Out Of The Pond And Into The Ocean, Toronto Odyssey Day 2

My evening was spent walking the streets of downtown Toronto, as I tried to find something I could use as fast-acting carbs, should I experience a low. Almost every street was lines with restaurants of every ethnicity, with the occasional smattering of a Subway or Denny’s buried in the middle. I eventually found a Circle K, which is the equivalent of a convenience store, where I overpaid for a bag of sour patch kids, a couple of energy drinks and som Slim Jim’s.

As I walked, i started to feel overwhelmed at the size, congestion and scope of the buildings around me and the population of people. Considering making my way through crowds in Regina tends to trigger PTSD symptoms, this was significantly difficult. Regina has a population of roughly 250,000 people. Toronto sits at just under 6.4 million. But I did manage to locate my venue for today’s activities and the short walk it would require. I ended my evening by grabbing a quick beer at my hotels lounge, which cost me about as much as three beers would have, in Saskatchewan. Welcome to the big city!

The meetings of the day went as well as one could expect, with my attempt at maintaining my level of consciousness by consuming copious amounts of caffeine. What do you expect from someone with diagnosed ADHD and a propensity for getting bored? The day ends out with me heading to my room and switching out my CGM sensor before it could expire. Then, I ventured out to my nearest shoppers drug mart, which was over a kilometre away.

I sweat up a storm, so I grabbed a shower before installing the new CGM sensor. Lo and behold, the battery in my pump was dying. I could have grabbed some while I was out. Instead, I had to ventured out again to grab some AA batteries. Once I had them, I was able to replenish my pump before heading back to the RCMI for supper with my brother and sister regulators.

It was an excellent meal of stories, shared stories and networking. It was nice to speak to some like minded people and and have a meal among peers. It was my first realization that this trip was worth my time. I walked back to my hotel room feeling satisfied. There are lessons to learn but I’m too exhausted to acknowledge them. Tomorrow is another day and I need to be fresh. ☯️

Depend Only On Yourself, Toronto Odyssey Day 1

Most who know me on a personal level know that I tend to let my patience run pretty thin and one of my biggest pet peeves is waiting on others. It continues to amaze me how, even when I plan ahead, others individuals and services tend to run late and remain unreliable. that’s why over the years I’ve come to develop a “plan B” for anything I’m planning or assuming. It’s saved my butt more times than I can count, from a time-saving and obligation standpoint.

Today sees me travelling to Toronto, Ontario for work purposes. Without getting into the weeds regarding the reasons, my posts over the next few days will be about the journey, not so much the destination. When I booked my flights a couple of weeks ago, I had the foresight to book a pre-arranged taxi can to pick me up and bring me to the airport. I planned for an early enough pick up that would allow the transit to the airport and get me there a couple of hours prior to my flight, to deal with any unforeseen circumstances. This is me. Of course, there were unforeseen circumstances…

With my departure to Toronto scheduled to take flight at 8 am, I booked my cab to pick me up at my home at 5:30. This would allow for the 15-minute transit across the city to the airport, incorporating any issues we may encounter (construction, collisions, etc). Unfortunately, in my haste to book the cab, I missed a very important notice on their website that states pickup and drop off at the airport was currently unavailable. Fuck. Me. I only discovered this hiccup when I brought their website at 5:30 this morning to figure out why they hadn’t shown up, yet.

Realistically, some of this is on me. If I wasn’t in such a rush to schedule everything, I no doubt would have seen the notice and moved on to a different company. No harm, no foul. THIS is why I always plan for a bit of a time cushion. I called a different cab company and had a car dispatched to me location, explaining I was headed to the airport and in a hurry. I was assured a car was coming immediately. Only after I schedule second cab did I receive a phone call from, you guessed it, the original cab company o booked. To clarify, they hadn’t arrived. They were calling to see if I still NEEDED a cab. After passive-aggressively explaining I had scheduled to be picked at that very minute, I declined their services.

They gave me a surprising amount of attitude over the phone despite the fact it was their doing. But I should have guessed something was up when I didn’t get a follow-up text or email when I booked them. Luckily, the cab that did show up was quick, efficient and knew his routes so I got to the airport just minutes after 6 am, which was what I had originally planned for. Whenever I fly, a minimum of two hours is always taken prior to boarding. My reason for this is quite simple; checking through security is always a longer process for me, requiring a physical examination by virtue of my insulin pump.

The only way to start a morning

Luckily, the screening staff were on the ball and I found myself with plenty of extra time. So I treated myself to a Men’s Health magazine and can of energy drink, which cost me nearly three times the amount that I would have paid at my corner store. No wonder airports don’t want you bringing outside food and drinks! But a guy’s gotta have his caffeine, am I right? It’s always interesting to see the array of folks that wander through an airport. The differences in mood, haste and temperament make for some interesting “people watching.”

The flight was uneventful but I have to admit that I could have cycled my way to the hotel faster than the cab the brought me. I checked out where the venues will be tomorrow and did a bit of the tourist thing. I’m now chilling in my room, enjoying some air conditioning after a much-needed meal. Perhaps tonight will see me hit up the lounge or take a walk around city hall. Who knows? I’m here for three nights, so I should try to NOT be my usual self and actually enjoy the experience. ☯️

Mind Your Food: A Review…

As I’ve occasionally mentioned in the past, I usually stay away from providing my opinion on SPECIFIC products or services, by virtue of my job and given the fact that my blog was never intended to be used in such a way. But once in a while, I cross something, a book, movie or other product, that I either feel deserves to be mentioned or that lends itself to a more educational piece as it relates to some of my blog’s topics, so here we are!

I’ve been no stranger to changes and transitions in recent months. What with our home being under heavy renovations (a post about that to come later) and all four of us camped out in our basement for the duration, to the heat of summer starting to strike the Prairies and having no room to workout consistently, to noticing a reduced appetite and basically having to force myself to eat in order to stay alive… That last one has been a particular thorn in my side, as finding the means and the motivation to ingest three balanced meals on a daily basis can be a challenge for someone in general, let alone a Type-1 Diabetic.

As a result, I’ve been trying a number of different things to try and nip this problem in the bud. Although I’ve been happy with some of the weight loss I’ve been seeing, losing weight as a result of not eating is never a good thing and one needs to acknowledge that some of it comes as a result of loss of muscle mass, given that my bench and weights are currently buried under a pile of my shit in the basement. For the most part, I’ve taken to gulping down a low-sugar bottle of Ensure every morning, which some of you may recognize as a meal-replacement supplement.

Ensure has always fascinated me, because I’ve noticed that if I’m actually hungry for breakfast and I drink one, I’m actually not hungry afterwards. I guess if it gives you what the body needs, the body no longer sends out hunger signals. Who knows? What am I, a doctor? The point is, it’s a handy go-to for a person who’s on the go and doesn’t necessarily have time to prepare something comprehensive, first thing in the morning. However, one cannot simply live on meal replacement shakes, alone…

Flash forward to a few days ago when, while doing some grocery shopping, I happened to fall upon some frozen “breakfast bowls” that caught my eye. Since I don’t like getting sued and don’t want to be accused of defamation of a product, I’ll keep the name of the specific brand off of here, but it’s basically a frozen tv dinner, but in breakfast form. They take less than five minutes to heat in the microwave, boast only 260 calories (approximately) each and only 17 grams of total carbohydrates. Sounds great, sign me up! I grabbed one of each: a bacon, egg and potato and a steak egg and potato. This morning, I tried the bacon, egg and potato.

There she lies… One of the first things I noticed when I finished heating it up, is the cheese included with the bowl isn’t quite as prominent as it is on the packaging. This probably shouldn’t surprise me to overly much, considering,m but disappointing nonetheless. The other immediately noticeable issue, and you can likely tell from the photo, is the potatoes still look white and raw. And guess what? They fucking were! Granted, every microwave is different but I added several minutes to makes sure the potatoes would cook and soften. Didn’t happen.

Generally speaking, since frozen meals tend to be on the more unimpressive side, they tend to try and jazz it up by seasoning a few things or adding some flavour. They really didn’t seem to do that here. The potatoes were plain and bland, the eggs were, well…eggs, and the bacon was the only thing that seemed to taste good, given that you can eat bacon as is, and it’ll still be fuckin’ bacon. I’ll die on that hill. But it was an otherwise unimpressive meal that left me wanting and disappointed that I didn’t have my Ensure, instead. How sad is that?

Now, it might seem like I’m being a tad negative with things, here. And that’s likely because I am. As with all things in life, there is a balance of good and bad in everything. So, here’s the good. The low calories are a good thing, given my reduce physical activity and the fact I sit on my rump all day at work. The 18 grams of protein it boasts is a nice addition. But as with most frozen meals, its small portion still carries 25% of my daily intake of sodium, which can be detrimental if I decided to make a habit of eating one of these on a daily basis.

One silver lining is that the amount of cabs I needed to bolus for appear to be somewhat accurate for this item and my blood sugars aren’t going haywire. It can be a nice change, when you don’t have time to prepare a hot breakfast but still want something. The only suggestion I would make is to season your meal yourself, before you eat it. A little flavour helps one to get through their day. And mind that sodium; easier isn’t always healthier and as any Type-1 Diabetic knows, sodium levels can wreak havoc. Food for thought…☯️

The Return Of The Mack…

Wow, okay… So I made it all of a little over two weeks without logging back in and checking on my blog. A shameful display of weakness, for someone who recently posted that they were stepping away from blogging and even closed down their facebook page. But in recent weeks, I’ve continued to get frequent notifications, not only of posts being read and liked but a strange things has been happening; my followership has been increasing.

Like many bloggers that I, myself, have followed, I recently made the decision to step away from writing. Back in January of this year, I took a step back as I had achieved my goal of writing 1,000 posts in a row, without missing a day. It was a reasonable achievement for myself but it left me wondering what was next, from a writing perspective. I decided I would continue to share what I knew, but on an ad hoc basis, as opposed to daily.

But one day, I sat in front of the keyboard and not only could I not come up with something pertinent to write about, the frequent and constant interruptions that prevented me from posting caused a knee-jerk reaction on my part that led to my stepping away. Given my usual compulsions, I had to jump on to check stats and I had been receiving all of these notifications. So, here I am and here we sit, once again pounding the keys in an effort to touch the world.

I guess my blog will stick around for at least a while. What the hell, right? I closed down the facebook page and I think it’ll stay closed, since the majority of my Facebook friends never bothered to follow it (even though I requested) and it wasn’t getting the traction I would have anticipated. In the interim, it will be good to see what ideas I can come up with, though the summer. Maybe I won’t have to regurgitate all my old posts. Time will tell… ☯️

All Good Things…

Ah, the 1990’s… They gave us so much. Setting aside the fact that I graduated from high school in the 90’s (yes, I’m that old), the early 90’s also gave us the finale to a much-loved and anticipated follow-up to the original Star trek series. I’m writing, of course, of Star Trek: The Next Generation. TNG hit the airwaves in an unexpected manner, giving us the follow-up series that Trekkies never knew they needed. When the two-part finale aired, it was entitled “All good things…,” a play on the old saying that all good things must come to an end. I felt it a fitting and suitable title for today’s post as, you see, today will be MY last episode, or post, I suppose…

I started this blog all the way back in late 2019. It originally started as a means for me to keep my writing skills sharp. Writing, much like anything else, is a kept skill; one that becomes lessened or lost if one does not use it regularly. “If you don’t use it, you lose it,” may be an apt analogy. When I originally posted, my intention was for this to be a photography blog, if you can believe it. I absolutely love flower and nature photography and my first post was a gallery of various flowers I had photographed during one of my trips in New Brunswick. I’m totally not kidding! You can check it out right here. Those flowers bring back some memories…

Somehow, within a short period of time, I immersed myself in writing this blog and did the same thing I do with everything else; I gave myself goals. My first goal was to expand my own horizons and research capabilities. Through that lens, I began writing about the two things I felt I knew a reasonable bit about: martial arts and Type-1 Diabetes. Before I knew it, I threw my own faith in the ring and began writing about Buddhism, as well. The Diabetes and martial arts aspect developed into fitness & health, writing motivational or opinion pieces as well as the occasional “just because” posts that made me feel good. Somehow, since publishing that first post on February 27, 2019, I’ve managed to write 1,480 posts (not including this one) and have amassed 573 subscribers. Although not quite on part with the modern day “influencer,” and I use the term lightly, it’s not too shabby for someone who started to write on a whim and simply grew from there.

My goals were reasonably simple. On the larger scale, I wanted to share what I knew. I also wanted to keep my writing skills as sharp as a could. On a smaller scale, I wanted to write a post each day for a week. Then a month. Then a year. Then I challenged myself to go for broke and write for 1,000 straight days in a row, a goal that i achieved on December 10, 2022. I found myself asking what’s next and this was perhaps the beginning of a downward slope that would bring me to the here and now. I believe I’ve reached a point where I’ve gotten from this blog what I started out to do. I have maintained my writing skills, which are now in heavy, HEAVY use in the job I started two years ago. I’ve reached the goals and milestones I set for myself and any further or lengthier milestones would just border on the absurd at this point.

I believe I’ve shared reasonable, well-researched information to allow readers to consider possibilities and do research of their own, never professing to be a medical professional or to know better than anyone else. I’ve written on almost every fitness, health, martial arts and Diabetes-related topic I could think of, some being so obscure that it seemed almost a stretch (you can scroll through my posts to find the ones on bowel movement colours, if you need an example). Although I would have never thought it possible, I believe I tapped out my creativity. After all, I did manage to pour out 1,000 posts in a row. How much more could I possibly do?

As with all things in life, there is a balance. For all the good and the enjoyment I’ve received from writing my blog, there has been some negative. I recall getting into a heated debate in my comments section from a very unpleasant young lady who took offence to a post I wrote about meat. THAT was fun. I’ve also had a number of individuals who have unfortunately thought it was their place to question, belittle and demean some of my posts, either in the comments section or to me directly. In a sense, even those were beneficial as they often led to posts about scrolling on by or not commenting on things you don’t agree with. But all in all, it has certainly been a positive experience, one I think that I shall always remember fondly and without regret.

Writing this blog hasn’t garnered the kind of traction I had eventually come to hope for. But I know that I have reached some. And for me, that’s more than enough. My posts will be here, at least until I ultimately decide to shut the account down completely. So I take some comfort in knowing that to some extent, people can still find my posts, read my writing and come to allow their thinking to be stimulated. And for one such as I, that’s all that can be asked. I may eventually come back to my blog. Or perhaps writing here has opened the door for me to pursue something bigger. You know me, always another goal. And that’s what’s important in life; to never let yourself grow stagnant and always keep pushing forward. Stay healthy, stay hydrated and check your blood sugars frequently. Doing so will ensure that I will be here sometime in the future to continue this writing. And it will ensure you’re here to read it. Food for thought… 🙏☯️

Genkyu Nashi…

You know what really grinds my gears??? Just kidding, this won’t be that kind of post. At least not yet; I have a tendency of getting myself worked up on occasion but at the moment, I’m mostly looking to bring up a strange tendency I’ve noticed online. Since I write a blog that often focuses on karate and have subscribed through social media to a number of martial arts pages and websites, the good ol’ online AI’s have made it so that all the “suggested pages” and such usually have something to do with karate. This isn’t a bad thing, especially since it often allows me to learn about other styles, other techniques and methods and interesting subject matter. There is, however, one thing I’ve noticed that seems to nag at me; there is rarely any mention of Uechi Ryu…

I started to notice this trend some time ago when I read an article about top ten karate styles. The usual contenders were mentioned, Shotokan, Shito-Ryu and Wado-Ryu… And no list would be complete without the inclusion of Kyokushinkai, which everyone seems to think is bee’s knees of karate. Oh, I have no doubt that Kyokushinkai has its effectiveness, but I don’t believe that it is truly the “ultimate” way, considering that the proper fit of any given martial arts style is subjective to the practitioner. But when you hear about karate, the majority of the time, it will be one of the styles listed above. Which once again raises the question as to why Uechi-Ryu is rarely if ever, brought up.

For those who are less familiar with Uechi-Ryu, the style was created after its founder, Kanbun Uechi, studied under a Chinese martial artist named Shu Shiwa. Uechi studied with him for over a decade and even opened a school of his own in China. Uechi called the style “pangai-noon,” or “half-hard, half-soft.” Uechi returned to Okinawa and refused to teach ever agin, after one of his Chinese students allegedly killed one of his neighbours. It wouldn’t be until the 1920’s that Uechi would begin teaching students in Okinawa and the style was renamed in 1940 to Uechi-Ryu Karate-jutsu by his students and son. When Uechi passed in 1948, his son, Kanei Uechi, took over leadership of the style and renamed it simply “Uechi-Ryu.”

My style is unique in its focus on hardening the muscle and a combination of contained, focused circular and linear movements. We don’t focus on crossing long distances as many other style do, nor do we dip and lean quite as much as other styles do. Many other styles and martial artists have claimed that Uechi-Ryu is more effective at self-defence than its more offensive counterparts. But yet, when you look up top ten most renowned karate styles or something of the like, there’s almost never any mention of Uechi-Ryu. And I find that odd…

At one point, I posed the question to Sensei and his response was that our style was subtle and traditional and because we cared nothing about competition or how many students we created, people knew less of us than they knew of other styles. Maybe that’s the case. Who knows? there’s a really good video on Jesse Enkamp’s YouTube channel that talks about the ins and outs of Uechi-Ryu karate. I’ll link the video below. ☯️

It’s Treason, Then…

Before I even get into the actual content of my post, I have to say that Star Wars’ prequel trilogy is largely underrated. And the Emperor’s line in Episode III, when Mace Windu and senior members of the Jedi Council finally approach him and recognize him as the Dark Lord of the Sith is iconic. If I was facing a number of skilled, experienced Jedi, I might not be so bold and calm as Emperor Palpatine was. But the line was fantastic, no less. I’ve often made a case for the fact that Jedi are basically just martial artists with modern, energy-based weapons. Even their robes are reminiscent of a karate gi… But I digress… Let’s get on with the subject of today’s post…

There’s a strange phenomenon that occurs for martial artists; it happens when one begins to gain skill and experience and begins to believe that they’re actually “good.” Now that I’ve achieved the age, wisdom and experience level that I have, I understand that being “good” is simply a state of mind and that one is genuinely never done learning the martial arts, regardless of one’s rank. This is something I came to learn the hard way, with some unfortunate happenstance, which I was recently reminded of. That brings us to the here and now, where I’ve come to see that the phenomenon is still quite prevalent and exists in some way, shape or form.

When I was in my early 20’s, I reached a point that I consider to be the pinnacle of my physical skills. I had speed, skill, accuracy and knowledge. Because of these factors, I became arrogant and boastful; something that isn’t becoming of a traditional martial artist. I reached a point where, even when I taught others, it was done through the lens of someone who knew better than they. It reached a point where I became frustrated and even angered by Sensei’s continued scrutiny of my knowledge and skills. It reached an unfortunate point where I thought I knew better. It reached a point where I even skipped on classes where I felt I was being slightled.

Sensei felt this change in me, probably before I even felt it in myself. It didn’t help that his son, one of my best friends, was in the same position as I was. We had conversations about how tired we were with the repetitive training, the constant drills that we’d already mastered, etc… It got to a point where for the first time, I did something I had never done before at that stage in my life; I started to skip out on training in favour of trivial things. I shot pool with friends. I went swimming in the forest. I hung out with my girlfriend. it last almost three months before I snapped out of it and realized I needed to go back.

When I finally returned to the dojo, Sensei acted as though i had never left. It wasn’t until I managed to get him alone after a class one night, when I asked him about what had happened. he explained that he knew what I was going through and had, in fact, gone through it himself. He knew that there would have been no convincing me that I needed to go back until I realized it myself. A part of my inner ego had to be permitted to inflate and pop on its own before I would recognize that this was exactly what I was dealing with; my ego. only once I realized that I didn’t know everything, didn’t know BETTER, could I start to recognize that martial arts is not a journey one can walk alone.

And that’s the lesson… Sometimes, one has to allow oneself to become built up before one realizes the only solution is to break it all down to allow yourself to grow. As the old saying goes, it is hard to fill a cup that is already full. Ego takes up a lot of space. If one is unable to set aside one’s ego, one will never truly be able to successfully learn and progress within the martial arts. Food for thought… ☯️

Til Death Do You What…?

Benjamin Franklin once wrote that “[…] in this world, nothing can be said to be certain, except death and taxes.” Considering the taxes I’ve paid since making my transition into the adult world, quite a number of years ago, I can attest that taxes are not something one can avoid. At least not legally, but that’s another post for another day. The focus of today’s post is death. Most people are leery of death and the concepts behind it. One of the things that allows us as people to make our way through life and work towards goals and find some semblance of happiness is the fact that we seem to be programmed to live without constantly being aware that there’s a finish line and there’s nothing to do to avoid it.

If one were to wake up every morning acknowledging that they’re going to die, can you imagine the kind of chaos that would ensure in the world? People would stop trying. Goals and achievements would come to a screeching halt, crime rates would increase dramatically and the ones who don’t necessarily covet their existence quite as dearly as others would take foolish chances and perhaps bring upon their end sooner than would have otherwise taken place. Problematically, there are some who DO live this way. The results are never good, per se, and there is always the question of what happens after we die. The big problem is that we are programmed to survive, often whether we want to or not. And as I once read in a book by one of my favourite authors, survival is a motherfucker!

We are also biologically programmed to ignore death, preserve ourselves and push forward, which is why for most people, their first thought in the morning isn’t “wow, I’m going to die someday.” The concept of death frightens most people, whether because of their inherent, biological will to survive or because of the unknown. For many, knowing what happens to our existence after death could potentially bring peace. Especially if it could ever be proven that there is some level of existence beyond this mortal flesh. on the flip side, much of what I described in the previous paragraph would come to pass on a high and more extreme level, if humanity ever managed to confirm life after death.

It’s a topic rife with contradictions, since most people avoid the topic and become uncomfortable talking about it. But it’s ever-present nonetheless and I recently had the opportunity to deal with a matter that brought some of these thoughts and concept to the forefront of my mind. When I was young, despite having Type-1 Diabetes, the concept of death was always a bit of a mystery to me. It wasn’t until my own doctors suggested that I would die in a short number of years due to my condition that I awoke to the question of what happens beyond the grave. Given that I was raised by a devout French-Catholic mother, there were plenty of religious concepts thrown into the mix, which were nothing more than extremely confusing for a young child.

It wasn’t until a couple of years later, when my brother passed away from all his illnesses, that it really brought it home for me. It was my first time genuinely dealing with the concept of death and seeing it in its horrible reality. In some ways, many ways, I was fortunate as my brother spent the majority of his life suffering and death brought an end to that. It was one of the driving factors that motivated me to take my life and health into my own hands and ensure I would continue on and live a full life. Three and a half decades later, I’m still alive and very-much kicking, karate pun FULLY intended.

My recent experiences have once again raised the question of what takes place after death and ultimately, does any of it matter? As a people, different cultures have different beliefs and customs behind what happens to our remains after we die. Generally-speaking and only from my own experience, folks here in the western world generally bury or cremate their dead, include religious ceremonies of whatever faith they follow and believe. The ceremonies are given almost as much status and importance as the death itself but the painful reality is that such ceremonies are usually only of import to those who remain; the dead don’t care about such things.

I once read an article written about the concept of life after death where the writer stated that at this point, given the number of people who have claimed to have experienced something beyond consciousness, near-death experiences and such, we should start to consider WHAT happens after death as opposed to IF something happens, since it appears evident that is some activity that takes place. Modern medicine and science have provided plenty of information about everything the brain does to try and keep the body going when it knows it’s dying, which causes the whole “bright light ahead” thing, as well as other aspects that people have attributed to dying. People have reported being “outside” of their bodies, watching as doctors work and were able to hear everything. Since science has somehow confirmed that our sense of hearing is one of the last to cancel out after death, perhaps that could be easily explained, as well.

It’s a fascinating topic, if one doesn’t mind the morbidity of it all. And I don’t pretend to know what happens after death but I will admit that like most, I’ve often been curious. I often turn back to what I once told my dearly-departed aunt, when I visited her for one of the last times as she was dying of cancer. I explained that no matter how one viewed life, there was the possibility of something beyond death. If your life was rooted in religion and your faith was grounded, your beliefs would explain everything you needed. You could find comfort in those concepts. If you have no religion or happen to be an atheist, one still needs to acknowledge the scientific aspect, which is that our bodies are proven to be driven by a measurable form of energy. This energy is seen in the current that controls our heart, maintains our brain activity and I think, contributes to making us who we are as a person. And as we all would have been taught through basic high school science classes (at least the ones we didn’t sleep through), energy never ceases to exist nor can it be destroyed; only moved or transformed.

So not matter what manner of life you live, one could argue that there is an explanation of the afterlife, whether your life is rooted in the theological or the scientific. The question simply remains of what, exactly, will that look like. The bad news is that no one knows for sure. The good news is that since there’s no avoiding it, we will all, eventually, have our answer. The takeaway here is to continue to live one’s life to the fullest and recognize that although sad and includes a deep sense of loss when someone we love passes on, it is part of the natural cycle of life that all living things must observe. Birth, life and eventually death is a something we all will experience. But there’s nothing saying that death deserves our time or attention until our time comes, of which we are usually blissfully unaware. Morbid food for thought on a Sunday morning… ☯️

The Bunny Hop Weekend

This weekend was Easter weekend, which has carried different meanings for me throughout my life. Having grown up in a devout Catholic household, it signified the period of time where Jesus Christ was crucified and died on the cross for humanity’s sins, only to resurrect a few days later. It was an aspect of the Bible that I came to know quite well as a child, with religious movies representing Christ’s resurrection playing on the television all weekend and frequent sittings at our local church (sometimes more than one church). As I grew into adulthood and Catholicism’s hold on me released, I slowly forgot about Easter weekend. Hell, I didn’t even get to see it as a long weekend since, as a police officer, statutory holidays meant nothing for my work load.

In recent years, I’ve been lucky in the sense that I get that additional day off, making for a three-day weekend. That can be nice, especially from the standpoint of getting some additional rest. However, as I grew into parenthood, I came to realize that the weekend also came to symbolize bunnies, chocolates, candies and egg hunts. Having grown up with Type-1 Diabetes means that I didn’t experience most of those things as a child. One would think that this would mean I would enjoy going through it with my children but things of that nature are often less fun when you have to be the adult who cleans up after everything that’s done to entertain one’s children. Although I do very much enjoy the Easter jelly beans I received. They’re good times… But I digress…

Typically, my family would travel up to my in-laws, as they’re the only family we have nearby. With my family being all the way in New Brunswick, my wife’s parents are usually the host of our holiday travel plans. We’ve been pretty lucky in the fact that we’ve been the only ones who not only live afar and require accommodation when we travel but also have children. This means Grandma and Grandpa would not only receive the pleasure of our company but get to see their grandchildren for any given holiday weekend, as well. But as life moves forward, families expand and not only are two of my wife’s siblings married now, they also have children of their own. The conundrum this causes is that, much like at my mother’s home in New Brunswick, there is no longer any room to accommodate everyone.

Although getting together as a family is still important, not only over the holidays but as a general practice, fitting that number of people into one residence is not only impractical but can cause friction that one should not have to deal with over a holiday visit. With that in mind, my wife and I took things in a different direction this year and sent our oldest son, Nathan, up to stay with his grandparents for the long weekend. My sister-in-law was travelling through Regina on a trip of her own and offered to bring him up on her way back. He left last Friday and is scheduled to be picked up by my wife tomorrow while I’m at work.

With only one child to entertain and the fact he’s a toddler and doesn’t care where we go, we spent the weekend browsing designs for the bathroom renovation we should be starting soon. We took the opportunity to eat out a couple of times, one of those meals was at my favourite eatery: FatBurger. I consider myself to be a bit of a burger connoisseur and FatBurger has the best damned Mushroom Swiss burger I’ve ever had in my life. I had the opportunity to catch up on a significant amount of laundry and we even changed things around slightly in the living room. As an added bonus, I took today off as an extra day, although I know myself well enough to know I’ll likely check work later.

All in all, it’s been a pretty good and quiet long weekend. Tomorrow, I get to start back at a fresh new office as my location has changed. That should be an all-new adventure. It’ll be interesting to have my entire organization on one floor as opposed to spread out across three floors. As with all things in life, there will be some good and some bad. I’m looking forward to see in which direction this new office will tip the scales. Happy Easter to all those who celebrated this weekend. ☯️

Another One Survived…

I somehow managed to muddle through another year without having to deal with the ridiculousness of April Fools’ Day… Throughout the year, I’ve been the victim of a number of different pranks in both my personal and my professional life. Everything from having my jacket sleeve filled with shredded paper or having one of my coworkers spritz a touch of pepper spray into my coffee. In the event you’ve never been pepper sprayed, it works by reacting with the mucous membranes; eyes, nose and mouth, mostly. So if you take a sip of it when it’s in your hot coffee, you may not notice it right away. But once it hits the inner lips, son of a bitch…

For the most part, playing pranks on friends and family can be hilarious and somewhat harmless. It’s when you do something that causes mischief or interferes with the general public that it becomes problematic. For example, one year I had a batch of kids who would constantly move a park bench into the middle of main street and put a toilet bowl on top of it. It would be pitch black and the middle of the night, so there was no finding who did it. But it was dark enough that a vehicle coming down the street could potentially collide with it. We’d take the time to remove it and as we’d patrol, we’;d find it back in the street, minutes later. Cheeky bastards! Working on the evening of April Fools’ Day was the worst day to be a cop, followed closely by Halloween and New Year’s Eve.

So, where does it all come from? I mean, I’d be lying if I said I never played a few creative pranks on friends in the past. But why do people feel that they need one specific day on the calendar to get all their mischief out of their system? Depending on the source you dig into, the calendar may actually be to blame… I found a couple of different sources behind April Fools’ Day’s origins and all seem to stem from the same general story. So, I’ll share a snippet from History.com:

“Some historians speculate that April Fools’ Day dates back to 1582, when France switched from the Julian calendar to the Gregorian calendar, as called for by the Council of Trent in 1563. In the Julian Calendar, as in the Hindu calendar, the new year began with the spring equinox around April 1. People who were slow to get the news or failed to recognize that the start of the new year had moved to January 1 and continued to celebrate it during the last week of March through April 1 became the butt of jokes and hoaxes and were called “April fools.” These pranks included having paper fish placed on their backs and being referred to as “poisson d’avril” (April fish), said to symbolize a young, easily caught fish and a gullible person.”

Since I grew up in an environment with a heavy French population, I can confirm the French part of the explanation. I remember the paper fish thing from my early years in grade school. Sources go on to describe some different traditions in different countries, kind of like how Halloween has different backgrounds in different countries, as well. But depending on whether you’re the one playing the pranks or receiving them, enjoying it as a fun little escape from the everyday hum-drum of life is subjective to the recipient. I can’t recall if someone managed to get one past me last year but this year, I was lucky enough that April Fools’ Day took place on a Saturday so I didn’t have work to contend with, and none of my friends seemed inclined to try and pull anything on me. One more year survived… ☯️