Woes of Getting Old or Woes of Being Out of Shape

On the rocks!

I decided to join my church's softball team this summer.  I've never played softball in an organized league before but things were moving along quite nicely.  True I was 0 for 3 at the bat in my first game when I was a little nervous and tight.  But I quickly found my swing and was beginning to contribute at the plate.  After four games played I was batting .400 with a home run and four RBIs.  Fielding is still "like this like that," as Evie would say.  But I was feeling good about my progress.

It was in the fourth game that things took a turn for the worse.  I was lead-off hitter.  I got my game face on, picked my bat and made my way to the plate.  After our pitcher tossed a couple of warm-ups I stepped in the batters box and raised the bat to my shoulder.  Our pitcher lobbed the ball towards the plate and swung a mighty swing connecting just off of the sweet spot on the bat.  It was a good hit and I easily made it third.  Great start.  Our team captain was up next and he sent a solid shot up the middle that was bobbled and dropped.  I took off for home and about half way I felt a twinge in my leg.  Ignore it...RUN!!  Another twinge...and then RRRRRIP!!  No, it was not my shorts shredding, it was my groin muscle.  I hobbled in home (and scored)!  After a brief moment of being keeled over against the backstop I limped off.

I didn't know it was torn, I thought I pulled a muscle or tweaked something.  I thought I could stretch it out and walk it off.  I tried to take my second at bat but the twisting aggravated the injury more.  I wasn't able to get enough behind the ball and popped it up and to be honest I was glad because it meant I could stop hopping to first.  And that was my game...and as it turns out my season.

Twenty-four hours after the game my leg began to swell and a bruise started to surface.  Forty-eight hours after the game the width of the bruise was the length of my hand and stretched from the groin proper to the knee.  Aurora Borealis pales in comparison to the brilliant colours of my bruise.

A trip to the physiotherapist confirmed that I had torn my muscle significantly.  Thankfully there's no serious damage, nothing is severed, everything is attached as it should be and all I need is some time and patience to ensure it heals completely.  She told me 6 - 8 weeks until it's all healed up.

You know, for about a month before this unfortunate incident I felt that my legs were unusually tight.  I kept thinking to myself that I really oughta do something to get back into some semblance of shape - stretching at minimum - but never got it around to it.

It reminds me of that old saying about taking time to sharpen the axe (I think it's actually a saw in the saying, but I prefer using an axe).  We can get so busy doing doing doing that we don't want to stop to take time to sharpen the axe.  All the while the axe loses its edge making the work harder and thus taking longer to do.  It would have been smarter to take a few minutes here and there to sharpen the axe  to ensure it was as efficient and effective as possible.

I'm a pretty active father.  I play a lot with the kids - but now I'm hobbled for at least a month over the summer when I'm
usually the most active all because I didn't make the time to stay in better shape.  That stinks!!  Consider it a lesson learned - I will aim to take time more frequently to get and stay in shape.  I'm sure it will pay dividends for me and my family.

The beginning of the bruise - more photos to come as soon as I get my camera back from my sister-in-law.

A Very Merry Fathers' Day

I woke up this morning at 8:00 am  (a whole two and half hours later than when I typically get to sleep in to - even on weekends thanks to my kids) enveloped in a fragrance of freshly baked cinnamon buns and even fresher brewed coffee. My wife brought me up one of each (actually two buns) to enjoy in bed...ahh, a wee slice of heaven. After church our extended family came over for lunch and then the ladies decided to have a ukulele jam session in the living room. 

Tolkien coined the term eucatastrophe - well I'm claiming this week as our family's ukutasrophe.  The sudden turning point in a story or life where ukulele fever takes over ensuring all involved do not meet an end void of music or joy.

Ahh...a ukulele extravaganza brought to us by the very women that have given us reason to celebrate this day as fathers ourselves.  What could be better than that?

  

Bonnie jammin' (the veteran ukulele'er).

Mimi training to be a third generation player.

Crazy for the Ukulele.   

Class in session.

A tender moment.

Captive audience - Chief is -particularly enthralled.

Lost in the beauty of the music.

Proud Papa and Grand Papa

These chicks are serious about their ukes...can you sense the intensity?

The next Uke star

Esther giving Miriam some advice on picking style

One more?  One more!

"Enough Ukulele!  Make it stop...please!"

REDBLACKS? Why Not?

Last week the name of the latest incarnation of an Ottawa football team was unveiled.  It was easily the worst kept secret in Ottawa, maybe even the nation but nevertheless it became official, the new team will be called the Ottawa REDBLACKS.

I'm a huge football fan.  One of the reasons I was excited about moving to Ottawa was the fact that they had a professional football team.  That was late 2005 and of course the Renegades ceased to be the next season, we just missed them.  So I've been waiting patiently for all the politics to get sorted out so the poor people of Ottawa can once again have a team to call our own.  And that team shall be called the REDBLACKS.

My initial reaction to the name was that it stunk.  It was weak, unimaginative and unoriginal.  But I have to admit the name is growing on me for several reasons (all caps not being one of them).  I appreciate that there is an attempt to associate red and black back to the red and black plaid flannel shirts that are stereotypically worn by lumberjacks.  That's cool imagery since Ottawa is an old lumber town and everyone knows lumberjacks are tough dudes.  I can envision a stadium full of fans sporting plaid red and black shirts.  The name translates nicely into French (it may even sound better) which should help in marketing to Quebecers live in the National capital region.  Using colours as a team name is not unprecedented.  Think about the Reds, Browns, and All Blacks.

Am I crazy about the name?  No, but it won't stop me cheering for them.  I've waited for this moment for 7 years now and it's almost upon us, one more football season and Ottawa football will be back.  Go REDBLACKS!!

To Sleep...To Dream

It took my wife all of a day and a half to track down a new bed to replace our busted down pseudo-trampoline.  Despite my attempts to convince her that my patch job would do the trick, she opted for a new (to us) bed.  Of course she consulted with me before purchasing the bed...kind of.  She agreed to buy it, set up a delivery and told me about it the evening before they were to deliver it.  I had a choice...I could have called the seller and said we had changed our mind.  But I didn't.

So the bed arrives and I spend some time, maybe half an hour taking the old bed apart and carrying it downstairs.  Then I take the next forty-five minutes or so putting the new bed together (which included dropping a vital part into the hollow frame of the bed with the only way to get it out being fishing it out with some tweezers through a hole just large enough to allow the thing to drop into it in the first place). Upon almost having the bed together my wife comes upstairs and stands in the doorway.  I can tell her demeanor that something isn't quite right.  "You don't like it?" I asked the question already knowing and fearing the answer.  "I think I made a mistake..."


Before putting the bed together I jokingly stated that the new bed frame had the exact part that was broken on the old bed and thus I could simply replace the broken part and keep our bed.  Well, this option was beginning to look mighty appealing to my wife as I neared the finished product and she asked if I thought I could do that.  "You mean you want me to take this bed apart [the new bed] take it downstairs, then bring the old bed back up and put it back together, now?  No."  I usually don't flat out refuse or dismiss my wife's suggestions - I don't consider it a policy congruent with a happy peaceful household.  In this case though I had to decline her suggestion.  I stated that we should leave the new bed set up for a couple of days, test it out and then revisit our decision then.  She turned away and sadly descended the stairs to await the completion of her bed.

I knew I had to make this work, simply because I was tired and didn't want to have to switch the beds that I had just switched.  So I spent the next hour or so (maybe a little less) rearranging and cleaning the bedroom - with the help of Evie who offered her bunk in her room to Mommy if Mommy didn't like her new bed.  Evie really liked it.  So then I called to my wife and held my breath.

She entered the room and let her gaze slowly drift around the room.  Then she smiled.  She SMILED and I let out a sigh of relief.  She likes it, she really likes it, (still) like Mikey likes Life cereal.  And thus concludes the tale of how we got a new bed.

Mimi approved!

Jump Jump CRASH...

Well it finally happened.  After six years of serving as a trampoline (since Evie has been able to stand and bounce a little), our bed broke.  Yes, we let our kids jump on our bed.  Unfortunately it is a habit that is hard to break.  Despite repeated pleas for Evie to please stop jumping on the bed, she cannot control her compulsion to jump on the bed.  Our poor little Ikea bed just couldn't take it any longer and the steel support bar in the centre of the bed, that runs the length of the bed, is now bent and torn.  That's right, the steel has twisted and has left what can only be described as a tear, much like when I was a kid and used to tear pop cans apart with my bare hands (I almost wrote bear hands and despite being wrong I kinda like the imagery - BEAR HANDS!!).

Back to the bed...the support bar which holds up the bed boards is now held up by a couple of patio stones and a chunk of 4x4 wood.  Ah yes...luxury...nothing but the best for us.  Upon hearing of the bed, my wife immediately started shopping for a new one, without even waiting to hear the severity of the break.  She seemed quite adamant that a new bed was in order - perhaps overly adamant.  As if her and Evie were in cahoots to remedy a situation that she finds unfavorable.  She even seemed to have a design already picked out, at least she got to the product page rather quickly (she favours the ultra feminine wiry steel bed frame that looks as though it will collapse under my weight).

Much to her disappointment my handiwork will probably stand the test of time...I mean a short time of course, like a couple of months (knock on wood - maybe the hunk of wood under the bed).  It would be superb if we could wait until after our kitchen renovations are completed before buying a new bed.  Better yet would be if we could wait until the girls now longer feel the urge to use our bed as the means by which to launch themselves into orbit.

The Best Nest

 

 

The Century Club!!

This is it...my 100th post!!  I know, it's about time.  You were probably wondering if I was ever going to write again.  I am a serious blogger if not a frequent one.  Whether through writing, acting or bedtime stories I love telling stories.  I always have.  Sometimes we get caught up thinking we are what we do for a living and that's not always the case.  I have a great job.  My degree says I am a librarian and/or information scientist and my job title says that I'm a consultant - in that role I've worked as an information analyst, information and records management specialist and a business transformation architect - but I have always known that I am a storyteller.

The other night I had a dream, I was in a public library reading Stanislavski's An Actor Prepares when in walked some of my classmates from Queen's - where I studied film and drama.  We struck up a conversation and were generally catching up when they asked what book I was reading.  They were surprised with my selection of reading material and asked if I was still trying to act.  I replied, "I'm an actor - an actor has to act."

That's how I feel about my storytelling.  I am compelled to share by any means I have available.  I'd love to act, thought that takes quite a bit of time and commitment and as you can tell my the infrequency of my writing, I don't have either of those in abundance - at this time in my life.

This blog has served a number of purposes for me.  It provides me a chance to hone my writing skills and find my style of writing.  More importantly it enables to put my writing out there for anyone to read - which is a big step for me.   I have written quite a bit in the past few years including two feature screenplays, a script for a short film, a one act play, a couple of kids' picture books and a book (all first drafts except the book which is on its fourth iteration).  The problem is I've kept them to myself and I haven't actively sought out opportunities to share for a myriad of reasons that I haven't fully explored.  Part of it is fear and nerves - like the moments right before taking the stage for performance.  With a performance if you don't take that first step onstage the anxiously waiting audience tends to notice whereas with something written, no one is the wiser if you don't take a breath and go for it.  The truth is that I'm a shy, self-conscious writer - much like I used to be in person before acting empowered me and allowed me to find my voice and presence.  This blog has enabled me to take a few small steps towards centre stage.

I still censor myself quite a bit, often due to notion that I haven't given something enough thought or reflection to put out there for everyone to read.  There's a lot that I'd like to write about such as the sorry state of this world and my thoughts on the horror stories that are the recent current events.   However these are topics that I want to give appropriate time and effort to and to be honest at the end of the day I often don't have the steam or mental stamina to fully articulate my thoughts on these heady topics.  And rather than giving it a half effort I just don't write - which is why I haven't written much in the past couple of weeks.

Anyway - here's to my first one hundred blogs and to hundreds more to come!!