Moncton TreeGO, arbre en arbre (tree to tree) is an aerial obstacle course in Centennial Park, in Moncton, New Brunswick. Participants climb up into the trees and maneuver across rope bridges, dangling logs, zip lines and tarzan ropes, reliving their youth and prehistoric urges.

If you were to ask me if my wife would ever do something like this, I’d say “no frikkin’ way, eh.” But I’d have been wrong. My darling wife, nervous about heights, strapped on her safety harness and ventured aloft, swinging like a monkey in the trees. I must say… I’m quite impressed.

From their site:

You begin TreeGO on the green course where you get comfortable with the equipment and the rhythm of moving through each activity. Balance is required, and we know you can do it! Now on to the blue course where suddenly childhood memories of rope swings and climbing trees comes back to you. Up further into the trees you head on to the red course. You’re feeling confident now and can’t help laughing out loud as you zip through the forest or watch your friend try to walk gracefully across a moving obstacle. Now it’s time for the ultimate in focus and fitness - the black course. You climb up even further into the tree canopy discovering that your movements are even more fluid than before.

Way to go, Donna! You GO girl! Or rather, you TreeGO, girl!

Check out how effective voice recognition software is. Finally, I can get some relief for my carpal tunnel syndrome! (Um… it’s 10 minutes long, but worth it.)

Making fun of that which makes fun of others. Funny!

Ever have one of those days when you throw all caution to the wind and say what comes to your mind the second it comes to your mind?

Uhm… I had one of those days yesterday.

My wife was using my laptop. On that laptop, we both have user accounts, as does our 17 year old son.

Wifey: Why does your account have your picture and our son’s account has his picture, but my account has a picture of a dog?

Me: I don’t know. I was afraid to pick a picture you wouldn’t like.

Wifey: But a dog?

Me: Well, it is a female dog…

Wifey: (Cold, murderous stare that says “Why don’t you just go to bed and get a good night’s sleep… oh, and pay no mind to these rusty, blunt scissors.”)

Me: What?!? What did I say?

For some reason she was insulted.

P.S. I wrote this post on September 8 and scheduled it to be published in the future… September 9 to be specific. I’ve gotten enough feedback, verbal and written, over yesterday’s post that I feel the need to add a little editorial note to re-establish my neutrality, or indifference as the case may be, with regards to who pays the price for my smartass-ous-ness. There have been plenty of posts here and there where I was on the receiving end of a verbal jab… all in the name of humouring you, my adoring public. I will attempt to curb the collateral damage as best I can. (This rationalization comes to you courtesy of the letter “Y”, the number “12″, the warning comment from Deb, the wagged finger and scolding comments from Kym, and the confused stare from Gary.)

Lights… camera…. swallow!

My wife had a capsule endoscopy procedure done today. It’s a medical procedure where a camera inside a pill-sized capsule is swallowed to give the doctors a good visualization of the digestive tract. She had to wear a harnessed computer with and octopus of sensor tentacles taped across her upper torso that would receive the images transmitted by the capsule from inner space. She wore this for 8 hours today.

To prep for this, she had to fast… and be flushed out. She had to drink this Pico-Salax shtuff to make way for the camera and the clarity of the photos it would share. I can’t speak for her experience, but in preparation for another slightly more intrusive procedure myself, I had to take this wonderful stuff. Ironically, it tastes like shit. After you drink it, you have to follow it up with Lake Huron. The water flowed through me faster with each glass I would consume. Eventually, the water was not only clear when it came out the other end, it was still cold. Try it sometime… it’s a great party trick. But I digress…

She had been fasting since yesterday morning… having nothing but water, white cranberry juice and lemon flavoured Jello. Having been there before, I figured I had license to do a little playful ribbing, humming “They call it yellow Jello…quite rightly. They call it yellow Jello…” “Oh, honey, don’t be jealous of this sandwich… really, it’s not so good. I cut this home-made bread a little too thick, the peanut butter is creamy, and the jam is sweet. Not very good.”

The poor girl. She suffered it out though, like a trooper. She had to wait four hours after she swallowed the pill to have a glass of water, and another four hours before she could eat. That would make it 36 hours between meals. Eight hours and thirty seconds after she swallowed the pill, she was face and eyes into a plate of homemade macaroni and cheese.

You guessed it, “They call it yellow elbows…. with cheddar. They call it yellow elbows!”