My wife’s Uncle Charle passed away last evening. He was only 68.

God bless you, Charle. You are loved and you will be missed.

Rest in peace.

Well… 41 years old today. Every day is a new experience. I’ve never been this old. My birthday gift to you all is a story of birthdays past.

Six or seven years ago, my birthday was like any other day. By any other day, I mean nobody said “Hey! Happy Birthday!” The morning came and went. Got ready for work, went to work, had lunch. Nothing. Neither my wife nor son remembered the big day. I was actually kind of enjoying it, really. I thought I was chalking up a little piece of emotional blackmail to place on my side of the scales that are already weighed heavily in my wife’s favour. After work, I brought my wife to a hair appointment and returned to the house, awaiting her phone call for me to come pick her up.

When my son and I got home, he went outside to play and I sat and watched TV. Suddenly the door burst open. “Dad! Dad! Look outside! At that house down there! There’s a guy dressed up like Mickey Mouse delivering a bunch of balloons! It must be somebody’s birthday!” He went back outside, door slamming behind him. “Yes, buddy. I must be someone’s birthday.”

The phone rang. It was Donna. “Can you come pick me up?” I called out to Garrett and we drove across town to pick up Donna. When we got there, Garrett went inside to wait with his Mom and I waited in the van. I was parked nose in to the storefront. I could see the front cash directly in front of me. A few minutes after getting there, Donna appeared at that front cash with the lady who did her hair. They were ringing up the sale. Donna whipped out the VISA card and was signing the receipt when she eyed the date on the piece of paper. She got this horrified look on her face, looked straight ahead, and then slowly turned her head toward me. Clearly embarrassed, she mouthed the words “Happy Birthday”. I smiled broadly and mouthed “Thank you” right back.

She and Garrett came out and she stammered how sorry she was and that we had to do something for my birthday. I said it was no big deal, not to worry about it. But she insisted we go out for supper. So, off to Pizza Delight.

We got there, all smiles, and were escorted to our table. Donna occasionally muttered “I’m so sorry” as we walked over and sat down. The waitress came over and we ordered pizza. Just as the waitress walked away, Donna looked at me and said “I don’t feel very well. Really. I think I’m gonna be sick. You and Garrett stay here and eat…. do you mind if I wait for you in the van?” No problem, I said. And off she went. Garrett, who was about 9 at the time, was fidgety and sensed his Mom wasn’t well. “Can I go out with her?” Sure, I said.

I looked around the restaurant. All eyes were glaring at me. They all saw the three of us walk in. Some of them probably heard Donna say “I’m sorry”. They saw us whisper to each other, and then they saw Donna leave with a distressed look on her face, immediately followed by our son. I could read their expressions…. “You bastard! What did you say to them, you sumbitch?”

The waitress showed up with the pizza and looked at the empty seats. I asked her to box it up so I could take it with me. Her mouth said “No problem sir.” but her eyes said “You bastard! What did you say to them, you sumbitch?”

I hung my head and left. Happy Birthday, Stevie-boy, Happy Birthday.

Our son left today for a school trip to Europe. My heart is racing out of excitement and envy of what is sure to be a trip of a lifetime for many of these kids, particularly our son. The 50 or so kids along with 10 or so chaperones all gathered at the school at 5:00 pm, where they would file onto buses for the 2.5 hour drive to Halifax airport. We arrived at the school around 4:30 and left him at about 5:30, waiting for the buses to arrive. Their flight was supposed to be leaving at 11:45 pm tonight, right about the time I am writing this post.

Well, we got a call around 8:30 this evening from our son and he told us that they had just left the school! What?!? 8:30 plus 2.5 hours is 11:00!!! There are 60 of them to check in… PLUS, we had quite a snowstorm here today where part of the highway between here and Halifax was closed to traffic, due to the whiteout conditions. That would probably make for a drive longer than 2.5 hours. PANIC!!

As all of my faithful readers are aware, I’ve been through the stress of almost missing an important flight before. Sitting here wondering if the kids made their flight is as nerve-wracking for me as when it happened to me.

There’s no real point to my post, other than I hope the flight waits for them, I hope that the trip is not affected by any possible delay this might cause, and I hope our son is safe.

God speed, my son, and enjoy your trip!

Is it March already? Holy Cow, where did the month go. I just realized that my last post was two weeks ago!

It’s been a hectic couple of weeks, really. Lots of extra work, helping friends with computer repairs (and ultimately a computer purchase), readying my son for a class trip to Europe, vehicle repairs and maintenance, and snowstorms, snowstorms, freakin’ snowstorms.

Today, March 1, we are getting beaten yet again with another storm. Here’s hoping that the old adage is true. If March comes in like a lion, perhaps it does indeed foreshadow a meek exit of this, the longest of the winter months, in my opinion. By now, I’m usually pretty sick of snowflakes and am yearning for the thaw, the tulips, and the leaves. Not wishing my time away, but C’MON April!

But for now, I am looking forward to a morning date with a snowblower and an afternoon trip to see our son off on his adventure in Europe. In other words, a full day’s worth of reasons to cry. Oh, and after that, perhaps a few games of pool with my buddy Paul. I’m hoping he has reasons to cry after that!

And what have you done? Another year over; a new one just begun.

Another year has come and gone. Lots of stuff happened over the last year… from marriages to carriages, makeups to breakups. Our families have seen some good fortune and our families have seen some tough times. There have been changes in scenery, conflicts, disappointments, and challenges. But there have also been good times; love, laughter, reconciliation, generosity, support, and togetherness. All in all, we made it through, respectively, in one piece.

This year, my family ventured the highways to return to the rock for Christmas. We were supposed to return on New Year’s Eve, but the weather was fortunately uncooperative and we have been forced to stay for an extra few days. As I look out the window at the current blizzard, readying myself mentally for the road trip back home tomorrow, I reflect on the good times we had this holiday season. For your entertainment, I share some snapshots of the fun and frolic, the “hilites reel” if you will, courtesy of my digital camera and the wonders of YouTube.

Happy New Year to you all.

When a loved one starts a conversation with the words “You love me, right?” you know you have to prepare yourself for the worst.

That’s how my son started a phone conversation with me this evening. He had gotten his driver’s license a week ago and now he is terrorizing the sidewalks of Moncton. It snowed big time here a couple of days ago and you can imagine the stream of possible revelations heading my way when I heard those words on the other end of the phone.

“You love me, right?”

Yes, of course I do. Now please tell me what happened. Crunched fenders… insurance rates… expensive repairs… speeding tickets… broken glass… global warming… For GOD’S sake, PLEASE tell me what happened!

“Well, I, uhm… me and Brendan, like, uhm, we were going to Shopper’s to get some cold medicine, for Mom, and uhm, like, on our way, we, like, you know, dropped in for Devon, and well… we were driving back, and like, uhm, we were being really careful, but like we were on Mountain Road, right? and you know, we were just driving along and…”

Please just tell me what happened. Before I melt into a puddle and short circuit my cell phone. Please.

“Ok, well, uhm, anyways, we were driving along and, like, there was a piece of ice in the road, right?, and there was no way to drive around it, and like, I uhm, didn’t want to slam on the brakes for a chunk of ice, and I, uhm, didn’t really KNOW it was a chunk of ice, it like, you know, looked like snow, but anyways, we hit it and like it made a bad noise and we like kept driving around but the brake pedal started to like, you know, feel funny, and well, then a light came on, but it, uhm, you know, it wasn’t like, flashing or anything and so then we like drove around some more, until like, the car wouldn’t stop when we pressed the pedal, so we like pulled over and…”

Did you hit anything? Are you ok? Where’s the car?

“No, yes, in the driveway.”

Good. I’ll be home soon… we can talk about it some more then.

Oh me nerves.