all around applauded the great rhymes by clicking their claws together.</div>
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The party was wild. What a day in Cat Alley! Friends and family from the other side of town, reunited with their loved ones. Cat gangs put down their weapons and declared it a day of peace and reconciliation. </div>
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A trapeze of acrocats showed up out of nowhere, diving down from the walls and windows, swinging on the clothes lines strung between. Cat-flips, cat-stands, cat-wheels – the whole kitten caboodle! The crowd applauded. The little kittens dreamed dreams.</div>
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The old timers hadn't seen the alley this hoppin' since the days of the great fish truck stall of '99. What a time to be alive!</div>
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In all of the excitement and commotion no one heard the strange noise but Gerry, who sat closest to the coat. His eyes popped open.<br />
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"Shhhhh!" He called out.</div>
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But the good times kept rolling.</div>
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"Quiet!!!" He hollered.</div>
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Silence.</div>
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"You hear that?"</div>
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A small sound seemed to be coming from near the coat. Marvin put down his smelly sock cocktail and moved in close. The sound was in fact coming from his coat! </div>
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Yes, If you squinted hard enough, and turned your good ear close enough, you would be able to make out some sort of song flowing out of the coat, like chimes in the wind. No! More like angels pouring out purple flavoured melodies of an ancient hymn. </div>
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A murmur floated over the crowd. Some were too far away to hear anything. <br />
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Marvin quieted the crowd with a raised paw. </div>
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Marge's megaphone squeaked one last time as she dropped it to the ground.</div>
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Those cats with sunglasses lowered them in a quizzical, slow-motion kind of way.</div>
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Nothing could be heard but the distant traffic rolling through the city streets. They all waited, whiskers twitched, and their tails silently tamping the damp concrete. </div>
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They waited... and waited... deeper into the silence they fell... their restraint was the stuff of cat legends. Their patience, a holy act.<br />
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And suddenly, there it was again. The music of light, filling the air with it's distant ring, like a small bell calling the cats to dinner... or maybe prayer. The community basked in the beauty of the sound. Their tails patted the ground in unison. That dungy old alley, for that brief moment, was holy ground.<br />
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Then somebody burped.<br />
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"Bruno!!!"<br />
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Bruno, the biggest cat of them all, hobbled over with a big can of Cat Cola in his paw and, through no fault of his own, accidentally stood in the way of the sunshine, snuffing out the beautiful and raw wonder of the coat.<br />
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"Hey, what's everybody lookin' at?" said Bruno, as his shadow blocked the 'Corium de Cattus', as Latin cats would later come to label the historic event.<br />
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"Bruno! Move out of the way!" They shouted. But it would be too late, for the moment had passed. The music faded, the glory of the blue rubies fizzled out. It was as if it was all a dream. Marvin looked around at the other cats.</div>
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"Way to go, Bruno! Doing what ya' always do." Cried Rusty the Rat. The cats thought it was mighty generous of them all to let him hang out with them, so some were a little annoyed with his complaining. Billy Cat picked up Rusty by the tail and punted him to the curb like a football. Rusty landed on a pile of old newspaper, rubbing his backside and thinking about what a mean rat he was being.</div>
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Yet others agreed with him. "Bruno, why are you such a klutzy cat? </div>
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"Dunno. I'm not trying to be. Just wanna know what you guys are up to."</div>
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Professor Snorgglecat chimed in. "Dah, just the most breathtaking display of solar jusxtsposation, complex acute catricity, that will rule in catish lore for ages into which our great grand cats will only be able to speculate of its verified truthfulness."</div>
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"Oh, um. Sorry, I think."</div>
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With that, all of the cats went their separate ways. All but Marvin and Milky... and Bruno, who was trying to figure out what juxaposation means. He also felt very sad with his hurt feelings spilling out of his eyes and drip-dropping into his soda pop.</div>
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Marvin and Milky understood what had happened. What they had been witness to. It was something that no Bruno burp could ever take away from them, no matter how loud and smelly. They would cherish it for their whole 9 lives.</div>
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Marvin looked at Bruno, the clumsy but lovable cat, and knew what he needed to do. He reached for his coat, and took his wallet and cell phone out of the pocket. He didn't notice at the time but his cell phone had two missed calls on it. And if he did notice the 2 missed calls he would remember that he changed his ring tone that morning to "Holy Angelic, Purple Beauty of Wonder", a ring tone song he had received for free with a 2 year fixed term phone plan. </div>
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After feeling the smooth fur in his hands one last time, he threw the coat over Bruno's shoulders.</div>
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Bruno's sad puppy dog eyes turned into big happy, well-would-you-look-at-that cat eyes. He smiled at Marvin and Marvin gave him the go ahead.</div>
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Bruno waltzed down the road in his shiny new coat. <br />
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"Hey Bruno! Not half bad!" Came a shout from across the way. <br />
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"Brunoooo, you da' cat, man!" rang the voice of Lou Cat.<br />
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For once, Bruno would feel like a million bowls of fish flavoured cat food.</div>
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"Hey, isn't that your favourite coat?" Milky asked Marvin.</div>
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Marvin thought about it for a moment.</div>
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"Yeah, maybe, but there's more to life than just waltzing around the alley in some ol' piece of fur."<br />
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We know that the magical song in the coat was just a free ring tone, but you know what? Marvin and Bruno don't. They still believe that this coat is the most amazing coat in the whole wide world of cats. It may not be true, but that's okay with me if it's okay with you.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6b4nlpcnia4PVNYIDN8TYqCENd6fRajqJHL7uUZ5p6YJl91HQ7ej15KO5EAaKML-A-A141YvHVQaIeskduXWsIi8L7XiJevtp9MKs7zMXlzRUFWpunqxoCzfHLJ6hbJN922YErv9kiQQ/s1600/Marvin.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6b4nlpcnia4PVNYIDN8TYqCENd6fRajqJHL7uUZ5p6YJl91HQ7ej15KO5EAaKML-A-A141YvHVQaIeskduXWsIi8L7XiJevtp9MKs7zMXlzRUFWpunqxoCzfHLJ6hbJN922YErv9kiQQ/s320/Marvin.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Miles drawing Marvin with the coat</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtoSuVwzzQ7tmSnbAGJuBbmYPVSfQLL31wHIKNx41OMgf9JH96AQztBbz1SCpWQAyXN3zC3HcVqRI3Nwir8W3VOcah2609kX1yYCOdk0hOGZc2krHLO6yzEB-1bR_-f3TyxcSQjpRZFKQ/s1600/bruno.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtoSuVwzzQ7tmSnbAGJuBbmYPVSfQLL31wHIKNx41OMgf9JH96AQztBbz1SCpWQAyXN3zC3HcVqRI3Nwir8W3VOcah2609kX1yYCOdk0hOGZc2krHLO6yzEB-1bR_-f3TyxcSQjpRZFKQ/s320/bruno.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sad Bruno before he got to wear the coat</td></tr>
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Brett http://www.blogger.com/profile/10632343649661747519noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4480218591747722314.post-82305520126427900012016-04-18T15:14:00.001-07:002016-04-26T19:32:46.198-07:00What's His Face?<br>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilFjudW_5fl2rQPgImwXrAsM40NMBtndUXiEDr1r4sfo9qbC_uoqyzGPAhCM86B07klqTSqnvUCONRE3c8XyNLXZCLCdgTk541Ug-Hm9J-yz0H0eA76Um_RWCMAy_Yl8wyamG2LtiuVN0/s1600/what%2527s+his+face.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilFjudW_5fl2rQPgImwXrAsM40NMBtndUXiEDr1r4sfo9qbC_uoqyzGPAhCM86B07klqTSqnvUCONRE3c8XyNLXZCLCdgTk541Ug-Hm9J-yz0H0eA76Um_RWCMAy_Yl8wyamG2LtiuVN0/s320/what%2527s+his+face.jpg" width="320"></a></div>
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This story is What's It Called. No, that's not a question, that's what it's called. I was trying to think of a better name, and I thought of one, but then I forgot. So it's what's it called. Actually, it's about What's his face, so maybe that's what I'll call it.<br>
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Now, one day What's it called was broken. What's his face noticed that What's it called was broken because it's thing-a-ma-jiggers were scattered all over the place. There were do-dad's up in the trees, and springy things springing all around the flower beds. What's his face could not figure out what had happened, or what to do with What's it called.<br>
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Now, I should explain. What's his face was a very unique boy. He had the biggest moustache you have ever seen for such a boy. The problem was that his name was impossible to pronounce, so impossible that I decided just to call him What's his face.<br>
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Anyway, What's his face had a big problem with What's it called because of all of the thing-a-ma jiggers and thing-a-ma-bobbers all over the place. With all of the people walking around, staring at What's his face and all of the What's it called all over the place, What's his face could only think of one thing to do. He picked it up and placed it in the back of the ordinary looking truck parked next to him.<br>
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Now, the ordinary looking truck was no ordinary looking truck! It had big shiny lights in the shape and colour of a million bubble gum flavours. It had an automatic licorice dispensing machine sitting in the back, and it had tires that sparkled with the dust of a thousand sparkly dusty things. In short, this ordinary truck was very out of the ordinary. It also had a driver and her name was Vanessa Ice Cream.<br>
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Once What's his face had placed What's it called inside of the ordinary van, he got out of the ordinary van and shut the door tight. With the click of the door handle, the ordinary van started hopping and bopping down the road in quite a strange and out of the ordinary fashion.<br>
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First of all, it was driving backwards! Second of all, the door flew open. Third of all, What's it called fell out and spilled do-dads and thingys all over the road!<br>
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The biggest Problem was that Vanessa Ice Cream didn't notice that What's it called had fallen out! She was too busy listening to the radio; listening to her favourite song, What's the name of that song again? She knew every word. You know that song, right? It goes like this?<br>
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Do, be do be do.... Do, be do be da... something, something, something, cause I looooooooove you!<br>
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Do you know What's the name of that song again, too? Oh, it sure is great and the words are so deep, they make me very emotional. Such a great song!<br>
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Well, maybe too great because... remember... Vanessa Ice Cream was dancing and bopping in the ordinary truck and a rather extraordinary way, all the while the What's it called was just laying there on the ground, like a big pile of What Cha Ma Call it.<br>
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What's his face tried the best he could to help.<br>
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"Vanessa Ice Cream! Vanessa Ice Cream! The What's it called has fallen out of the ordinary truck! Drive forwards and get it! Drive forwards, will ya?!<br>
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Cause you need to remember that, at this point, the truck was going backwards. That's what ordinary trucks do, I guess. And this was no ordinary ordinary truck, that's for sure.<br>
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Vanessa couldn't hear him. her favourite part of What's the name of that song again was coming up.<br>
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Do, be do be do.... Do, be do be da... something, something, something, cause I looooooooove you!<br>
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What's his face was worried. With What's it called sitting there on the ground it was available for anyone to take. He didn't want it to fall into the wrong hands. <br>
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But he seemed to have spoken too late, for just as What's his face was about to run after the What's it called, Mr. & Mrs. Wrong Hands had appeared from around the corner. They were a very nice couple, been married for a long time, but they had never been able to own a What's it called. Mrs. Wrong Hands had put it on her Birthday wish list, but Mr. Wrong Hands didn't know how to read, so he could never read it and buy one for her.<br>
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Anyway, once they saw the What's it called, The Wrong Hands ran after it. What's his face ran too, they both ran. They ran, ran, ran! Who would make it first?<br>
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Well, a strange thing happened, wouldn't you know. There must have been some springy things still left in the What's it called because just before What's his face could get to it it sprung up into the air and landed in another tree. What's his face started to shake the tree, back and forth, and The Wrong Hands helped him as it was a very large tree.<br>
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Suddenly, the What's it called fell into the Wrong Hands Hands. What's his face was terrified. He was sure that the Wrong Hands would take it away and he would never see it again.<br>
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Just then, Vanessa Ice Cream came roaring back up the road, this time going forward. There were 3 cop cars behind her, and they pulled her over. <br>
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It turned out that all they wanted was some licorice, but when they realized that What's it called had fallen into the Wrong Hands the cops told everyone to freeze!<br>
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"Is that what I think it is?" asked the first officer, who by the way was rudely chewing loudly on his licorice.<br>
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"Yes, it is!" Said What's his face. "I was trying to fix it but all of the thingys and do-hickys keep falling out!"<br>
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"We've always wanted one." pleaded the Wrong Hands.<br>
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"Ha, well, and I've always wanted my very own a Something or Other but I don't think that's going to happen any time soon, now is it" responded one of the other cops.<br>
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They all agreed. It seemed very unlikely, and unfair, that a cop could never own his very own Something or Other.<br>
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"Weph, I jus' mink tis begongs im va gushesum."<br>
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Everyone looked at the cop rudely chewing on his licorice. He realized his rudeness, apologized, and repeated himself.<br>
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"Sorry, I just think it belongs in the museum."<br>
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Of course, thought What's his face. The museum was the perfect place for What's it called. That way everyone could enjoy it, and with the police officers help, it would never fall into the Wrong Hands again.<br>
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That very afternoon the whole town of Where? gathered together at the museum. What's his face held What's it called up in the air for all to see. Everyone cheered as he passed it over to the Mayor, Mayor Mayor, over the outstretched hands of The Wrong Hands. The sad couple soon realized that it was for the best. That inside the museum all could enjoy, all could celebrate... What's it called!<br>
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<br>Brett http://www.blogger.com/profile/10632343649661747519noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4480218591747722314.post-85340315844789814862016-04-14T11:01:00.001-07:002016-04-26T19:42:48.728-07:00The Mad Scientist - A Bedtime Story for Kids.It was the end of a long and lazy Saturday for Simon. He'd been outside riding his bike around the block, splashing in the puddles from the rain that had fallen the night before. After a hearty lunch of instant noodles, grilled cheese, and a big, fat pickle, Simon decided to look over his favourite hockey cards.<br>
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Browsing through the cards, he came across his favourite players: Buddy Splunder, left winger for the Golden Turtles, Mikael Radavoyinovskiloshovic (Rad-ah-voy-in-off-ski-low-sh-vic), a tough as nails defender for the last place Clammy Spiders. There was Dave Bucketsauce, a goalie for Simon's favourite team, The Flying Saucers. They weren't very good, but Dave had a great glove hand and was really nice to his teammates. After practice, the other players would often find notes of encouragement from Dave, along with some freshly baked chocolate chip brownies. <br>
<br>
Oh, yes. Dave was a great guy. And for Simon, it didn't get any better than when Dave Bucketsauce was on the ice! Simon was so sad when, a few years ago, Bucketsauce had to retire. He had already played a long time in the league, and now he would play sometimes with other older players for fun. Whenever those players would come to town, Simon would always get his dad to buy a ticket for him.<br>
<br>
On the back of the cards there was often little notes about each player. Simon would read these notes to help to get to know the players a little bit better:<br>
<br>
• Mikael's favourite food was cheeseburgers with peanut butter and bacon jam.<br>
<br>
• Buddy Splunder once sailed on a pirate ship across the Bermuda Triangle. He made it through, but just barely. The lighthouse workers found Buddy on his ship, passed out from the terrible journey. When Buddy awoke he discovered that he was now left handed and he was fluent in Portuguese. The language didn't help him that much at first, but a left handed left winger was just what coach Skipper LeBarge was looking for. Buddy quickly became one of the best scorers in the league, and spent most of his summers off leading tour groups down to the remote parts of Brazil.<br>
<br>
Simon flipped over Bucketsauce's card and soon realized, to his amazement, that he had never, ever read the back of his card. This is what it read:<br>
<br>
"David Pewter Bucketsauce grew up in Stony Plain, Alberta. His favourite subject in school was Science, where he learned from the great science teacher, and former Amazing Hockey League Superstar Sandra McGarnickle. Bucketsauce says he learned all his moves from McGarnickle, as she taught him Gym class as well."<br>
<br>
Simon had to rub his eyes and read that again, so he did:<br>
<br>
"David Pewter Bucketsauce grew up in Stony Plain, Alberta. His favourite subject in school was Science, where he learned from the great science teacher, and former Amazing Hockey League Superstar Sandra McGarnickle. Bucketsauce says he learned all his moves from McGarnickle, as she taught him Gym class as well."<br>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
Simon couldn't believe it! Do you want to know why? Well, there are 3 reasons why:</div>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
1. Simon was also from Stony Plain, Alberta. In fact, he still lived there. </div>
<div>
2. Simon's Grandma was a science teacher in Stony Plain a long time ago.</div>
<div>
3. Simon's last name was McGarnickle. The same as his Grandma's, whose name was Sandra.</div>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
So... Sandra McGarnickle was Simon's Grandma! She had passed away when Simon was very young, so he didn't know her very well, but wow! He had no idea that she played in the Amazing Hockey League. </div>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
Simon threw his cards down and ran into the front yard to ask his mom about it. She was outside planting some flowers. To Simon, some of them smelled nice like roses and candy. Others smelled like mothballs, dirty dirt, and rotting leaves with rotting leaves rotting on top of them.</div>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
"Mom, how come you never told me that Grandma was in the AHL?!"</div>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
Simon's mom smiled. "I was wondering when you were going to figure that out. I knew that her name was all over your hockey cards. I'm surprised it took you this long to find it."</div>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
Simon thought for a moment. He had so many hockey cards (at least 412) that he didn't have time to read them all; just his favourites. "Oh, well, yeah, I guess I should have. I can't believe it! This is the coolest thing ever!"</div>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
Simon's mom leaned in close. "You want to know something? I'm pretty sure we have a box somewhere out in the garage that has a whole bunch of her stuff. Do you want to go and see if we could find it?"</div>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
But Simon was already gone, flying around the yard and through the garage door. Inside he stared up at the giant wall of shelves. Simon was a pretty little guy, so it was hard to see all the way up to the top of the shelves. He once tried climbing up them, but got scared at about the 4th shelf. He was pretty sure there were about 1000 shelves, even though his mom knew that there were only 8.</div>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
"Okay, okay, just a sec. Let me see here." Simon's mom grabbed a small ladder and climbed up to see to the top of the shelves. "Ah, yes, this looks like the right one."</div>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
She pulled out the dusty, worn out cardboard. The handles looked too weak for her to use, so she gently cradled it under her arm as she stepped back down.</div>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
Together they carried it into the house and placed it down on the living room floor. </div>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
Simon couldn't wait any longer. He threw open the lid. Dust filled the air, but only for a moment. Inside the box, right on the top, was a worn out and faded hockey jersey. The colours were that of the legendary Mt. Fling Slippery Frogs! What hockey fan could ever forget that memorable goal that Frog legend Skrive Lightbulb scored to win the Championship Cup back in 1994? Simon must have watched the clip a thousand times on the Internet. He flipped the sweater over to reveal the number 10 and his very own last name on the top!</div>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
"Wow! Coooooool! Grandma was a Slippery Frog!" Tears welled up in Simon's eyes, but just for a moment. He felt so much pride, for his Great Grandma, and now for the #10. Simon had always been #25, but from now on he wanted to be just like his Grandma. </div>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
"Try it on." His mom told him. Simon lifted the Gold and Orange sweater over his head and pushed his arms through. It flopped down like a dress, but Simon didn't care. He ran to the mirror, turned around and saw his name... his number. Wow!</div>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
"There's more in here, Simon." He ran back to see big pile of things: Some hockey socks, some special Slippery Frog hockey tape, complete with their trademark "Outrageous Orange" lucky checker pattern. He found a trophy that his Grandma had won when she played Jr. Hockey in Scarlet town, playing for the Lodge Mart Vinyl Sidings. They were named after their top sponsor, Lodge Mart, which specialized in selling Barbecues, lawn furniture, and really, really big chocolate bars. Grandma Sandra had been the team's top rookie in 1987.</div>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
Simon also found some of his Grandma's hockey cards, one for each year that she had played. Altogether Grandma Sandra had played from 1992-2009, a total of 17 seasons, all with the Slippery Frogs. Wow! </div>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
Simon was born in 2008, so she had even played when he was just a baby. Amazing!</div>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
For the next several hours, Simon poured over his Grandma's cards, being extra careful as he turned them over to read the back.</div>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
Sandra McGarnickle • Right Wing • Slippery Frogs</div>
<div>
1997-1998 </div>
<div>
Goals • 28</div>
<div>
Assists • 37</div>
<div>
Points • 65</div>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
"When Sandra's not playing hockey, she's in the school, teaching kids about Science. He favourite thing to teach about is bugs, and how crazy bugs are. Her students think that she is very cool. Her students have a nickname for her, they call her The Mad Scientist."</div>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
Sandra McGarnickle • Right Wing • Slippery Frogs</div>
<div>
2001-2002</div>
<div>
Goals • 37</div>
<div>
Assists • 48</div>
<div>
Points • 85</div>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
"This season, Sandra had the best point totals of her career. She credits her high numbers to eating a lot of good, healthy vegetables, lots of rock climbing, and most importantly, always watching the sports highlights in the mornings before school."</div>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
<div>
Sandra McGarnickle • Right Wing • Slippery Frogs</div>
<div>
2008-2009</div>
<div>
Goals • 21</div>
<div>
Assists • 24</div>
<div>
Points • 45</div>
</div>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
"McGarnickle has decided that this will be her last season in the Amazing Hockey League. She is looking forward to spending more time doing other things with her time, like collecting seashells, painting her garden fence like a rainbow, smelling flowers, riding her bike through puddles after it had rained the night before, and most importantly, spending some time with her new Grandson, Simon."</div>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
He couldn't believe it! She had talked about him to the hockey card people! His name was on the card! He was famous! Just like his Grandma! Wow!</div>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
Simon also thought it was really cool that his Grandma also liked to splash through puddles after it had rained the night before. He really, really liked that.</div>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
For a moment, sadness came over Simon. He wished he would have been able to know his Grandma. She had been such a cool lady, and it seems like they would have had a lot in common. Simon wanted to talk to her, to ask her what it was like to play in the AHL, to see what it was like to play for the Slippery Frogs and even with the great Dave Bucketsau... wait a second!!!</div>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
Simon dashed through the living room, grabbed his mom's tablet, and went on to Hockeytube. He searched up his favourite Slippery Frogs video, the game winning goal for Skrive Lightbulb. And it was there... How could Simon have been so blind?.... how could he have never seen it before?...<br>
<br>
Simon pressed 'play' on the video and all at once the announcer's voice echoed throughout the room.</div>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
"The game is tied at 3 with only seconds to play. The 1994 Championship Cup is on the line tonight. Who will win? The Mt. Fling Slippery Frogs or the defending Champions, the Twirly Darts of St. Luca De Boca? </div>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
The faceoff is in the Dart's zone. Rookie Skrive Lightbulb is out there to take the draw. He wins it! The puck comes back to DeLantain. He holds it, moves it across to Buttersworth. Buttersworth passes it back to DeLantain. Only 4 seconds to go, They need to get a shot here!</div>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
Yes, DeLantain lets a wrist shot go, it hits a body in front and bounces around. The Mad Scientist get's her stick on it and pokes it through to Lightbulb, he shoots, he scores!!!!! Frogs win! Frogs win! What a play by the Mad Scientist! What a player! What a Champion!"</div>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
Simon still couldn't believe it. He turned to see his mother by the doorway, smiling brightly at her son learning about his amazing Grandma.<br>
<br>
It was a long and lazy Saturday for Simon, that is, until he met the legend that is: The Mad Scientist.</div>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
<br></div>
Brett http://www.blogger.com/profile/10632343649661747519noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4480218591747722314.post-2082411821813715182016-03-24T09:47:00.000-07:002016-04-26T20:01:06.157-07:00Brian the Lamp - a bedtime story for kids<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I've been singing, reading, and acting out all kinds of performances for my kids before bedtime. I started singing to them about 4 years ago and through the years, though I've missed many nights, I'm pretty sure I've sang them every single song I know off by heart. </div>
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Even The Beastie Boys' Sabotage, bleeped out where it needs to be, of course.</div>
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After the songs I started a little act with their stuffed animals and called it "Puppy Songs". The dogs would come out and tell stories and jokes. Kind of like a variety show, but with fake animals. I knew the trigger, the way to get my kids to laugh. It usually had something to do with some sort of incorrect word, or the way the puppies would fall down off of the bed 'by accident' and crawl back up as a tangled mess. Singing Oh Canada with 'barks' and 'ruffs' instead of words is another way the puppies and I could leave the boys in stitches.</div>
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Yet, eventually our act grew a little stale. I decided to browse the Internet for some unique and fun bedtimes stories. We discovered Gordon Dioxide and life was good for a few weeks. His stories are straight sideways, and my boys love them. Unfortunately, there are only so many of them. </div>
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I searched for more good stories like Dioxide's but came up with nothing. I'm sure there is good stuff out there, as in free and handy on the Internet, but I also thought that I should give writing up a story a shot.</div>
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Last night I tested this story on the boys, not telling them that I wrote it, and they loved it. In fact, Jonas seemed to be shocked and amazed that I could do such a thing. Miles responded by immediately making up a story of his own about how his dad had wrote a bedtime story. </div>
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Anyway, here it is. Please read it with your kids and let me know what you think. If you are an editor or a stickler for grammar please excuse me for the flaws.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJxm8a8nF38WgVlQSzJUikqg2BGMnDotLRVjtwCKZmlJ8CCJwzZB8XFzM58XIT_bWBvzf57lXLaLkpfm165LzdrlNkHZgu6PZMnum-MO3MsLzkYtXwa7zv7VR40524aZ8XCrTw7HTqCu0/s1600/brian.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJxm8a8nF38WgVlQSzJUikqg2BGMnDotLRVjtwCKZmlJ8CCJwzZB8XFzM58XIT_bWBvzf57lXLaLkpfm165LzdrlNkHZgu6PZMnum-MO3MsLzkYtXwa7zv7VR40524aZ8XCrTw7HTqCu0/s200/brian.jpg" width="200"></a></div>
<br>
<br>
There once was a Brian named Lamp... Wait, that's not right. There once was a Brain named Lump. Wait, that's not right either! Okay, here it is in simplest form... Brian was a lamp. There, that makes sense.<br>
<div>
<br></div>
<div>
Brian was a lamp that lived on the bedside table of Charlie's Grandma. Charlie isn't really in this story that much. He's a really fun guy, but he just doesn't have much to say in this one. Maybe I'll tell a story about him later. No, this story is all about Brian the lamp, who lives on that table I was telling you about.<br>
<br>
Now, the thing you need to know about Charlie's Grandma is that she wasn't very well. You know, sometimes Grandmas can get sick sometimes. For some Grandmas, getting sick can mean a long time of resting, drinking stuff like water or ginger ale, and, of course, sleeping in their bed. Well, since Charlie's Grandma was sick, she spent a lot of time sleeping in her bed. <br>
<br>
This was a very wise thing to do, but the problem with this was that it left Brian in the dark. He spent a lot of time in the dark. And for a lamp, that's not much fun.<br>
<br>
On one particularly sicky-sick day, Charlie's Grandma was again sleeping soundly in her bed. I say sleeping because she was in bed, but let me tell you, she was NOT sleeping. She tossed and turned most of the time, wiggling herself back and forth trying to get comfortable and cozy. And when I say that she slept soundly, I mean she made a lot of sounds! She would hack and cough every few seconds, and sneeze some achoos here and there. All the while Brian was standing there like a silly Christmas tree in the middle of July! Brian was not needed. Nothing to do but nothing.<br>
<br>
And as you might already know, doing nothing all day isn't much fun.<br>
<br>
Brian needed to find something to do. At one point, while he was sure Charlie's Grandma was fast asleep, Brian built up enough courage to turn his light on, just for a moment. The darkness was interrupted by an intense beam shooting straight out of Brian's nose!<br>
<br>
And because it was his nose, and because he hadn't used his light in a long, long time, some dust had gotten into there and he felt a big sneeze coming on! He tried and he tried to hold back the sneezer. His light flickered and fluttered, dancing on the far wall of the room. The temperature seemed to go up for Brian as the light shone on and on, sizzling and fizzling inside of his head.<br>
<br>
And finally Brian couldn't hold on any longer. As he wiggled his way to keeping it inside, the Sneeze would have none of it. <br>
<br>
BAAA CHOOZERS!!!<br>
<br>
With that, Brian shot off of the table and into the air. His cord snapped free of the wall, and down he came on the cushy carpeted floor!<br>
<br>
His light was out, and it wasn't just from the cord being out of the wall. No, from the looks of it things were much, much worse. You see, laying in front of Brian was his bulb, broken into a gazillion tiny pieces. His sneeze had twisted the bulb right out of his nose! What a disaster!<br>
<br>
Oh, but what about Charlie's Grandma?!<br>
<br>
Well, it just so happens that Brian didn't even hear a wiggle or a peep coming from way up on the bed. She was finally fast asleep. <br>
<br>
Brian got up and shook off the dangerous bulb glass. He had to feel around with his cord as he moved through the room in the dark. The only thing Brian could see was a long, long crack of light coming from under the door. He shimmied and wobbled his way to the light. <br>
<br>
He crouched down as far as he could and peered out into the hallway. It was a pretty normal hallway, as hallways often are. It had some doors going into other rooms, and some nice soft carpet, and some stairs way at the end of it with a big, fat cat sleeping at the top of them and some.... wait, what did I just say?! A Big? Fat? Hat? Oh, no?! Not a hat! A Cat!!!<br>
<br>
Brian had some thinking to do. Brian thought best with his bulb, but since it was broken on the floor all he could do was think of these few things he needed to do. <br>
<br>
#1 Clean up the bulb. He needed a broom or a vacuum. The vacuum was probably in the closet at the end of the hall, right next to the cat! He also needed hands to use a broom or a vacuum, but he would worry about that later.<br>
<br>
#2 He needed to get back up on that table. It was high! He would need some sort of climby thingy. What is that thing called again? A fladder? Bladder? Oh, Brian was frustrated. Without his thinking bulb he COULD NOT think of that word. Anyway, he needed one of those things, whatever it's called. He also needed hands to climb up that thing, but he would worry about that later.<br>
<br>
#3 This idea came to him while thinking of what that climby thing is called. Brian needed to escape! He needed a way out! With Charlie's Grandma sick all of the time, there wasn't much use for Brian here. Brian needed a new life. In his new life Brian would need hands, but he would worry about that later.<br>
<br>
The big question now was, where should he start?!<br>
<br>
However, before Brian could decide anything, things started to happen! He heard the squeaky, creaky noise of someone coming down the hall!<br>
<br>
Quickly, Brian scooted and tooted his way over towards the table. There was no time! Brian could hear the doorknob turning! Screeeppp (That's the sound of the door opening) Brian dropped to the floor next to the broken bulb. He dropped to the floor just like those toy fellows did in that toy movie. That movie about that story about those toys... what's it called? Brian couldn't remember.<br>
<br>
It was Charlie at the door! Charlie had come to check on his Grandma. Charlie came around the side of the bed to turn on Brian's light, but of course Brian was laying on the floor. Charlie couldn't see this and he almost stepped right on top of Brian's face!<br>
<br>
Well, that would have been bad. But what was just as bad was Charlie stepped right on the broken bulb with his bare foot! Crunchhherrs!<br>
<br>
Owezicles and pop bottles! Charlie shouted. He hopped back towards the door and fell into it. The door, however, was cracked open a little bit and Charlie fell through the doorway and onto the hallway floor. Brian couldn't do a thing. He just lay there, thinking of poor Charlie's foot.<br>
<br>
Suddenly, that cat came walking by. It nuzzled up to Charlie as he sat up, rubbing his bonked head and holding his bloody foot. In all the commotion, something unexpected happened – Charlie's Grandma woke up!<br>
<br>
Charlie's Grandma slowly leaned up in her bed. She reached for Brian, who wasn't there, and when she realized this a strange, puzzled look came over her face. She fumbled around for her glasses, put them on her face, and got up to go to the bathroom across the hall. When she saw Charlie sitting on the floor with the blood, and the bonk, and the cat, she had to ask the most obvious question any human being has ever had to ask.<br>
<br>
What happened to you?<br>
<br>
Charlie got up and told his Grandma that Brian's bulb was broken and he was laying on the floor, only Charlie just called Brian the lamp since lamps and humans do not interact. His Grandma turned on the big light in the room, and everyone squinted from this brightness, even the cat. Even that silly cat.<br>
<br>
Charlie's Grandma helped Charlie up, and sat him down on the bed. Brian peaked up out of the corner of his eye to see that Charlie's foot wasn't too bloody. Just a little bit, and it was easy enough for Charlie's Grandma to grab some band aids from the bathroom and patch him up good as new!<br>
<br>
The next thing that happened was amazing. It was so amazing you are going to love it. So lovely that you are going to want to kiss it. So kissy that you are going to want to jump up and down. So jump up and downy that you are going to just be happy.<br>
<br>
Here's what happened.<br>
<br>
Charlie's Grandma picked up Brian and put him back on the bedside table while Charlie went and got the vacuum from the end of the hallway. In no time flat, the broken bulb was all cleaned up. Charlie also brought in a shiny new bulb for Brian. Things were happening! Brian's "to-do" list was being checked off left, right and centre! The floor was clean, and he was back up on the table, and he didn't even need to use a ... ladder! That's what it's called. Brian's bright mind was working again, thanks to his shiny new bulb.<br>
<br>
After everything was settled, Charlie's Grandma said that she was feeling much, much better. She asked Charlie if he thought it would be a good idea for her to get out and get some fresh air. Charlie agreed. However, Charlie also wanted to make a special area downstairs in the living room for his Grandma to rest and recover a bit more. She said that sounded delightful!<br>
<br>
So here's what Charlie did. He grabbed his Grandma's hand, and Brian! Why did he grab Brian?! Well, I'll tell ya!<br>
<br>
Charlie took his Grandma and Brian down the stairs. He sat his Grandma on the couch and then positioned Brian up high on the shelf next to her. He plugged him in and turned on his bulb. The room lit up like a sunrise! Wow, what a light! It turned out that Brian's new bulb was 100 watts! That's way, way, brighter than his old 40 watter. He was a new lamp! New ideas, new thoughts, deeper vision for his life rushed in through the bulb and into Brian's mind. <br>
<br>
Unicycling! Skydiving! World Travelling! Cookie baking! Brian could imagine all sorts of fun adventures he could go on. He was invigorated with new ideas. New ways to live. Adventure was just around the corner. His new bulb shone down on the couch, over Grandma's shoulder and on to the magazine she had picked up, which was called Grandmas and Puppies. It was her favourite issue.<br>
<br>
After a few minutes, Charlie turned Brian's bulb off, helped his Grandma with her coat and shoes, and soon enough they were out the door on their walk. For now, Brian's bulb was out, but soon enough Grandma would be back to read more about Grandmas and Puppies and all kinds of interesting things. Brian had a new life in the living room. Now, if only he could do something about getting some hands. <br>
<br>
And before he knew it, not 2 feet away from Brian, Clark the Clock looked down at his new neighbour. He introduced himself to Brian, and as politely as any Clock could, he invited Brian to use his Clock hands any time he needed. What a stroke of luck, thought Brian. And what a nice Clock. Brian said thank you and, in return, said that he would offer to brighten Clark's day any time he needed a little bit of light in his life.<br>
<br>
The End.<br>
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Brett http://www.blogger.com/profile/10632343649661747519noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4480218591747722314.post-39019933753750819972015-12-30T11:21:00.000-08:002015-12-30T11:21:41.678-08:00SuccessFinal update on my 2015 New Years Resolution...<br />
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I did it!<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRsJ0YOR_WdQkF_cx4wvMLUgAikElUsP2SLIGiFptLJ6bCerzhmWHlu-QeUsqvyiEoZikuilEJzOMpn8RDCLzNj6XR8e_6Yg1-k58WFBTuz2oFNP5TdIYLtmYlbfBU6YvRFF_a668u0-g/s1600/IMG_0940.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRsJ0YOR_WdQkF_cx4wvMLUgAikElUsP2SLIGiFptLJ6bCerzhmWHlu-QeUsqvyiEoZikuilEJzOMpn8RDCLzNj6XR8e_6Yg1-k58WFBTuz2oFNP5TdIYLtmYlbfBU6YvRFF_a668u0-g/s320/IMG_0940.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A dreamy image of 2015</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
365.3 miles logged in 363 days! I actually had to play catch up in December and ended up running over 65 miles this month alone.<br />
<br />
Considering I was not a runner at all before I began the year, I think that I have learned quite a bit while going through this task. Here's what I've learned:<br />
<br />
- Running is fun. Seriously. I've had some great times running around the countryside, taking photos of sunsets and a whole lot of selfies. I've mooed at cows as they cautiously move away from the sound of my approaching footsteps and the strange sounding noises coming from iPhone's play list. My playlist this year included a steady diet of Purity Ring, Ryan Adams, Duplekita, Avett Brothers, Dave Bazan, and Death Cab. Kind of a mellow runner.<br />
<br />
- Running isn't that hard. The hard part is starting. Literally 2 minutes after starting, it's easy to push on for a few miles. The difficulty lies completely in the motivation and preparation. If you are not motivated or prepared (running clothes tucked away instead of hanging where you can see them, GPS watch fully charged) then you will not succeed.<br />
<br />
- Kind of assumed, but I feel better. I had neck pain before I started running (I also have had a standing desk since the Spring) and that pain is gone. I am never short of breath. Also, I made it through the whole year without getting sick once. Not even a sniffle!<br />
<br />
- This time last year, after a good month of eating holiday treats, I weighed 240 pounds. This last week, on the same scale, I weighed in at 216. Carrying 24 less pounds around is nice and is a huge factor in me feeling healthier.<br />
<br />
- I slacked off a few weeks here and there, but that was okay as long as I paid for it later. Totally okay to slow down here and there and then work hard towards getting back on track. Of course, this is not ideal and I will work to avoid playing catch up in the future.<br />
<br />
- I ate super healthy until September. No fried food, no burgers for about 3 months there, tons of kale & fruit smoothies. In this area, I slacked off again. However... I no longer crave soda pop or things like that. I hope that this will continue and will apply to other kinds of junk food that I still like to delve into a little too often. Bottom line is that abstaining from certain things can be a lasting thing that feels good. Not a punishment because, in the end, you lose the craving for it.<br />
<br />
- I can set a goal and actually complete it. This is probably the most important thing about this accomplishment for me. I set out to do a lot of things, and most of the time I don't follow through. A year ago I said that people laugh at New Years Resolutions because nobody ever follows through with them. <br />
<br />
Well, I did! <br />
<br />
I set a reasonable goal and I did it. You can, too! Whatever it may be. I challenge you to set a goal this new year and to chip away at it all the way through the year until you complete it! Go for it!<br />
<br />
For this coming year I have set a new goal. Because I like running, and it makes me feel good, I will continue. <br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAZ6FSG7mRi6qKQjR0VKt1MPqThJBzqCy2pTZxkRQKyWJslGfTylW2ujSvQXOl1dMnRf19mgsAFSGhCvH0Er-AXWD1QraVQpz-JTIpnTc-SiBpIzQomCOKqQ18FdE_JU1752nA7VME3kQ/s1600/FullSizeRender+%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAZ6FSG7mRi6qKQjR0VKt1MPqThJBzqCy2pTZxkRQKyWJslGfTylW2ujSvQXOl1dMnRf19mgsAFSGhCvH0Er-AXWD1QraVQpz-JTIpnTc-SiBpIzQomCOKqQ18FdE_JU1752nA7VME3kQ/s320/FullSizeRender+%25282%2529.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">At the Run For Life 13.1 mile finish. Time of 2 hrs. 8 minutes</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
My goal is to run <b>50 miles a month for the year 2016</b>. I set a monthly goal because weekly goals are really hard to make happen certain weeks for me and I have the flexibility to work toward the end of each month with this goal in mind.<br />
<br />
This goal is not a huge jump from 30 a month, but it's just enough to challenge me to not slack off at any point this year.<br />
<br />
Along with my 50 miles a month, I want to add <b>50 push ups a day, 5 days a week</b>. This will help me in all around strength and give my core strength to continue running further and faster.<br />
<br />
I will run the Run for Life in Stony Plain again in the Fall, with a <b>goal time of 1 hour 50 minutes</b> for the half marathon. I might sign up for another run in the Spring as well.<br />
<br />
So, that's about it. I will keep you posted as I go along. Wish me luck in 2016 and good luck to you!Brett http://www.blogger.com/profile/10632343649661747519noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4480218591747722314.post-10373814182090638662015-11-28T14:21:00.001-08:002015-11-28T14:21:22.161-08:00The StreetI wrote this about the street in front of where I lived for 6 years in the city of Xining, China. It is the road that passes by the university where I studied Chinese. It was where I would buy groceries, where I ate meals, and where I played with my children in an foreign land.<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">-The street-<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">The street shifts with the times; shiny red
lights, power lines heavy under thick dust, and the feet that tilt it back and
forth.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Clothing styles come and go and come
again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Teenagers suck down
cigarettes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>College students pop their collars.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Girls climb to the top of high heels and totter.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">There is a strange scene of status; the
latest fashion in street sweeping attire.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Feet shift and shake on heels as her arms grow embarrassingly firm.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Children play, in the gutters and in the
trash.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A blessed imagination takes them
through the dirt, the dust and the day into some sort of wonderland.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Steam soaks out of an open piece of glass.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The damp humidity chokes, the flavors
provoke.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">A frying cart; soaking in oil and down the
throat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Slam some more salt on that lettuce, please.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Press it in there.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">The tea shop, where they drink beer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The memories made on the street.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">The grass is where they grew up, but the
times have changed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A cement square here,
a water feature there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> Yet there it is! A</span> time
and a place for feet; on the street.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjskI8gBJCqrCGBrV1BMvmjadq8E4YV5HnLxbQz0iTGBnlxfI9_GFYofMTGQvVfXdvUBMmgnLPS9ln6jlEnX7ZxRfG0Lduywloj2-315QIHijQs5eKQtLX5nv3ZPUcQlLJemyi3kp0d6KE/s1600/the+street.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjskI8gBJCqrCGBrV1BMvmjadq8E4YV5HnLxbQz0iTGBnlxfI9_GFYofMTGQvVfXdvUBMmgnLPS9ln6jlEnX7ZxRfG0Lduywloj2-315QIHijQs5eKQtLX5nv3ZPUcQlLJemyi3kp0d6KE/s400/the+street.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
Brett http://www.blogger.com/profile/10632343649661747519noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4480218591747722314.post-69007365861949746432015-11-16T16:09:00.001-08:002015-11-16T16:12:36.323-08:00Ugly Sweaters<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Did you see that most stores now sell mass produced "ugly sweaters"? </span><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYqZB-87TWBQS81fIETzZllKeAPO6dzehGxyeuAIEdFNf7Vepr5F0hpRU98w3zd9mcUREKF4WVqZYKB38X9n1mCosmFk7sBrNk7sy3Z9bE4_5HbU_yaY1DkFZCC6JfdpTwPVWaU2YlR2Y/s1600/5796302520_9850045369_z.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYqZB-87TWBQS81fIETzZllKeAPO6dzehGxyeuAIEdFNf7Vepr5F0hpRU98w3zd9mcUREKF4WVqZYKB38X9n1mCosmFk7sBrNk7sy3Z9bE4_5HbU_yaY1DkFZCC6JfdpTwPVWaU2YlR2Y/s320/5796302520_9850045369_z.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ben and Rose with their epic twin ugly sweater back in 2011</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px; white-space: pre-wrap;">All of the fun and joy that's evolved and grown out of silly traditions like this gets swallowed up by the ones who love the mighty squeeze of the dollar. It will wring our Master Cards until every last nickel and dime falls out of this trend, leaving a million brand new, factory made 'ugly sweaters' to beautify the landfills with.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px; white-space: pre-wrap;">God bless the mighty dollar, am I right? </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px; white-space: pre-wrap;">People used to have to go out to the thrift stores and actually work for their fun. Now Walmart and the gang have caught on. They've bottled up all of the silliness and hung it up on their racks for us to buy so we don't have to have any fun looking for those ugly sweaters.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px; white-space: pre-wrap;">What a world!</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Who knows what other surprises the shopping malls and the television commercials have for us this winter.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Next thing you know they'll put wifi in our cars so that our poor kids won't have to look out of the window.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px; white-space: pre-wrap;">For me? My ugly sweater will remain to be this crappy looking Oilers pullover. For many obvious reasons.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrOcTQI9fCLZ7TlUACmaFRBf2IjTysfXjEaU4egFc4vFQyznKblFsiiLwuxFUSeyLW0mKbizpER-nhq0vOKQ9IcfG2k6Qn38NPuGyxUrANNUqaN4vnrtxDj7s1egUPVya-g1lhl7jhNbM/s1600/IMG_4254+copy.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrOcTQI9fCLZ7TlUACmaFRBf2IjTysfXjEaU4egFc4vFQyznKblFsiiLwuxFUSeyLW0mKbizpER-nhq0vOKQ9IcfG2k6Qn38NPuGyxUrANNUqaN4vnrtxDj7s1egUPVya-g1lhl7jhNbM/s320/IMG_4254+copy.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ugly since 2007</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 16px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span>Brett http://www.blogger.com/profile/10632343649661747519noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4480218591747722314.post-52943768366743158342015-10-28T13:11:00.002-07:002015-10-28T13:13:51.066-07:0094 to go: Running through too 2016Just a little more self-encouragement for my running goal. If you plan a goal and are proud that you're still working towards it then feel free to tell people about it, right?<br />
<br />
The Facts:<br />
<br />
<b>- I am 94 miles away from a mile a day in 2015. </b><br />
<br />
That'll be 365 miles in 2015. I've got to pick up the pace here, but I think I can do it.<br />
<br />
<b>- Since January I have lost between 25-30 pounds. </b><br />
<br />
Some of my clothes have lasted for over a decade, so it's nice to have them fit comfortably again after a handful of generous years. I've burned off over 55 000 calories while running so far.<br />
<br />
<b>- My aches and pains are minimal. </b><br />
<br />
Something I learned from the old folks in China. They'd be outside every morning stretching their legs, slapping at the blood in their arms, and dancing around in circles. I think I've kept things loose and that's kept me mobile.<br />
<br />
<b>- My mind is clearer</b><br />
<br />
I have to admit that running really helps me mentally and emotionally. The constant rhythm of the steps, the arms swinging to the tunes. It all melts off me and away. When I miss a week of running I find myself lethargic, and in many ways short with Barbara and the boys.<br />
<br />
I have dealt with mild depression issues (who hasn't? Geez!) for a long time now. I think a lot of it has to do with the fact that, as an introvert, I spend most of my time in my own mind. It can get stale and stuffy in there. Running is like throwing the ol' mind back on the hamster wheel. Or maybe it's more like a water slide. If I do it more often the dang thing won't get so sluggish all of the time.<br />
<br />
<br />
In all, I recommend exercise. It's tough at first, but it really does get easier. Set goals. Reach them and then set more goals. Read books about runners. Rich Roll. Scott Jurek. Christopher McDougall. Be you, don't compare. Give yourself grace, then build discipline and get out there again.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Brett http://www.blogger.com/profile/10632343649661747519noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4480218591747722314.post-46748117784763600652015-10-08T15:34:00.000-07:002015-10-08T15:34:55.760-07:00This Election Year<div style="text-align: center;">
This election year I'll do what I always do, because that's what I always do </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
and why should I change for anybody else?</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
Brett http://www.blogger.com/profile/10632343649661747519noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4480218591747722314.post-78886264451425038742015-10-08T15:17:00.002-07:002015-10-08T15:17:58.463-07:00Deadbeat Dad<div style="text-align: center;">
I've known you since you were born</div>
<div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
But that's a given</div>
</div>
<div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
No one gives you a ribbon</div>
</div>
<div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Just for knowing someone</div>
</div>
Brett http://www.blogger.com/profile/10632343649661747519noreply@blogger.com0