Good-bye Gordo

With the resignation of BC Premier Gordon Campbell earlier this week, many British Columbians have been heard to say, “About time,” and “Good riddance.” But is it really?

Think about it. Think about the government which preceded the Liberals in BC. Think about what went on. Think about how unstable our province was, politically and economically. Think about how much we all wished we lived in Alberta instead.

Do we really want to return our beloved province to those days? I think not.

Carole James seems to be heralding Campbell’s resignation as a sign that the NDP will soon regain control of the province. Oh really? Only if the voters of BC conveniently manage to forget BingoGate . . . and what about the 6 NDP Premiers we had in 10 years?

Do we really want to return to that kind of political instability? Not to mention the embarrassment of fiascos like BingoGate. I certainly don’t.

When I first interviewed Gordon Campbell, way back when he was still fairly new to the provincial political scene, something he said then stuck in my mind. He based his economic policies on the things his mother taught him. And the most important thing she taught him (please forgive me, if I can’t remember the exact quote, it’s been awhile), was that you can’t spend money you don’t have. Under the NDP, there was a lot of unwise spending going on – the ferries come to mind.

You know what? That’s exactly what Gordon Campbell and the Liberals did. They tried not to spend money they didn’t have. They pulled our provincial economy out of the toilet.

Yes, they made some bad decisions. Like the whole thing with closing the care homes, so that our elderly don’t have enough places to go, to receive proper care. That’s up there on my list of Gordo’s big mistakes.

The HST is another bad decision. When an overwhelming number of voters in the province sign petitions against something, it’s a clear sign that we don’t want it. We live in a democracy. In a democracy, the people are supposed to have a say. Looks like Gordo has finally realized that . . . too bad he didn’t clue in when Blair Lekstrom resigned his cabinet post and handed back his Liberal Party membership. It might have saved him a lot of grief.

I really hope the BC Liberals manage to elect someone good, to replace Campbell as leader. Someone with good economic sense, someone with tough moral fibre, someone who’s not going to lead BC down paths we really don’t want, or need to travel again.

Good-bye Gordon . . . it’s been real.

Today's word is: Remediation

Remediation. That’s a word which has been thrown around quite a bit lately, in the media. It kind of reminds me of synergy and synergies, the buzz words of the late 1990s and early 2000s. The two words, synergy and remediation are nothing alike, obviously, but it is the frequency with which the words have been used, that is familiar to me.

Synergy: increased effectiveness, achievement etc., produced by combined action, co-operation etc. (from the Canadian Oxford Dictionary pp 1471, 1998 edition)

Yet I cannot find an actual definition of remediation in this same dictionary. I’ve got remedy, and remedial . . . but no remediation. The definition which seems to best meet the most frequent use of the word is this: means of counteracting or removing anything undesirable.

One can see, given the state of the world’s economies, governments, etc., why remediation seems to becoming this decade’s newest buzzword.

I hate buzzwords, with a passion. Every time a new one surfaces, you know there is always a better, simpler, less convoluted word, or words, which can be used in it’s place.

Take for example, the site where the Fort Hotel once stood. Following the fire which destroyed the building, it became an even greater eyesore, than when it was simply an old, dilapidated building. Did the owners care? No. As all Fort St. John residents know, he merely slapped up a butt-ugly fence in a token gesture to public safety, and called it good. The City forked over a sizeable chunk of money to put up a better fence. I’ve heard figures between $10,000 and $40,000 for this fence. It’s a very pretty fence. But it doesn’t change the fact, that what lies behind it, is a disgrace.

So, the owner fails to clean up the property. He refuses to pay his property taxes, and claimed to be “donating” the property to the City. What a big-hearted, community-minded individual he is. Horseshit. The Fort has been nothing but a farce since the day that guy bought and said he was going to turn it into a pub and sushi bar.

Now that it belongs to the City, the property is going to be remediated to the tune of $200,000+. Really. They are going to “counteract or remove anything undesirable”?

Don’t they really mean, clean it up? Hey, yeah! Why don’t they do that?? Just clean it up! I bet it costs taxpayers a heck of a lot less than remediation. After-all, I seem to remember that using synergies cost us a lot of money.

Just say what you mean. It’s not like it’s gonna kill you.

That’s it for today. Thanks, as always, for reading. I’m going to go remediate the lunch dishes now, and perhaps remediate the laundry pile as well, before the kids come home from school. Then I’ll get them to put some synergies to work to remediate their bedrooms . . . after they’ve done their homework.

Mums CAN do sport

Our son thinks his mother can't do sport. Not sure where he gets this idea. Okay, generally speaking, I am the baking, sewing, knitting, photo-taking, scrapbooking, gardening kind of Mum. And I'm not ashamed of that. However, I'm not some stick-in-the-mud who doesn't know which end of a hockey stick to hold.

He knows, intellectually anyhow, that I have played sports. He's gone for a run with me, we've gone for bike rides, and I taught him some of the finer points of cross-country skiing. And, of course, I've been taking all the kids swimming since they were babies. But, he has it in his head that I can't play hockey.


Okay, okay. Not on ice. I have never, ever played ice hockey. But I can skate fairly well. I can even do spins - on purpose. But I haven't played ice hockey, so he thinks I can't play hockey. Period.

Silly, silly boy. Your lack of faith will seal your doom on the driveway, and in the yard. Trust me. As I demonstrated yesterday afternoon.


Now that we actually have somewhere safe to play driveway hockey, I thought it was about time we had some equipment. So, after school, we went to Ernie's and bought some sticks, day-glo orange balls, and a couple of cones to use as a goal, in the event that our soccer net blows away during the course of the game. It turns out, that our son is just like his father . . . he may be right-handed, but he handles the stick like a lefty! 


Once we got home, with our small collection of sticks and balls, our son gets his out, and starts taunting me. Me. His mother. She who gave him life. He won't be doing that again. No way. Without cheating, with no under-handed moves, illegal checking/tripping, or anything else unsportsman-like, I got that ball away from him (he said I couldn't). I kept it away from both him and the dog. Jake, the dog, has no qualms about trying to knock people over or push them out of the way to get the ball. He is, after-all, a dog, and he just wants to play.

When we were done, I said, "See?" Our son said nothing. Our daughters were cheering me on, though. "By the way, didn't I mention that I played Field Hockey at university?" Jaw drops slightly. He nods. "That was field hockey, son."


I gave the stick to our oldest daughter, and the ball back to our son. "I want to play hockey as good as you, Mum," said the 7-year old girl. Awwwww, warm fuzzies. Thanks sweetie.

Now, don't tell my Dad . . . but the move to New Zealand has proved useful after-all. The game I learned to play in the 5th Form has served me well as a mother. Who would've thunk it??


Oh yeah, and I can play hockey in a skirt. Like to see Wayne Gretzky or Sidney Crosby do that!!

Sometimes, you just have to giggle

My husband and I were watching CTV News a couple of weeks ago - depressing stuff, more strife in the West Bank, Afganistan (as always), firey car wrecks . . . you name it. And let's not forget the gross state of the Commonwealth Games Atheletes Village - that was truly disgusting. I hope they got it all cleaned up in time for the atheletes' arrival.

Anyhow, amid all this depressing, violent and revolting news, we discovered something that had us both in stitches. I swear, tears were running down my face, and I could hardly breathe, I was laughing so hard!!

Just a note: we have a PVR satellite receiver, so we can rewind and play shows in slow-motion. And rewind and slow-mo we did. Not to mention, pausing on the truly funny parts.

Suspense killing you, yet??


CTV News has a correspondent, I believe he's in Toronto. He has a great voice, is clear and pronounces everything correctly, without any lame cliches thrown in for colour. If he was in radio, he would be one of the best news guys ever.


But . . . he has a very expressive pair of eyebrows. Extremely expressive. They just kill us, every time we see him! And it's even funnier in slow-motion!!


I recorded last Thursday's newscast, because I wanted to see the bit about the Fisher Price recalls and, of course, the death of actor Tony Curtis. And there, in the middle of the broadcast, was Omar, he of the uber-expressive eyebrows. I finally got around to watching it last night, after the kids were in bed. It was marvellous. The kids had been fighting and being obnoxious - I think they were cranky from too many late nights on the weekend! - but Omar and his dancing eyebrows just wiped all the grumpy feelings away, in a seemingly endless gale of laughter!


Thank-you Omar. I know, you can't help it, but that's okay. We don't want you to. We love to watch you in slow-motion . . . you know, he could probably package all his newscasts on DVD and sell them on E-Bay as stress-relieving videos. Forget those little rubber balls you're supposed to squeeze (or are they for carpal tunnel syndrome?), forget soothing music, forget alcohol, forget sweating the stress away at the gym. Just get your daily dose of Omar's eyebrows, and giggle your troubles away!!

Change is in the air

Change is in the air this week. Not a change in the seasons, although that will come soon enough. A big change in our lives . . . next week, at long last, we're moving to the farm. The farm, which has been in my husband's family for 3 generations now . . . his grandparents homesteaded there back in the 1930s or early 1940s, when there was no such thing as the Alaska Highway, and no doubt it took most of the day to make a trip to town and back again. Living 10 km out of town is but a short drive for us, but it is out of town!

No more paperboys letting their dogs piddle on my plants, while cutting across our front yard to deliver the paper to the neighbours house. No more listening to the domestic struggles of the people in the apartment building behind our house. No more worrying about the dog being scared of fireworks on Canada Day. Peace and quiet shall reign.

But, on the other hand . . . we're moving away from awesome neighbours and a friendly neighbourhood. The kids won't be able to walk to school anymore. We won't be able to send the kids to the corner store for a newspaper (take that paperboy!), or a jug of milk if we run out. No more community walking trail outside our door . . . although, we will have 320 acres to run around in!

Yup, change is in the air, and that change is good, but it will be a bit of an adjustment. How will we survive, living 10 km from the nearest Tim Horton's? Good thing we have a skookum coffee pot (from Tim's as a matter of fact), to tide us over.

The biggest change . . . other than having a bigger house to clean (with 3 toilets!!) . . . will be the extra freedom the kids and the dog will have. No more worries about people hooning down the street without looking for children. No more worries about stray dogs . . . our dog will be able to roam free on our property. And he's old, so he won't stray, he's getting to be a bit of a homebody in his old age! He can live out his days, in the shade of the tractor, chasing bugs when he feels like it, fetching sticks for the kids to throw, and snoozing whenever he likes. He won't have to leap up and freak out every time someone goes by the house, because the road is a long way from the house.

Of course, if a deer comes into the yard, looking to eat my flowers or veges, the dog will, no doubt, give it a run for it's money. Right onto the neighbouring farm!

The Americans are coming . . . the Americans are coming!

Yes, indeedy the Americans are coming . . . I spotted the first RV from the USA this morning on the highway, heading north to Alaska.

Clearly, spring has arrived.

From now on out, every day, there will be more and more Americans on the World-Famous Alaska Highway, heading out into the wilderness. Every single year this happens. As we progress into May, rather than seeing a single RV or maybe a pair, there will be dozens of them travelling together, northbound.

This, more than the melting snow, more than the budding trees, more than the potholes emerging from the snow, is a sign of spring in the BC Peace region. When our neighbours to the south, decide it's either too hot down there, or that it must be warm enough up here by now, to make the long trek to Alaska.

For some, it truly is a long trek. I've seen license plates from as far away as Texas, California, Arizona and Florida. Once I even saw one from Hawaii. Yes, Hawaii!! I couldn't believe my eyes. Had to turn around and follow that guy, just to make sure. Certainly, he was driving a car, not an RV, but a car in northeastern British Columbia with Hawaii license plates?? Call me crazy, but that was something to see!

So watch out for that bumper to bumper traffic folks, the Americans are coming . . . and are bringing the warmer weather with them!

Crime shouldn't pay, ever.

Crime shouldn't pay. Ever. I'm not talking about crime fiction . . . I'm talking about real people, committing real, abhorrent crimes and profitting from them. Specifically, I'm talking about Clifford Robert Olson.

I never thought I'd live to see the day when I would be writing about him. After-all, when he murdered those 11 kids, I was the same age as some of his victims. By rights, he should've been long dead. But he isn't. And now he's making money again.

Granted, it's not a lot of money, but after the hue and cry over the $100,000 his family was paid for information regarding the location of his victims' bodies, you'd think the government would've cut him off of all possible forms of taxpayer funds a long, long time ago.

Apparently now, the man I consider to be Canada's worst criminal - you can't get much worse than a killer of children, although Willie Pickton comes in a close second! - is collecting both CPP and OAS!!

Is the government nuts?? What are they smoking up on Parliament Hill?? Must be something good, if they can even consider giving such a man any more money. Money, by the way, which came from Canadian taxpayers. Money, which, when you get right down to it, came from the families and friends of his victims.

Am I disgusted? You bet.

If it wasn't for Clifford Olson, those kids would be in their 30s and 40s now. They'd have kids of their own . . . but no. He thought it was fine to murder those poor defenseless kids, and to profit from his crimes.

Personally, I wish Canada had the electric chair. Or maybe the guillotine. Something nasty, something painful and gruesome. Something that would provide a fitting punishment for people like Clifford Olson. Not the pampering that we apparently give those residing in our prisons.

Of course, this is just my opinion. Obviously, the goverment doesn't agree with me. Although, since we put 'em there, perhaps they should listen to people like me, not people like Clifford Olson.

Hear, hear!!

And hear some more!! At long last, our son is getting an FM system to use in his classroom - a year after the audiologist first recommended it. Last year, apparently, the powers that be didn't want to ante-up . . . but now, going into the final term of Grade 4 for our son, it has been determined that he will be "lost" in the classroom without some sort of assistance.

Duh. That's a no-brainer, if you ask me. But then, I'm his mother.

The school is responsible for the device - which is like a hearing aid, but is not a hearing aid. It fits in his ear in a similar manner, complete with a doodad behind his ear, but it goes in the hearing ear, not the deaf one. There's no hearing to aid in the deaf ear, so that would be pointless. The teacher will wear a little microphone. What it will do, is amplify the teacher's voice, so that he will be less distracted by the other classroom noises, and hopefully be better able to pay attention and get his work done.

He had a sound field system in Grade 1, and although it worked, it was a distraction for the rest of the class. Then we looked at getting him a BAHA (bone anchored hearing aid), which would pick up the sounds from the right side of his head, and send it, via his skull, to the left ear. That too, worked, after a fashion. But he found the robotic quality of the sound distracting, and it gave him a headache. Constantly.

For those of you who don't know, our son has profound unilateral hearing loss ~ his right ear is completely deaf, but his left is absolutely perfect! My mother had this too, and seemed to function well. Of course, she was born in 1946, so there wasn't a whole lot of support for deaf people back when she was a kid. Certainly not for someone with such a profound unilateral deafness.

He should get it sometime within the next month - he had the mold taken on Tuesday, so depending on how long it takes to make the device, he could have it in April or May. I'm guessing that Easter is throwing a monkey wrench in any plans to get him fitted for it in April.

I'll let you all know how it goes. Thanks for reading!!

Canada ROCKS!!!

Yes, we do. The most gold medals, the most medals of any host country ever . . . even if we choke in the gold medal hockey game tomorrow (which I sincerely hope we DON'T), we are the Olympic champions.

And can you believe, all that was on the news two weeks ago, was the fact that we'd never won any gold at home. Crow, anyone?? Goes good with a little ice, a little rain and smattering of fog on top!

Today, and every day, I am so bloody proud to be a Canadian.

We ROCK!! Let's kick butt on Sunday, folks!!

Take THAT, writer's block!!

Yes, at long last, after much procrastination and a plethora of bad ideas . . . I have succeeded in busting writer's block. I've kicked that puppy to the curb - hopefully, to be seen no more, during the course of writing this novel.

In a word: Yahoo!!

So far, I've rewritten Chapter 2, and I'm either still working on it, or about to start Chapter 3. My people haven't told me exactly what I'm doing yet.

And this time, instead of trying to follow a detailed chapter outline - which worked marvellously for Cold Cuts - I'm just flying by the seat of my pants. Who is the killer? Who knows. I thought I knew, but I might be wrong. And that could be very cool. Very cool indeed.

Dead of Winter, is now, undead. Haha, pardon the pun.

Happy New Year!!

Welcome 2010 . . . and what an easier year that is to type! But how to say it. My kids are insisting I say "Two thousand ten", but the rest of the world seems to be saying "Twenty-ten". Hmmm. Not sure about that. I don't know if I like the sound of twenty-something, although it makes sense, since all the other centuries before this one were spoken in a similar manner.

Well, whatever you call it, this is the first year of a new decade. A decade I'm looking forward to, optimistically. Okay, sure, by the time this decade draws to a close, our children will be 20, 18 and 14 (yikes!), but I'm fairly certain we will weather the teenage years with the same skill and patience as we weathered the Terrible Two's and Three's. Although, in the case of our daughters, it was more dramatic than terrible! Oh boy, what levels of drama are we destined to suffer through when they hit 13?? Yikes.

In the meantime, I'm slogging on with my non-resolution, and hitting the bike at least 3 times a week. So far so good. This week I stuck with it, and worked out 3 times . . . although I missed Friday's workout (did it today instead) . . . a little too much New Year, perhaps? Anyhow, I didn't quit, or post-pone it indefinitely.

Today's stats: 20 mins on the bike (Level 2, as always), but I did the plateau function this time. Distance covered, 6.88 km (let's just round it up to 7 km, shall we? lol), followed by 66 sit-ups. I finished the final set of reps and didn't quite feel dead, so I squeezed out another 6. Yay me!! I'll have rock-hard abs in no time!

Haha- that's not the goal. The goal is to trim the flab. After 3 kids and a lot of stretching in the mid-section, I'm not looking for washboard abs (or the concave belly I once had). Although, it would be nice!

So, after a week, I'm half-way to my goal of 14 km . . . the 7km wasn't done "easily", but obviously, it didn't kill me. What doesn't kill you, makes you stronger, so I'll be back at it again on Monday. Also on Monday, I'll do a weigh-in and post the changes, if any.

Thanks for reading!!