If you've wondered why there has been no entries in the past 5 months, I have a simple explanation - I'm going through a divorce. As well as taking up a fair amount of time, the thoughts I've been having haven't been ones that I am keen on sharing with the WHOLE WORLD, if you know what I mean.
I've been blogging, but not here. My soon-to-be-Ex is now a reader of the new site, so I'll invite everyone over that wants to read about my new direction in life.
As the facade of 'Sean, the happily married man' falls away, so ends this blog. I've enjoyed having No Comment as a touchstone to my past - a way to relive and remember. This will continue to be a location I come back to.
You can catch up with the recent action or start reading from my first entry at the new site, aptly named, "Post Parting."
Tuesday, September 14, 2004
Monday, August 23, 2004
I'm driving down the Deerfoot this morning when I see a 20 year old Ford pickup rattling down the center lane. The paint is badly faded from its original silver color, the fenders are dented with spots of rust along the bottoms of the panels and randomly blemishing the upper half of the vehicle. It looks like attempts have been made to keep this truck running. Someone has even tried to stay some of the more serious body damage with Bondo and primer paint, so it takes me a while to notice that three letters and an exclamation mark have been spray-painted on the tailgate of the Ford.
L O E !
The letters intrigue me, as I can't figure out what they mean. I look and ponder, running acronyms through my head until I finally realize that each of the spray-painted letters is in between one of the letters on the vehicle's logo, sending a message to everyone who's stuck behind this piece of rolling junk that's only going 100 km/hour down the highway.
The letters intrigue me, as I can't figure out what they mean. I look and ponder, running acronyms through my head until I finally realize that each of the spray-painted letters is in between one of the letters on the vehicle's logo, sending a message to everyone who's stuck behind this piece of rolling junk that's only going 100 km/hour down the highway.
Thursday, August 19, 2004
Friday, August 13, 2004
Har har! Ho ho! Fencepost holes are done, and not a minute too soon. The family returns to the house after a five day trip to the Okanagan, and my goal was to be done. I find I get so much more done when I'm the only family member around. Don't get me wrong - I *do* enjoy their company, but as Barbara Coloroso has mentioned, parenting is not an efficient profession.
It wasn't all work, though - heat exhaustion sets in pretty fast when you are using a hand-auger in 30+ heat. I spent some of the week relaxing as it was my vacation, too. I've started a few paperback novels, watched some trashy primetime TV and did some laying around.
Doing nothing isn't as bad as most people make it out to be. Our society focuses so much on "accomplishing" something in every waking hour. Even when someone takes a vacation, it is assumed that they are taking time off to work on a project (as I did) or to travel. You don't need to do anything specific to rejuvenate yourself. Sometimes quiet reflection is enough.
It wasn't all work, though - heat exhaustion sets in pretty fast when you are using a hand-auger in 30+ heat. I spent some of the week relaxing as it was my vacation, too. I've started a few paperback novels, watched some trashy primetime TV and did some laying around.
Doing nothing isn't as bad as most people make it out to be. Our society focuses so much on "accomplishing" something in every waking hour. Even when someone takes a vacation, it is assumed that they are taking time off to work on a project (as I did) or to travel. You don't need to do anything specific to rejuvenate yourself. Sometimes quiet reflection is enough.
Sunday, August 08, 2004
When my neighbor, Mr. G., came to me with the idea of replacing the fence between us, it sounded like such a good summer project. He, being an older gentleman in failing health, offered to pay the lion's share of the materials if I would do the manual labour. The old fence was definitely in need of replacement (being 40 years old) and the new fence would be the same location, size and colour as the existing fence. Tear down the old one, put up a new one.
Doesn't sound like a Herculean task, does it?
Somehow, this little project has stretched from late June until now, almost 2 months after lumber was purchased. Mr. G., who is normally a patient and kind man, is starting to run out of patience. He phoned me a few days ago and mentioned that he had asked a landscaper to give him a quote on finishing the project for me (I've got the old fence disassembled and disposed of, as well as half of the post holes cleared out) and wanted to know if I wanted to hire them instead. I assured him that I had plans to finish, and that I would somehow delay the other things that were keeping me from the fence.
I've taken this week off work and have sent the family to the Okanagan so that I am free of job, parental and all other obligations, so that I might focus on the fence. So far, the weather hasn't been co-operating. Yesterday (Saturday) was rainy and today's not much better. I am resting and recharging my energy. When I changed my business voicemail tonight, I realized that I haven't taken a work break since November of last year. Even that break was a busy one, filled with parental responsibility and the general hubbub of international travel (we went to Greece so The Missus could compete in a marathon). It wasn't what I'd call a restful vacation.
So, in between digging posts and hand-mixing concrete, I plan to enjoy the solitude that an empty house holds.
Doesn't sound like a Herculean task, does it?
Somehow, this little project has stretched from late June until now, almost 2 months after lumber was purchased. Mr. G., who is normally a patient and kind man, is starting to run out of patience. He phoned me a few days ago and mentioned that he had asked a landscaper to give him a quote on finishing the project for me (I've got the old fence disassembled and disposed of, as well as half of the post holes cleared out) and wanted to know if I wanted to hire them instead. I assured him that I had plans to finish, and that I would somehow delay the other things that were keeping me from the fence.
I've taken this week off work and have sent the family to the Okanagan so that I am free of job, parental and all other obligations, so that I might focus on the fence. So far, the weather hasn't been co-operating. Yesterday (Saturday) was rainy and today's not much better. I am resting and recharging my energy. When I changed my business voicemail tonight, I realized that I haven't taken a work break since November of last year. Even that break was a busy one, filled with parental responsibility and the general hubbub of international travel (we went to Greece so The Missus could compete in a marathon). It wasn't what I'd call a restful vacation.
So, in between digging posts and hand-mixing concrete, I plan to enjoy the solitude that an empty house holds.
Thursday, August 05, 2004
I washed my hands nine times today, and the day is not even over.
And no, all nine times weren't for the reason that you are thinking. Ewww!
And no, all nine times weren't for the reason that you are thinking. Ewww!
- Washing hands and face just after waking up
- brushing teeth after breakfast
- morning shower after workout
- pre-work pee
- going to eat an apple at my desk, wanted clean hands
- Late morning bathroom "visit"
- prior to lunch, wanted clean hands
- post lunch pee
- afternoon face wash, helping to wake me up
Does this seem obsessive?
Went out for a nice bike ride with Bob and The Torpedo this morning. I can kick both their butts on the bicycle.
I had a flat for the first time in 1300 kms (accourding to my trusty, dusty bike computer). I was certainly envying the lovely carbon fibre that my two riding mates were on. My bike is 18 years old this summer, and though it has carried my for tens of thousands of kilometres and endured all sorts of abuse by me, I am considering getting a new one some day. 12 gears just doesn't cut it, nevermind the non-indexed shifting levers on the downtube. I *could* upgrade components, but that's just going to require more cash than a new purchase.
What's a fella to do?
I had a flat for the first time in 1300 kms (accourding to my trusty, dusty bike computer). I was certainly envying the lovely carbon fibre that my two riding mates were on. My bike is 18 years old this summer, and though it has carried my for tens of thousands of kilometres and endured all sorts of abuse by me, I am considering getting a new one some day. 12 gears just doesn't cut it, nevermind the non-indexed shifting levers on the downtube. I *could* upgrade components, but that's just going to require more cash than a new purchase.
What's a fella to do?
Wednesday, August 04, 2004
The Windermere Triathlon is done for another year. The race was a bit of a dissapointment as I haven't trained as throughly as I would have liked. The day was glorious, as usual for that location. I was staying with a friend who has a second home in Invermere (he refers to it as 'the cottage') and enjoyed the hospitality and vacation time.
Thursday, July 29, 2004
When summer vacation happens, children everywhere are thrilled ... for about the first week. Then boredom sets in. We, as parents, are responsible for the supervison and (to a lesser extent) the entertainment of our children. Some parents just send their children outside to play. Some buy new cartridges for the family X-Box. Some ship them off to other relatives' houses and hope that they find a way to keep them busy. Some, (like us) enroll our kids in daytime themed "camps" where they are supervised for us while we work to, uh, pay for the said camp. That just doesn't sound right, does it?
Banana and McMonk have started their run of summer camps. These past two weeks, our two little hams have been enrolled in the Pumphouse Theatre's camp. They get to learn about set design, diction, script writing, singing, costume preparation and other aspects of putting on a show. Each day as I drove them to camp on my way to work, they would bounce around in the back seat, revving themselves up so that they could run showmanship laps around each other and the other campers the moment they arrived. Even as we were getting out of the car with the other kids within earshot, Banana and McMonk needed to talk over each other. All of them at once seem to need the attention of the counselors, who were on the caffeinated activation level as their little charges. Wild hair styles, flashy clothes, ear-catching voices were all part of the normal atmosphere. They were in for a super, super, SUPER-charged day. It was an agoraphobic's nightmare. The end of the day was a different story.
When we came to pick them up, our children would quickly wind down from their frenzied, manic camp personas to a quieter version of themselves. They reverted to a version that needed solitude to recharge before the next high-energy camp day. We each breathed a sigh of relief and took them back home, where they retreated to their rooms and where they would read, play quietly or just relax for the rest of the evening.
Tonight was different. The plays that they had put together over the span of the camp were presented. Fifty sets of parents sat in the darkened theatre and watched what their children had been up to for the past two weeks. Filled with inside jokes, the performances were delightful. Each of the campers got the spotlight (literally) for a few moments. Lines that they had been dying to say, longing to deliver were finally presented. The performances were aimed at humor, but each character had wry, subtle touches of individuality that would only be recognized by a parent.
I am impressed but not surprised by the confidence that Banana and McMonk show when they are on stage, delivering to the masses. They are the kind of cool, confident kids that I was afraid to talk to as a youth. I hope they are nice to the shy, quiet kids.
Banana and McMonk have started their run of summer camps. These past two weeks, our two little hams have been enrolled in the Pumphouse Theatre's camp. They get to learn about set design, diction, script writing, singing, costume preparation and other aspects of putting on a show. Each day as I drove them to camp on my way to work, they would bounce around in the back seat, revving themselves up so that they could run showmanship laps around each other and the other campers the moment they arrived. Even as we were getting out of the car with the other kids within earshot, Banana and McMonk needed to talk over each other. All of them at once seem to need the attention of the counselors, who were on the caffeinated activation level as their little charges. Wild hair styles, flashy clothes, ear-catching voices were all part of the normal atmosphere. They were in for a super, super, SUPER-charged day. It was an agoraphobic's nightmare. The end of the day was a different story.
When we came to pick them up, our children would quickly wind down from their frenzied, manic camp personas to a quieter version of themselves. They reverted to a version that needed solitude to recharge before the next high-energy camp day. We each breathed a sigh of relief and took them back home, where they retreated to their rooms and where they would read, play quietly or just relax for the rest of the evening.
Tonight was different. The plays that they had put together over the span of the camp were presented. Fifty sets of parents sat in the darkened theatre and watched what their children had been up to for the past two weeks. Filled with inside jokes, the performances were delightful. Each of the campers got the spotlight (literally) for a few moments. Lines that they had been dying to say, longing to deliver were finally presented. The performances were aimed at humor, but each character had wry, subtle touches of individuality that would only be recognized by a parent.
I am impressed but not surprised by the confidence that Banana and McMonk show when they are on stage, delivering to the masses. They are the kind of cool, confident kids that I was afraid to talk to as a youth. I hope they are nice to the shy, quiet kids.
Sunday, July 25, 2004
Saturday, July 24, 2004
Friday, July 23, 2004
Thursday, July 22, 2004
Think nothing much changes with you from day to day? Check out what J-K Keller did to document his apparent lack of change.
Your face changes, based on stresses, weather, daily activity (or lack thereof), emotions, attitude ... nevermind what you can do to you hair. I've seen similar projects done by taking monthly or yearly shots of people, but nothing that shows daily changes. what a great regimen.
The web is a perfect showcase for amazingly dedicated projects like this.
Your face changes, based on stresses, weather, daily activity (or lack thereof), emotions, attitude ... nevermind what you can do to you hair. I've seen similar projects done by taking monthly or yearly shots of people, but nothing that shows daily changes. what a great regimen.
The web is a perfect showcase for amazingly dedicated projects like this.
Tuesday, July 20, 2004
Thursday, July 15, 2004
Sunday, July 04, 2004
I took Canada Day off, and everything at work held together.
Friday night (Saturday morning, actually) we did some late-night work that required us to be up until 5:30 am. The rest of Saturday morning was spent hugging the pillow until noon.
Today, work was closed and I prepared for the big fence building project at the house. Tomorrow, we pressure-wash the deck and prepare for staining.
Busy little bees, aren't we?
At least I got a blog entry in.
Friday night (Saturday morning, actually) we did some late-night work that required us to be up until 5:30 am. The rest of Saturday morning was spent hugging the pillow until noon.
Today, work was closed and I prepared for the big fence building project at the house. Tomorrow, we pressure-wash the deck and prepare for staining.
Busy little bees, aren't we?
At least I got a blog entry in.
Monday, June 28, 2004
Remember when you were in grade seven and you went to your first party? And your friend who was having it, had, like, pop and food and a stereo and great music? And all the kids from your class came, even the cool guys and girls came too? And there was even some slow dances, and someone said that it was girls' choice? And your friend that had the party, their parents were there, and they were, like, hanging around and looking at everything and like totally spying on everybody?
Well, right now, I'm that parent.
Well, right now, I'm that parent.