Going ice skating

When someone hasn’t done something for a long time, it is often said that the ability for this or that will come back to them naturally. “It’s like riding a bike” they say.
Let me assure you, that is baloney.
Take for instance ice skating.

When I heard that colleagues planned to go ice skating, I was one of the first to sign up to join the group. After all, I had once enjoyed ice skating and even though the last time I had been on the ice was some thirteen years ago, I assumed that my body would remember the balance and the ability to skate. It would be just like riding a bike.

We happily chattered on the way to Nathan Phillip Square, where there is an open air ice rink. We somewhat fell silent as we lined up to hire skates. As we saw the ice and saw the skaters (struggling to stay vertical) our courage began to fail. Would this be like riding a bike?

By the time I strapped on my skates I was half frozen and shivering like a leaf on an Alaska tree. Whether this was due to the cold December wind or nerves I’ll never know.
I struggled to get up from the bench and to stay on my feet. Oh dear, and I was still on rubber carpeting. What would it be like once I was on the ice?
I soon found out ... it was hell on blades.

Even with the support from my son, I stood there, too scared to move. Where were the barricades to hold on to? Where was the balance I once had? Where was the ability to do this on my own? I had once done it, why couldn’t I do this anymore?
Like a wooden doll I shuffled on my skates, in danger of going down at any moment, holding on to my son’s hand for dear life.

As he guided me around the rink I didn’t feel the cold anymore, I felt nothing except fear of going down and breaking something I might need later.
When a colleague came along I clutched at his hand too and now supported by two strong arms I started to feel a bit more secure. Given time I probably would have gotten the hang of it again, but all too soon it was time to leave the ice and head back to the office.

One of my New Year’s resolutions is to take up skating again, in a proper ice rink that is. A rink with barricades to hold on to until I find that lost balance again.

Merry Christmas

Merry Christmas!
Was yours a merry Christmas or was Christmas Eve just another evening and Christmas Day just another day? If it was, don’t worry, I’ll bet it was just another evening and just another day for a lot of folks.

The Christmas season has been somewhat romanticized by movies, TV series, books and even Christmas cards. A serene white landscape with white glistening snow; a warm yellow glow radiating from a fairly lights decorated house; a festively decked table on which sits a golden brown turkey; a family gathered around a floor to ceiling Christmas tree.
On TV and on paper it all looks so beautiful, but what about real life?

Where it comes to snow, people seldom get misty eyed when gazing upon a snowy landscape. They shiver at the thought of having to go outside or frown and sigh at the thought of having to shovel snow again.
Those who decorated their house with fairly lights are gonna get a nasty surprise when they see their electrical bill. I have to pay how much?
As for that golden brown turkey ... I’ll bet you anything that quite a few turkeys didn’t quite reach that kind of golden brown perfection. Some were probably a little pale, while others were covered up with gravy to hide a distinct blackness. And if a turkey looked good, how did it taste? Was it tender and juicy or was it a bit on the dry side?
As for the beautifully decorated Christmas tree, how many families can afford a floor to ceiling model? Most probably have to make do with a smaller version, decorated with what fit the budget or the circumstances.

For instance, I love glass balls with lots of glitter for the Christmas tree, but in my house that would be a dumb thing to use. I have five very inquisitive cats and glass balls would have a very short lifespan. So I can only decorate my tree with unbreakable balls. I also love tinsel, but that’s a no no too. My cats are not only inquisitive, they are also chewers and I rather don’t have to take them on an emergency visit to the vet due to tinsel chewing.

For large families it’s probably nice getting together on Christmas, but having them all around the dinner table does present some problems. Can you imagine how much potatoes have to be peeled to feed between ten to thirty people? Have you any idea how many vegetables have to be chopped? And what about the dishes ... who is gonna volunteer to wash all those plates, glasses and cups? Not to mention all the cooking pots and pans.

If your Christmas wasn’t all that merry, think about that. You may be single and living in a highrise, but at least you don’t have snow to shovel and your hydro bill won’t let your eyes grow the size of teacups. I’ll bet that the take-out you ordered was just as good, if not better, than that burned dried out turkey. And as for your Christmas tree ... size really doesn’t matter.
In case you didn’t get to buy any gifts, and didn’t get any gifts, what’s stopping you from buying a gift for yourself? A little something from me to me.

Don’t you go feeling sorry for yourself at Christmas, there are others who are a lot worse off than you. The hospitals are full of the sick who may or may not get better; in convalescent homes folks are trying to cope with the hand life has dealt them and all us and all of them are better off than those living on the streets, gazing upon homes, thinking of the home they once had.

TTC - The Better Way

Officially the Toronto Transit Commission is known as the TTC. Users of this type of transportation have another name for the TTC though ... Toronto Trash Cans.
The TTC’s slogan is ‘The Better Way’ but this week the subway was most certainly not the better way.

When I boarded a subway train last Wednesday, I heard the announcement that there was no service between Broadview station and St. George station.
I didn’t worry about this no-service too much, confident that by the time I got to Broadview the problem, whatever it was, would be fixed. I was wrong.
When I got to Broadview all passengers were instructed to leave the train as the train would turn back to Kennedy.

Some 300 people exited the train and joined the hundreds who already stood shivering on the Broadview platform.
After a while came the announcement that shuttle buses and streetcars would take passengers to their destination.
As another train arrived more people joined the throng of commuters already on the platform, shuffling toward the stairs. Seeing them go by, dressed in dark gear and keeping their heads down, they reminded me of the march of the penguins.

I had no intention of joining them. Cold as it was in the station, it would be even colder outside. The weather forecast had predicted -20 deg C (that’s -4 deg F) for that day and that was just a bit too cold for me.
Usually, if the TTC has a problem, it doesn’t take too long for whatever it is to be sorted out, so I preferred to wait inside. That wasn’t possible this time though. A TTC official walked the length of the platform informing everyone who, like me, had decided to wait it out, that it could take hours for the problem to be fixed.
Okay so I joined the ‘penguins’ and proceeded up the stairs too.

Ooh but it was cold. Even with a thick coat, a scarf wrapped around my head and gloves I could feel the cold wind going right through me, biting at my nose, fingers and toes. Where were the shuttle buses? Where were the streetcars? Oh they were there alright, but they were packed with people, like sardines in a can.
I got the idea of taking a cab to work. A good idea, except there was a problem ... there weren’t that many cabs available to begin with and with over a thousand people standing around Broadview station, I wasn’t alone who had thought of that.

Just then an announcement was made that the subway was up and running again and we could all go downstairs. Even though the words were greeted with relief, they presented a problem ... it would take some time for the mass of commuters to go back inside the station, down the stairs and onto a train. I suspected that it would take several trains to take care of this lot.
I was right, after we shuffled our way back onto the platform, trains - already full with peak hour passengers – had limited space to take in the waiting crowd.
Or let me put it this way ... my journey to work, which usually takes 45 minutes, that day took two and a half hours.

The TTC, the better way? I think not.

Quiet time

I’m spending an evening by myself. Dieter has gone to bed uncharacteristically early (10:30), the cats are all asleep, and with no TV and no music it’s so quiet here I can hear the tic toc tic toc of the wall clock.

This is just like old times, when I was unemployed. Back then I hardly ever went to bed before 2:30 a.m. I got up late, took a nap in the afternoon and since I didn’t have to get up early in the morning I could afford to get to bed at all hours of the night.

Since I started working again it’s quite different. I have to get up at 5:30, so I like to be in bed around 11:00.
Friday and Saturday night we usually sit up late, sometimes until 2:30 or even 3:00 a.m. We can sleep in the next day, so what does it matter when we extend an invitation to the sandman?

But tonight is different, Dieter’s right hand is broken and this little handicap has been bothering him. I guess we, with two capable hands, don’t quite realize what we have until one of them is out of action.

I could do with an early night too, because the stress of the past few weeks has been crazy. During September there was the running around of condo hunting; October brought stress with estate agents, lawyers and the bank; and if that isn't enough I had to put up with a colleague with the most annoying habit.

This guy was constantly clearing his throat and I do mean constantly.
There were times that not a minute passed without him clearing his throat. Can you imagine once a minute? That’s sixty throat clearings in an hour! I’d like to see anyone putting up with that
It a medical condition he said. Okay then why isn’t he doing something about it? Let him go see a doctor and get some medication to get it fixed. These days there is a remedy for almost anything and everything.

Okay so maybe it’s just me and I’m too sensitive, but I really can’t stand the noises people make. Whether it’s sniffing, snoring or throat clearing ... IT GETS ON MY NERVES!!!

Time management

Some blogger I am. My last entry is dated November 2nd, which means I haven’t written anything in two weeks. Has life really been that boring or have I been super busy with other things? A little of both I suppose.

There was a time that I sat up until all hours of the night, but now that I’m working (for the past three months and one week I might add) I have to be in bed at a certain time.

Of course working gets in the way of blogging too. Not only is there not a moment to spare to put a blog entry together, but at the end of the working day blogging is not exactly at the top of my list.
I usually come home bone tired. After a change of clothing and a short rest with a cup of coffee, there are chores to be done and dinner to be made.
After dinner and some TV there are email messages to be read and replied to and a farm to tend to, a farm at Farmville I mean. Ah yes, who is not playing that game these days? I’m at level 61 with limited crops, but more animals than I can handle.

And soon I will be having even less time. Yesterday we went to pick out wallpaper for the bedrooms, living room, kitchen and bathroom and I’m the one who is going to do the papering. I’ve done it before, you could say I’m an old hand at wallpapering so I don’t foresee any problems, but still, it will take time so there will be even less time for blogging. How do other people manage? Do they have a time schedule? If you know something I don't, I'd love to hear from you.

A bit of this and a bit of that

Those of you who have been reading this blog from the beginning might remember that some three and a half months ago I was bitching and whining about the heat.
The air-conditioning in our condo building had giving up and in a temperature of between 38 and 45 degrees C (100 - 113 degrees F), we were boiling in our units.

I remember sitting in front of a fan, my feet in a bucket of cold water, with a wet towel draped around my neck. All in an attempt to stay cool. The only time and place where it was sort of bearable was at night on the balcony, which is where I wrote some of these blog entries.

Now it’s a different story. Toronto got its first touch of frost last night and this morning it was bitterly cold. It warmed up a little during the day, but not much, the temperature was maybe 5 degrees C (41 degrees F). In the sun it was kind of nice, but the wind ruined every chance of warmth.

I don’t know which is worse, the heat or the cold. I suppose the heat. At least to protect oneself against the cold one can put on multiple layers of clothing, while with the heat there is only so much one can take off.

Still, I’m not looking forward to winter. From now until the end of March we’re gonna have to bundle up in sweaters and coats, scarves and gloves and shiver until our teeth rattle.

While it’s dry it’s not so bad, but oh dear, soon we might get ice and snow and that’s gonna make everything even worse. I like falling snow as much as the next person, and the white blanket does make everything look beautiful, but unfortunately that kind of beauty is fleeting. Soon the white snow turns into a gray mess, starts melting and creates ice patches. Uuuh, I can’t even think about it without shivering.

On a different subject ... as of October 29th we’re home owners. Yep, we bought the condo we’ve been living in for the past six years. During the whole of September we went condo shopping but didn’t see anything we liked. It was basically a case of, what we liked we couldn’t afford and what we could afford we didn’t like. So we decided to stay where we are.

On a different note still ... last weekend Dieter and I played in a ten-pin bowling tournament. We weren’t going to play at first, seeing the entry fee was $50 per person, but in the end we couldn’t stop ourselves. I noticed how much Dieter wanted to play, wanted to test his skills against other bowlers and truth be told I like a bit of competition too. So we entered.

Two squads were to play, the first squad at 12:00 and the second at 2:00 p.m. We played in the 2:00 p.m. time slot. We played four games qualifying and at the end of that round we were in first place.
Next came the finals which were three games round robin.
And we nailed it. We beat our opponents one after another and with only two teams remaining (we and another team) it was time for the slaughter.
Dieter played an amazing game and scored 246, beating the pants off the competition. I didn’t do too bad either and so together we took first place!
Prize money ... (drum roll) $800.
We floated home on Cloud 9.

Is this the beginning of good times to come?

Is that fake falcon meant to scare me?

 
Pigeons are smart birds. If anyone doubts this, just watch them downtown Toronto.

Ryerson University has placed two fake falcons on the ledge of their building to keep the pigeons away. So far this has worked, but something tells me this is about to change.
Today I watched a small flock of pigeons looking for a place to land at Ryerson University. Most of them flew away when spotting the falcon and settled at a neighboring building, but one of them felt brave (or lucky). He spotted the two falcons, circled around one of them a few times, then gathered up all his courage and plonked himself next to one.

Then he sat there, looking at the fake falcon, not quite sure what this make of this motionless bird. He crept a little closer, gaining confidence but still not trusting the predator.
After traipsing back and forth a bit, with no reaction from the falcon, the pigeon lowered his head and cast a sideways glance.
He clearly didn’t understand the bird. As a predator he was supposed to show an interest, but not only did he tolerate a pigeon next to him but he ignored the easy pry’s entertainment.

My guess is, if this pigeon figured out that the falcon is fake then so will others and in that case Ryerson University’s security system against pigeons is blown. If word gets out about the fake falcons they’ll be the laughing stock of the bird world.

In Scarborough one of the pigeons went a step further.
In one of the yards of the houses next to the RT railway the residents have placed a pole with a fake falcon at the top. Instead of scaring the pigeons away, the falcon has become a resting place for the birds as I noticed a pigeon sitting on top of the fake falcon.

Fake falcons ... humans are so stupid thinking the pigeons are gonna fall for that one. Don't they know how smart pigeons are? They have eyes, they have a brain, they'll figure it out and then watch out humans ... their revenge will be sweet.