flu season

We've all been hit by the flu around here lately. Last Friday, after surviving the initial burst that Kim and my daughter fell victim to, I spent the night sharing the bathroom with my son. We took turns. I managed to crawl out of it by Sunday night, just in time to go to work on Monday.

Sigh.

Why can't I get sick during the week instead of the weekend. We're all better, however tonight, my daughter again ran for the bathroom. A week to the day since she got it last time, it's back. Kim spent her day off yesterday bleaching every touched surface in the house, and opened every window for most of the day, bringing scornful comments when my son came home from school about the fact that it was warmer outside.

We've been through the worst flu season in our families history this week, all four of us hugging a toilet almost simultaneously. It wasn't fun.

I didn't eat a lot for about five days, and weighing in at a whopping 140 pounds, that's not something I can well afford to do. I did come home tonight to a wonderful dinner and all four of us with appetites, the first sit down dinner since last week. That all eroded within hours. Now we're back fighting the demon.

Tomorrow should be fun - again. Seems like we've all done this before. Here's hoping it passes me by this time, we don't need spring coming in like this.

Cheers.

The couch

Yesterday I decided I hate my couch. Before I took Kim to work in the morning I told her that in no uncertain terms. The couch is an old, ripped up piece of crap. It does have a couple things going for it - It's big and very easy to fall asleep on, but ick, it's just ugly. It was a freebee about 10 years ago, so it's had a good run, of all the old 'apartment' furniture we started with, the couch is the last remaining piece of early marriage start up stuff. Over the years we've disposed of most of the cast offs and begun to build our own collection. When mom passed away and dad sold the house, we acquired a great deal of their antique furniture, something I consider heirloom, not cast off, you certainly wouldn't find any of this stuff on a curbside.

Dad lived with us after he sold the house, so essentially, he still had all his furniture. It was just in our living room upstairs instead of his downstairs, especially his couch. When we moved in here, dad had his own apartment, and his sofa went down there for him. Getting it down there was a feat to itself and we vowed that it would never come out of the basement.

Until yesterday.

In my living room, one sees a unique collection of furniture, my mom's easy chair, an old wing back, a marble top cabinet that has to be a hundred years old, the old victorian style coffee table (actually dating from the 60s, but it looks nice), and one really ugly couch. Time for change.

As I was laying on the 'new' couch yesterday in dad's living room; which is now the family room since his passing, playing a game on the PS2, I realized what I needed to do. I paused my game, pulled out the tools and started working. I removed the kitchen cabinet that prevented access to the doorway, removed the door and the jams to that room, removed the banister from the stairway, and moved anything out of my way that would prevent the sofa's escape. I asked a friend for help, and we were on our way.

Within an hour, we had the beautiful antique sofa in the living room, along with the matching chair, and the old ugly one was relegated to the family room. All pretty effortless considered the vow that it would never happen. It did.

So now, in my eyes, the living room is complete, a showcase sitting room, where I would be happy to accept company and entertain guests. OK, so the 'new' couch isn't as comfy as the old junky one, but we'll get over that. For the most part, we don't even use that room, the TV is rarely on anymore, the room has become a staging area of sorts - people get up in the morning, sit there over waky waky juice deciding a game plan, and then move off.

Kim's not too happy, but at least I didn't move something in front of a door this time. In our old apartment, I moved the furniture around while she was at work and forgot to tell her. That night she came in leaving the lights off so as not to wake us (Iain was a baby then), she tiptoed in and smashed into the chair I'd moved. I woke up to a loud 'ooophf'. She never forgave me or let me forget that.

At least this time all the pieces are in the same place as the old ones. Today's job is to put the kitchen sink back together, replace the banister and rehang the door I took apart to get the thing through. No job is finished until the mess is taken care of.

Cheers.

A new internet antagonist

New blog out there, check it out...

http://logicallychallenged.wordpress.com

Can't type...

Olympics...

night.

Disturbingly intriguing

So Windsor is finally (?) on Google Street View. I have mixed feelings about this. It's really disturbing to see my house in all it's detail on the internet. We're in the mix now, with millions of other homes online. A sort of visual phonebook. Now, with online reverse look up cabability, it's easy to identify who lives in whatever house catches your fancy. Too easy, and too scary. Google has made efforts to obscure faces and license plates and other identifying marks on it's photos, but it isn't quite enough. On the other voyeuristic side of the coin, it's really quite entertaining! I found myself spending a lot of time just cruising Windsor's streets looking around. A kind of virtual walk - of course being winter, that's the only way I want to get around this town right now - from home. Believe me, there's lots to see.

When the images first went up, we immediately raised waves because of something unfortunately and untimely caught - a murder scene. Just two hours before Google's car went down Wyandotte near Wellington, a man was knifed in the Leopard's parking lot. On the first night, the scene was online, complete with crime scene tape, cruisers and a large blood stain. What a great way for Windsor to make it's international voyeurism debut. Luckily, Google saw the error of it's ways and removed the images. Well, almost all of them. there is still one shot where you can plainly see the tape and one cruiser. I of course, captured it.

There is also this shot...

My niece on a swing in the local park, staring straight at the camera. It's obvious it's her, she lives on that swing in the summer. Really? children on the neighbourhood swing is not out of the ordinary, but it's still a little wrong in my books.

Google also caught some images that are just plain interesting, things completely normal, but now captured permanently. Like the guy getting a speeding ticket on Ouellette Avenue, or the two guys with the wheelbarrow moving screening gravel off a residential street. They were looking right at the camera, they knew what it was, as did the guy waving to the car.

Windsor endured a very painful and long employee strike last year. Guess when Google arrived. Yup, as the pics of the long grass, garbage piles, arbitration signs, and strikers in front of city hall can attest, the world now sees Windsor at it's finest. A dirty, stinky, angry mess. It doesn't take much to find these images, pretty much any park will do. I avoided taking caps of the lineup at the city dump - too many bad memories there.

But along with capturing us at our worst, they also captured our best. There are many areas of Windsor that have long been notable for their beauty, historical significance, and serene nature. Places people go to enjoy long lazy summer days, or private places extraordinarily well kept. There is one place I love to ride by every now and then - the Lowe

Martin house - childhood home of Paul Martin Jr., former Prime Minister of Canada. After years of neglect, this gorgeous rumrunner house has finally been purchased and is undergoing an extensive restoration, and the owner is sparing no expense to maintain it's historical look and feel. I like to buzz by on warm days to see how he's doing. The new owner has been known to invite people into the home to see the progress. He understands the significance of the place, and he wants it to be a part of Windsor's history - not history itself. He even had school classes tour the home. It's too bad there aren't more of these guys - well to do enough to make a difference and well to heart enough to care.

There's blight, burned out homes, empty lots, vacant buildings, graffiti, and a number of other things you may expect from a large city, but you'll get that everywhere. What bothered me most was the image of the former Grace Hospital, where my mother trained as a nurse, worked here entire life, had her memorial service after her passing; where all three of her children and five of her grandchildren were born. It's in ruin. It's being rebuilt as a long term care facility, but still, seeing it like it is now, captured, is just wrong. I have too many good memories of the place to see it like that.

Google has made these places easier to find. But with all the crap this city has endured lately, let's look at the positive. Windsor is a very green, very vibrant place. Lots of trees, lots of people, lots of activity. With every shot there were bicycles, joggers, families, or just people just going on about their days, mostly with total disregard for what just captured them.

I'm only glad I didn't see myself anywhere. I have adding some more here, most don't need any sort of commentary, they're just random shots. However, I'm particularly fond of the pic of the port-a-john right smack in the middle of the Ambassador Bridge - right on the border between the US and Canada. Draw you're own conclusions.

Enjoy.

Winter?

The networks were all over the snowstorm today, huge warnings, one station in Detroit even declared a snow emergency the day before the storm hit. So heading off down the highway to Kingsville this morning was not without it's reservations. I had been listening all morning and was fully prepared for at least six inches of blowing snow coming home, the storm they said, would be at it's worst around Tuesday evening, just before dusk.

Great.

I leave work Tuesday evening, just before dusk.

So after work, with the sun still up, I cleaned off the car and hit the road. The snowplows had been busy all day in this sleepy little town, they always are. Kingsville keeps their roads well maintained, but I slid sideways just pulling out. I edged my way onto the highway, not because of the snow, but because grandpa in front of me had never seen it before, and decided to drive 20 in a 70. Luckily, he turned off, and I was left with the open road.

Bah.

This wasn't a snowstorm. Growing up we had snowstorms. Having your mother ask you to dig out the car and you asking which pile is was; that was a snowstorm. This was nothing. This 'storm' was the first real snow we've seen this year, which at the end of the day doesn't bother me one bit. Less shoveling, less scraping, less shit. I like the look of it on the trees and in the backyard, and I appreciate the potential it brings for winter fun, but I drive alot. And I don't miss it. Clean open roads are a blessing in February. Those poor people on the Atlantic seaboard are socked in and suffering, and I'm doing 100 down the highway.

Hee hee. I don't apologize for laughing at your pain, I'm sure the people in the south are laughing at both of us.

Anyway, I sauntered home tonight, maxxed out at 60 on the Arner Townline, the snow there was blowing across the road with a good clip, and Arner is known for it's massive ditches on either side - one wrong move and your car disappears. Turning onto Highway 3, the road opened up, the snow was clear and I headed straight on to Windsor. No problem.

Then I hit Windsor. No frickin' plows anywhere. The roads were slick and covered, and the other drivers meandered along like they were leisurely window shopping at the mall. 20 on Walker. Nice. Barely any cars in sight. When I finally got to a plowed portion of the road, I opened the throttle to a blistering 30 kph in a 60 zone. That was on clear road.

The normal 45 minute drive took around one hour and ten minutes tonight, not bad for the snow emergency day. I'm a very careful driver, I tend to hold the wheel with both hands when the need arises, but I also know how to move the car when the time comes. The biggest problem tonight wasn't the weather, it was the people who should NOT have been driving in it because they just don't know how.

Maybe if we actually had snow around here anymore people would be used to it, but we don't, so we have idiots. C'est la vie.

They're calling for another 5 inches overnight, so the morning commute should be about the same, but judging by tonight, I should only swear alot until I get out of this city. We'll see.

My son asked me if he could stay home tomorrow because of the snow. When I was done laughing, I replied that when I can't get to work after a 45 minute highway drive, he can stay home. Until then, get out your boots. The bell rings at 8:30.

Cheers.