Peace at last

In spite of the meddling of George W., the self-serving faith of her parents, Terri Schiavo died today. Farewell, rest well, be at peace.

After 13 days without food or water, it may seem harsh and cruel death in a world of medical marvels. Just to be absolutely clear if that was my situation: get my organs (except for my non-functioning pancreas) to those that could use them and let me die. I would prefer 13 days of dying to 14 years of not living.

So much has been made of this story, of this woman in particular, it really has people thinking about the value of life, the finality of death and the interceding war of morality and righteousness. I agree with The Voice on The Current who wondered if George W. Bush's "presumption in favour of life" applies to those on Death Row.

Fancy Lunch

At the Rainforest Cafe, we dined in ecological awe as animatronic gorillas, birds and other fauna, came to life every few minutes (although I shudder to think of the water, energy and resources needed to create and maintain such an atmosphere). The twinkling skyscape of a ceiling and the saltwater fishtank provided a fine family dining experience, most of which was lost on a tired toddler.

It was a "fancy holiday lunch" as Rei still refers to it. The impact of its cost was lessened by the fact that the doggy bags furnished our supper that night. We chose not to buy the pint glass for an extra $8.50.

(Tourist Area)

If the bright lights and sounds of midway attractions, wax museums, Guinness Book of World Records and Ripley's Believe-It-Or-Not museuems, various haunted attractions, or the incredibly angry Incredible Hulk leaping from Marvel Super Heroes Adventure City, didn't clue us in, the informative signage of Niagara Falls kindly indicate that we are in a Tourist Area.

Just in case we got lost. How kind!

A Honeymoon Getaway

After the liturgical frenzy of Easter weekend, we escaped the hustle and bustle of Arkona by crossing southwestern Ontario to the turbulent junction of Lakes Erie and Ontario.

Our family was greeted by warm cookies to the ritzy (by our standards) Doubletree Resort Lodge in touristique Niagara Falls. We settled into our 2-room suite where much TV was watched and much relaxation was had on the luxurious duvet-covered, king-sized bed.

While there was much anticipation about the pool (Rei had been wearing her swimsuit in the house at any and every opportunity), the actual aquatic adventure was less enthusiastically received.

The irony of our accommodation is found in the neighbouring establishment, Econolodge, which hosted our previous Niagara getaway of 2002. Marketed for the thrifty, we shivered by space heater and endured frat-boy parties. Needless to say, we enjoyed our lodgings more this time.

Monday malaise

Another extended absence this week, due to a mini-holiday in Niagara Falls to celebrate Easter (more accurately, its passage) and to enjoy family time together.

So today feels rather like Monday, facing the mid-week amount of work with start-of-week energy level. I managed to botch a meeting tonight by forgetting to show up (double-booked Rei care tonight with said meeting).

To get back into the routine of things, and to clear my mind, I'll blitz-blog until there's enough mind space freed up to attend to work and school and all else.

Rolling Flat

Handy Daddy struck again this morning, this time changing a flat tire on the car. Last night I took the confirmation class to The Swell, a "contemporary" youth worship service. I intended to use our car except it had this flat tire. Pressed for time, we hopped into my in-laws' Taurus which we've been carsitting and left for London.

So this morning, in the chill of dawn, I swapped the tires (those afternoons helping my father-in-law rotate them came in handy) and proceeded to the local garage. Peter was very helpful and accommodating, but could not find any problem with it. To be on the safe side, he replaced the valve stem and offered to repair the tire for free should another problem arise in the next few days.

While it's a relief that there was no major damage done, it would nice to know what the cause of the flat was and that it was corrected. So in our travels tonight, every bumpy stretch of road had me wondering if that was the tire gone again and I was sure I smelled rubber at one point in the journey. The mind is a wonderfully paranoid thing (at least mine is). Safely home again, it's still inflated and ready to roll.

Dye Hard

It's egg-cellent.

Extended Service Plan

There was no benediction (or malediction as I usually offer this day), no words of sending out or of blessing at our Good Friday service because worship continues on through the weekend and on to Easter Sunday.

Truthfully, worship ought to continue beyond the walls of church into our ordinary lives. Spending time with Shelley and Rei is worship, reconnecting with friends, exercise (physical or mental or spiritual), etc., can be an offering of thanks, awareness of a greater good and an act of praise. Although I hesitate to use that word, "praise", because it conjures up images of crowded stadiums of weeping, lighter-waving, pilgrims with hands held high with blissful countenances of assured salvation.

Dang! How did a sermon get in here?

Single Dad Evening

While Shelley is out on a bonding night with the girls from work, I get to play single-parent family with Rei. I had grand visions of an omelette for dinner, seeing as how my appetite is returning. That's what happens when Shelley leaves, I go egg-tastic. It ended up being reheated Kraft Dinner.

Rei spotted some hot cross buns on the table, purchased for Easter breakfast at the church. She pointed and happily cried, "Buns!" After artfully employing my powers of distraction, I was able to convince her that 7-grain bread with margarine was just as nice. This was before she dumped her cup of milk.

As active multi-taskers, we watched a Baby Einstein video, sang many refrains of "Head and shoulders, knees and toes", read some Curious George, put some babies to sleep and endured some short-lived nailcutting.

A play-filled bath time (without bubbles, because they scared her last night) involved Rei correctly identifying, and playing with, her "nipples". In protest of the new, clean diaper being brandished at her, she peed on her towel while informing me that she was "pooping".

So far, the drift off to sleep has been successfully uneventful. To make up for my lack of omelette, I may fashion some nachos deluxe while I watch basketball. After I finish planning for the Easter weekend worship services, of course.

Getting Back to It

After a couple of days of feeling rather blaaaah-g, the fever, headaches, chills, nausea, etc. have abated enough to some work accomplished.

Times like this give me great admiration and appreciation for single parents who have to manage a household, kids and life in general through times of bad health and gastro-intestinal woe. I'm thankful for Shelley, for our daycare and for my life of privilege.

I've also realized how reliant I am on the digital cyberworld after being effectively offline for a couple days. Somewhat like friends who've returned from a week's holiday in Fiji, there are many sites, stories and news to catch up on. It's a little scary that this electronically-constructed reality is so consuming that it's easy to forget about an immense sphere of nature, weather and wonder.

Well, here's hoping nature is nice for us for our outdoor Easter Sunrise service.

Vernal Equinox

As day lengthens to meet the shrinking night, we catch up to the outer limit of Groundhog Day's prediction. All the signs of spring are here: chirping birds; squirrelly squirrels; brown, dead grass; mud everywhere; the emergence of roadkill; and, the smells of wet dog and manure filling the crisp air.

I know I have a tendency to see the negative in things (a Myers-Briggs "thinker"/ a True Colour "green"/ an Enneagrammic "5") but I'm not off base when I say the delightful sunny days with green grass, blooming flowers, and butterflies are still a ways away.

Just like life - we have to get through the mud and guck in order to enjoy the sunny pastorale that is rural southwestern Ontario. Although the smell of manure never does seem to go away; it just seems to hang in the background all the time. Happy Spring.

Bracket Busted

Round 1 of the NCAA basketball tournament is done and I'm sitting at 23/32 in picking the winner. If you can't be successful, you might as well be stylishly palindromic.

I'm guessing Bucknell and Vermont did quite a number to a few pools around the continent. I had Old Dominion as the 12-5 upset winner so there's a bit of revising that needs to be done. Now, in my dreamworld, Kentucky (instead of Syracuse) gets to be the one who knocks off Duke.

Before that happens, it's Bearcats vs. Wildcats tonight. Meow!

Today was brought to you by the number 2

Two was the number of:

• trips to Forest
• trips to the Forest City, London
• losing Rrroll up the Rim to Win coffees
• pairs of new glasses for Shelley
• sightings of Grandma B.
• fast food meals
  
• attempts to blog these incidences
  

Today also featured the second ultrasound of baby 2 and the purchase of The Weakerthans' 2nd studio release, Left & Leaving. I also ended up with ten $2 coins in my pocket.

If only I could play the tuba. And I should have had a tuna sandwich. Then I'd be 2 Legit 2 Quit.

St. Pat's Beer Run

So it is St. Patrick's Day and here I was without Guinness. Shelley offered to pick some up for me on her way home from work and we laughed at the thought of a 25-week pregnant woman perusing the liquor store. (Although, the dark draft would offer the child-in-waiting some essential nutrients).

My charming and intrepid wife salvaged this saint's day and permitted me to indulge my Irish heritage. My goodness, my Guinness!

My Many Smells

This morning I decided to forego a shower. The ladies were making meat pies at the church and I knew I would end up smelling like onions anyway.

I also went to the gym where there is some high-powered air freshener that almost makes me nauseous. It's an overwhelmingly noxious fruity Dead Milkmen scent that sings of its own "sickening sweet smell, I could really make you ill".

I'd prefer the scent of sweaty, odorous bodies; and lucky Shelley, that's what I return home with.
"Won't you come and smell me? Won't you share my stench?"

?

It's been a standard Tuesday of questions (along with my answers).

Field Ed. meeting:

• How's the paper coming along? (uhm, fine. really)

Bible Study:

• How much coffee should I make? (not enough)
• What message is in the scripture for us today? (true charity comes from love)

Baptism meeting:

• What is the one thing you want your child to know about faith? (there are many paths to spiritual awareness)

The inevitable:

• What are we doing for supper? (chicken strips, fries, salad)

The Amazing Race:

• Could I eat 4 lbs of meat? (sure. in a timely, vomit-less, fashion? maybe not)
• How does Rob get away with it? (I have no idea)
• How can one get so lost they're 2 hours off-course? (I have no idea)

March Madness:

• Who would I like in the Final Four? (Illinois, Louisville, Kansas, Kentucky)
• Who do I think will make it there? (Illinois, Wake Forest, North Carolina, Syracuse)

Hard Time

Rei's familiarity with the criminal justice system is maybe too advanced for our liking.

While touring the back streets of Goderich (having arranged a face-to-face family visit with my CCS learning partner), we happened to drive by the Huron County Historic Gaol. Imagine our amusement and fearful delight as Rei happily piped up “Big House!” as that institution of correction and justice glided past her window.

What else she knows about the Big House and its goings-on, we’re not sure. We don’t even get Oz on our cable package.

3-point Folly

The 3-point shot is a dangerous, oft-unreliable, option for basketball player. Such is the lesson for today.

While Kelenna Azubuike turned in a decent game this afternoon, Patrick Sparks long-range touch was off and the mighty Wildcats were routed by Florida. To make matters worse, Duke holds off Georgia Tech in their game and emerges as champions. Blech.

Yet when the outside shots drop through the basket like Skittles from the sky, even the Raptors can win. Swish. It’s a sweet sound when it works. Clang, when it doesn't.

The Onset of Madness

The signs of spring are here: brightening mornings and evenings, Tim Horton's Rrroll up the Rim campaign, and the flurry of college basketball. Ah, March Madness, the cause of Survivor's relocation to Wednesday night for the next fortnight ...

As Rei and I watched the Georgia Tech - UNC game this afternoon, I explained that when the defender has established position previous to contact with the player on offense (as opposed to an "offensive player"), it was a "player-controlled foul" or a "charge". She nodded knowingly and repeated "charge".

Next on my list is the name "Kelenna Azubuike", simply because I like the way it rolls off the tongue and I appreciate his play as one of Tubby Smith's 'Cats from Kentucky. If it can't be U of K, then, I'd be quite happy cheering for any underdog. Well, anyone but Duke.

Somewhere in the midst of this, I have to fit in a little something called "Easter".

CharBar < Darbar

Of the many fine family dining options available to us in our locale, nothing has yet (nor do we anticipate anything ever will) supplant Darbar as our favourite restaurant.

A local establishment, 50 King St Grill (I'm not sure that's the proper name it often is referred to as "CharBar") received our business last night. It seemed like a popular choice in our circle of influence: two teachers from Rei's daycare, with separate parties; parents of a church member; a baritone from the choir; and a neighbour from across the parking lot next door.

I was impressed with the centre cut half rack of ribs. The availability of Stella Artois was a surprising touch for a clientele that ordinarily swims in the pedestrian standards of Blue and Canadian. Friendly service and reasonable prices added to the experience. The decor is a hodgepodge of tables and chairs but the overall appearance is clean and bright.

While it is no Darbar, it certainly was the place to be.