Lawn Boy
This is the fortune I got in my fortune cookie from my chinese fast food mistake today at lunch:
Your act of kindness will warm another's soulSo I'm not sure if fortunes can be applied retroactively and I'm even less sure that mowing your own lawn can be seen as an act of kindness, but I am sure that mowing my lawn on Monday warmed my neighbours' souls. It was the first time I mowed the lawn
this year and it was looking like my lawn gromming habits matched my current face grooming habits. My neighbour actually told me that she was about a day away from sticking a picture of a mower on my door just to make sure I knew what one looked like. I did, and I even found one that worked.
The strange thing about this was that it was actually the first time I felt some sense of pride mowing a lawn. It was the first time I mowed it since I bought the house and cleaning up my yard was waaaayyyy more satisfying than cleaning up the yard on George St. Interesting; it never felt that way when I cleaned the toilet.
And thanks to this picture I have a new name for my lawnmower - the Tas-MOW-nian devil....who knew there was a lawnmower racing circuit. God Bless America.
Pace out.
Labels: Amurka, Neighbourhood Watch
Summer Wind
Actual summer weather arrived in Freddy late last week and that made for a weekend of actual summer fun. It was a busy one, spent trying to take advantage of the aformentioned weather.
It started early on Friday afternoon when a few of the boys from worked booked off early to go shoot each other with paint. I hadn't played in quite a few years but I was reminded how fun if for no other reason then to be able to look at a whole new group of people and say "Hey remember that time I shot you in the face; that was funny, eh?". They could all say it back to me though and I have the bruises to prove it.
Saturday we had our annual Spring tournament and although it was poorly attended due to new registration regulations for Rugby Canada we got some games in the sunshine and a whole bunch of people to enjoy a beer with. That night we had a Pirate Party at the clubhouse which was a great time. Unfortunately Mat Trevors wasn't there so at no point in the evening did anyone say "Yarrr, have you seen my sunken chest?". What a shame. The wenches looked good though.
Sunday was a bit of a slow starter but once I did drag myself out of bed I needed nothing more then water. Forgoing a drink of water I decided I needed a larger dose and headed to Grand Lake to visit Sarah at the cottage. Spent a couple of hours enjoying their company then hit the road for the final stop of the weekend. The "
Dirtdog" was home from Dubai and I stopped into his place at Maquapit for dinner on the way home. Not one for a short visit he started a fire right after supper and I got to end the weekend with some time around a campfire. That's about as good a way as I can think to end a weekend.
Pace out.
Labels: Freaky People
Seven Turns
For the past month or so the CBC has been doing a ratings-drive contest to choose the
Seven Wonders of Canada. Today is the last day to vote on what you think should be deemed the Seven Wonders of Canada. As I mentioned a few days ago, our friends down at
Big Santo have already posted on this topic and pretty much hit the nail on the head with their picks. So instead of plagiarising from Craig (something I swore I would never do again after his economics essay on "Strippers in the Sales World" got me a C) I am going to make my own list of the Seven Wonders of the CBC. So here goes:
7)The Royal Canadian Air Farce's streak of 322 straight episodes without a single funny skit.
6)Don Cherry's collars.
5)Don Cherry's ego - the only thing on the CBC bigger than Don Cherry's collars.
4)Ron Maclean's patience
3)Rick Mercer's smug self-importance (for which I like him)
2)Donelly Rhodes - Best name not currently involved in the porn industry not to mention former star of the CBC's all-time best show
Danger Bay1)Rex Murphy's Forehead - so big it's actually a Fivehead.
Incidentally, of Craig's picks I think that the Northern Lights and the Vimy Memorial should be mortal locks to be on this list. From a personal perspective I think that the Bay of Fundy should be one as should that most Canadian vessel the Canoe. Which reminds me of one of my favourite jokes - Why is American beer like sex in a canoe? Because it's fucking near water! Hiyo!
Coming soon - the Seven Wonders of New Brunswick.
Pace out.
Labels: CBC
Bomb the World
In Fredericton, when there is a holiday that involves the traditional 21-Gun salute the military sets up their artillery at the boat launch at Carleton Park. In the couple of years that I have lived on the Northside I have noticed this and thought that, when walking along Union, it looks alot like an enemy army lining up to blow the Legislature into pieces. I always wanted to get a good picture and even took my camera with me as I walked to work yesterday morning. Sadly, our army is now working at maximum efficiency and wasn't at the park at 9 to set up for the 11 o'clock salute. Damn Gleaner.
Pace out.
"You can bomb the world to pieces,
but you can't bomb the world to peace"
This Note's For You
In my regular Sunday surfing I came across a great new site to find cards to send to all your new facebook birthday buddies. I won't put the link to it here because I would assume they will come and tell me to take their cards down but I advise you to go to www.someecards.com and laugh. If you really want to make my Monday, send me an e-card!
Pace out
Labels: Courtesy Hello, Great moments in greeting card history
Big Balls
I would like to take this opportunity to point you away from this page - Avert Your Eyes! - to introduce you to the most important thing to happen to the internet since...well, since this blog. My friends down at
Evolving Solutions have liberated Craig Allen's thoughts from the confines of their walls and allowed them to roam freely across the internet.
Craig told me about this blog last week and I've been reading all the old posts all week. This blog is almost exactly what my blog would be like if I got paid to do it; exept that I would update it daily. If you can forget while you read that this is a business blog and Craiger is therefore a corporate whore then you will be rewarded. There is a high Maritime content factor and, next to
North, Craig is the funniest person I know. And sometime he even means to be.
So without further ado I introduce you to
Big Santo, and more importantly
Big Santo's Blog -
www.bigsanto.blogspot.com. I'm so pissed that Craiger actually made a post about the Seven Wonders of Canada before I did that I can't even tell you. Hopefully this post, and the huge increase in traffic that comes with it, will make him forgive me when I make one of my own. I will have to do something else for not getting expressed written consent to use the Big Santo logo. I think I had implied verbal consent but it was a couple of Saturday's ago and Craig said he doesn't remember it.
Enjoy Big Santo.
Pace out.
Labels: Corporate Whores, Craig Allen is the Balls
Nobody Loves Me But My Mother
Dear Mom,
Happy Mother's Day. You have taught me (perhaps uconsciously) not to worry too much about these Hallmark holidays. Nevertheless I have no doubt that you call you mother on Mother's day. Of course I think you call your mother every Sunday, and not just when you need a recipe (or appliances, or advice, or a kick in the ass). I tried to call but didn't get an answer. I hope you got my message and I hope that you had a great day!
Love,
Si
PS - this title isn't entirely true - I know that my Step-Mother loves me too.
Yer Not The Ocean
Summer showed up this week and the Saltwater Cowboy had been blown ashore and convinced me to take an afternoon off to run the Nashwaak with him. So I left work at noon and we got geared up and hit the water around 2. We put in just below Taymouth at my Aunt and Uncle's old place (where Scott Ross graciously let Mike park his car) and planned on making it to the mouth. It was an absolutely beatiful day but there was a bit of a headwind so we weren't making the time we hoped. It didn't help that we had a pair of dogs that were jumping ship when we got close to shore on the narrow river.
I spent a long time trying to figure out the proper progression of commmunities between Stanly and the 'Ville and only figured it out the next day at work (for the record it's Stanley, Nashwaak Bridge, Taymouth, Durham, Nashwaak Village, Penniac, Marysville). We got as far as Marysville where we pulled out by the cotton mill to some friendly kids who were happy to let us take out there for beer. Superfriend got the call and arrived in a flash to ferry us home. I made it out to reggae later for it's return the Taproom making Wednesday just about the perfect way to usher in the summer weather.
Hopefully it comes back for the weekend.
Pace out.
Fight For Your Mind
I went to a hockey rink on the weekend and the fights broke out. In this case that old joke was more literal than normal. The Fredericton Boxing Club hosted the British Invasion at the Coliseum on Saturday night. There was a club visiting from Sunderland, England, hence the moniker. I had never seen fights live and it was quite a show even if most of the bouts were between kids. It didn't hurt that they served beer and I lucked into ringside seats. There was also exhibition women's bouts on the card which meant that I got to hear, on several occasions, someone say "She can't wrestle but you should see her box", and that will always make me laugh. The main event was a bout between a couple of teenagers which was one by the rangy brit - you can see footage of it
here.
The next day the boxing club hosted a barbecue for the visitor's at the rugby club and I worked the bar for them. Hearing the older British boxers talk about the night before over beers reminded me how fun it is to be on tour. The flew across the ocean, beat up some folks, laughed about it over a few beer and made some great new friendships. Sometimes it's good to know that there are like-minded people no matter where you go. Good bunch of guys and great sports...I think. I really didn't have a clue what they were saying most of the time.
Pace out.
Everybody Knows This Is Nowhere
For as long as I can remember May 1st has been a date of note in my extended family because it is my quasi-big brother Scotty's birthday. What I did not know is that May 1st was also my grandfather's birthday. My (middle) namesake Desmond Pacey died in 1975 when I was less then a year old. There is a picture of him holding me but I have no memory of the man. All I have is the
legacy of his life's work in literary criticism and academia. He edited our high school english textbook,
Our Literary Heritage, and was enough a part of UNB's history to have a street named after him (I like to say that the street was named after I spent enough money at the Social Club - it's not true). By all accounts he was brillant, driven man and champion of Canada's distinct literary heritage. He played a role in adding to this legacy by nurturing Canadian authors like Alden Nowlen. He also wrote his own fiction and poetry and this is the poem that appears on his headstone:
The fluted fear
the chiselled grief
are all the means of our relief
and in solidity of stone
we cheat the transience of bone.But beyond his work I've never had a good picture of the man - for example I had no idea when his birthday was. I had an impression of him as being consumed by his work but as my father and his sister's recalled him on his birthday this week a different picture emerged. He was indeed passionate about his work but he had the same passion for his family and life in general. This passion was passed on to Dad and maybe some of it to me. They all still miss him 30 years after his death.
I know some of the story of how he ended up here but there are holes. I know that he was born in New Zealand but ended up in Canada, teaching at the Univerity of Brandon before accepting a position at UNB. That's how the family laid it's roots in Fredericton; roots that dug in when his children started families of their own. Roots that got deeper when I bought a house in Devon. Roots that get deeper every time I see the sunset over the river.
Scotty and I can trace our roots to the day after I was born when he came to meet me at the hospital. Those roots got deeper as we grew up together (which is an ongoing process - he still gets toys for his birthday) and got as deep as you can go when he and Nicki asked me to be Sophie's Godfather.
So now when Scotty and play rugby together and Sophie smiles and reaches for me I am awfully happy that my grandfather chose to take a job in Fredericton.
Happy Birthday Boys.
Pace out.
this year and it was looking like my lawn gromming habits matched my current face grooming habits. My neighbour actually told me that she was about a day away from sticking a picture of a mower on my door just to make sure I knew what one looked like. I did, and I even found one that worked. 
