DanOCan

A picture is worth a thousand words.  Every picture tells a story.  Words.  Clichés. 

We’ve all heard these phrases and – for the most part – they are true.  For me a picture is a portal, not just to another place and time but to the photographer.  Whether we know it or not, every picture includes a little bit of the photographer.  Look at my photos and you’ll learn a little something about me. 

Was I there to document a building knowing one day it might be gone?  When I took the picture was I simply trying to record something for future generations?  Or, was I there for a different purpose?  Perhaps I was feeling artistic, or even a little playful.  Am I mimicking the style of another photo I may have seen at one time?  Why did I choose to include a certain element?

And then there are nights like tonight where the photo contains a little bit of me – literally.

Red Deer Lake School

Yep, there I am on the right side.  That long shadow stretching across the snow-marked grass?  That’s me.  It was cold and I was in a hurry so I wasn’t paying very close attention to my composition and I wasn’t aware that the streetlights from the schoolyard across the road were casting my shadow into the frame.

I went out to capture star trails over the old school but it was too cloudy.  Instead I captured myself.  I think that’s sort of cool.  Timing may be everything but sometimes sheer luck is handy too.

05:05:  I wake up.  I’m not sure what has changed to move me from sleep to wakefulness but I can feel it.  I need to check the time and learn if I have to get up (**groan**) or if I have an extra hour to sleep.  I fumble around in the bed looking for my iPod.  At first I find just the headphone cable and then I carefully begin tracing it through the maze of tossed pillows and messed up blankets, like a firefighter following his hose out of a smoke-filled building.  (Male coupling points to the fire, the female coupling will be on the fire side…why do I remember this?  Then I question my memory.  Wait, think about this logically – when you role a hose you start at the male end so it ends up in the middle of the role to protect the threads.  When you throw a hose to extend a line you hold the female end and toss – that puts the male end pointing towards the fire.  When you attach another hose the female coupling of the second hose will thus be closer to the fire.  Got it!)  Without realizing it I have brought my mind back to life.  Once I finally reach the iPod I shield it under the covers so the glare doesn’t wake up Shirley – ain’t I nice?  I click it on and read the time.  Damn.  My niceness goes out the window along with any plans of sleeping an extra hour – **shove, shove** – “Wake up, dear!”  Shirley moves enough for me to know she will eventually use whatever mind tricks she needs to join me in the land of the wakeful.  Thursday has begun!

05:20:  Emerging from the bedroom and into the kitchen, I hear the dog behind me.  I wonder what he has in his mouth.  It must be something, the dog is like a junkie needing a fix in the morning – he *has* to have a sock or something in his mouth.  Sock if I  am lucky, underwear if I am not.  I decide to not look back and instead continue to make my way to the coffee pot.  The dog detours off to his bed in the living room to chew on whatever it is he stole from the bedroom.  I hope I remember to retrieve it before we get company some day.

05:22:  Coffee poured.  Need food.  Too lazy to cook.  Toast it is.  I go looking for the toaster.  Three drawers later I locate it.  “It’s just that I am tired.”  That must be it – it simply can’t be that my mind still struggles to remember where the toaster migrated to eight months after the kitchen renovation.  No, simply can’t be.  I open the bread cupboard.  (Right one on the first try, too!)  Four bags of bread stare me down.  There’s the leftover hamburger buns, the leftover hot dog buns, the bag with the final remains of a loaf of Calgary Italian Bakery bread from Costco, and the fresh loaf of bread Shirley must have pulled up from the basement.  I start the the Calgary Italian Bakery bread.  I find one slice intact, the remainder of the bag is various bits and pieces.  Bird food.  I grab the one good slice and add the rest to the pile next to the sink of things to get taken out to the chicken coop.  I return to the cupboard and grab the hot dog buns.  Those will do – there are two of them so I add my original slice of bread to the chicken pile.  “Too dry anyway.” I justify to myself.

05:25:  Buns are shoved into the toaster and are slowly heating up.  It’s odd that if they were dry to begin with I’d toss them but if I intentionally dry them out we call it “breakfast”.  I find the peanut butter and open the jar.  Crap, it’s new.  I hate making the first dent in the perfectly smooth surface of a new jar of peanut butter.  Yeah, it’s weird, but whatever.  I get over the hump and plunge the knife in.  Hey, no one said life was easy…

05:28:  I begin wandering around looking for my iPhone and laptop.  I remember having the iPhone on the couch last night when I was watching the Penguins game.  I remember having my phone there because I was spouting off on Twitter about how bad the Penguins were playing.  Despite their loss I feel some satisfaction in that they proved me right by losing their sixth straight game.  With my deep insight such as that (a team that has lost five straight isn’t playing well) I wonder why Hockey Night in Canada never came calling for me.  Their loss, I guess.

05:35:  Laptop booted, toasted buns on a plate, iPhone located and plugged into the charger since it was down to 12%.  I can finally sit down and start banging out another boring “day in the life” blog post. 

06:02:  Realize it is time for work.  Better get ready to face the commute.  Shirley is coming into the city today.  Dog is staying home.  Those factors play heavily into my routine.  Better let the dog out and get his food so Shirley will think I’ve done something productive rather than sitting on my laptop all morning typing like crazy.  As a side note note, if your wife asks “What are you typing?” answering “Emails to my girlfriends” is *not* the correct answer, no matter how funny it is.)  Going to be a long commute, me thinks…

Sometimes you have to love living in Alberta.  Not only does the weather change on a moment’s notice but your options for recreation are seemingly unlimited.  This weekend was a perfect example of that.

Yesterday it was abandoned places in the Canadian Badlands.  Cacti and sagebrush.  Today was snowshoes in the Porcupine Hills.  Spruce trees and snow.  Both less than 90 minutes from my front door. 

Now, in fairness, this has been a drier than average winter for Calgary.  I think it has been a month since we’ve had new snow.  We’ve seen high temps into the double-digits.  Major grassfires and high winds.  This is not a normal January for those of us living north of the 51st parallel.

I have not wasted the chance to get out and enjoy the opportunities presented by not having to travel roads covered in snow and ice.  North to Edmonton, south to Raley, east to Drumheller, west to Kananaskis.  That’s not too bad for getting around this province in the last couple of weeks.

The forecast says things will change after tomorrow.  Snow.  Freezing temperatures.  Basically what we would expect for January.  We always knew it couldn’t last, right?  Whenever we get a stretch of warm weather we fall into the collective trap of wondering if this is *finally* the year we get an early Spring.  I’ll never understand why we do it.  It’s like Canadians marking Groundhog Day; we know in our heads it’s all one big scam – after all, even six more weeks of Winter would mean Spring got here early – yet our hearts make us fall for it one more time.

Rather than lament the warm weather we will be missing, I’ll embrace the wintery weather which is coming.  I shall snowshoe through pristine snow in the blanket of silence that only the heavy blanket of winter brings.  Not only will I *do* it, I will revel in it.

But, before then, I shall take a quick moment to look back at some of the great travels I’ve had since Christmas.  (OK, I admit it – it’s just another excuse to post a picture from that great shoot at Raley.)

Raley, Alberta – December 27, 2011

Carbon, Alberta –- January 7, 2012

Porcupine Hills – January 8, 2012

It’s only natural that as one year ends and another begins that we stop and reflect on where we were and what we accomplished, especially since – if you believe the Mayans – we all have less than a year left anyway.  With that in mind, indulge me while I look back on the lasting memories of 2011.

Those of you who follow DanOCan.com on Facebook will have already seen this video, but if I had to summarize the entire year in five minutes or less this is what it would look like:

January

The Seventh Annual Geocacher Breakfast was held at the Priddis Cafe and Grill.  It was a tremendous success and 32 different Geocaching accounts logged in as attendees – tying the 2006 event as the second most attended of the annual breakfast events.  It’s not easy to get a group of people to drive out into the country in the early hours of a Saturday morning in the dead of winter.

The other January highlight was heading out to visit the Sharples elevator and the Springwater schoolhouse.  Although I have been to these sites multiple times over the last five years, it is always great to see them again – even if our route to Springwater had to be modified because of drifting snow on the main road.

February

Snowshoeing was the activity of the month for February.  Graham and I completed a fairly significant trek on the Tom Snow Trail in Kananaskis.  Shirley and I also found time to attend the Titanic exhibit at the Calgary Science Center.  (Sorry, I can’t bring myself to call it Telus World of Science or Telus Spark as it is now known.)

March

More snowshoeing was in order – it seems like we had an awfully large amount of snow this Spring.  When we weren’t out exploring the best of Kananaskis Country I managed to find time to stop in to see my old friends at Redwood Meadows Emergency Services as they took delivery of their new tender truck.

April

A lot of our time in April was taken up by our kitchen renovation.  We did manage to find time for a road trip to visit the old Bottrel General Store, however. 

We also managed to squeeze in a road trip down to Lethbridge to visit my family for Easter – naturally along the way I felt the urge to stop in at the town of Monarch which is well on its way to becoming a ghost town since the Crowsnest Highway was realigned to bypass the town several years ago. 

And, of course, April marked the Calgary Cache and Release Spring 2011 event and the world was introduced to “Team Short Bus” for the first time…

May

April showers are supposed to bring May flowers but May downpours bring flooding.  We watched with bated breath as the water levels of the nearby creeks continued to rise and eventually spilled over the banks and flooded over the road.  Unlike the floods of 2005 we didn’t suffer any damage or losses but our sump pumps were working overtime to keep the water at bay until things dried out.  We also entered into the final stages of our kitchen renovation and were ready to put our house back into some semblance of order.

Flooding

June

June was a busy month as well.  We went to see Supertramp at the Saddledome and then started our major summer vacation of the year – three weeks of RV’ing on Vancouver Island.  We absolutely fell in love with the Metchosin area and decided we’ll retire there one day.  In between multiple meals of fish and chips we even managed to squeeze in a few good hikes, most notably to the top of Mount Manuel Quimper and out to Ripple Rock.

July

There was no rest for the wicked in July.  We barely had time to unpack from our vacation before it was time to head off to Saskatchewan for the annual Ghost Town Convention.  Having missed the previous year I was looking forward to this event more than normal and it did not disappoint.  After leaving Shirley at her sister’s place in Saskatoon I carried on solo to Humboldt where I dumped the trailer before joining the event in Marysburg.  Out of the four GTCs I have attended this was the best one by far. 

Rather than trying to pick two or three pictures from the 100s I took that weekend, I figured I’d just repost the slideshow I made shortly after the event.

The other notable event in July was nearly breaking my ankle only a week after summiting Ha Ling Peak near Canmore.  I had to compensate for my lack of mobility by finally taking a trip out to see the elevator at Farrow.  It was a good thing I did because the owner would burn the elevator down (for “safety” reasons) just five months later.

August

August was a month of transition.  I was promoted to Manager of Service Operations at the University, earning the promotion I had been wanting for the past five years.  I was finally able to bid farewell [mostly] to the day-to-day systems administration work I had done for the last decade and take the next step in my career.  It was nice to be able to do it with the same organization I have spent so much time with.

I also transitioned from hobbled sore-ankle dude back into a hiker.  I celebrated my return to action with a solo hike up Cox Hill.  We also started to see the first signs of Autumn creeping into the landscape leading me to get out and start doing some photography work in the evenings again.  I also managed to add a road trip to Dorothy and attend a Geocache event on the summit of Mount Burke.  Oh yeah, I also reached my highest summit so far by completing the climb to the top of Mount Allan.  Sometimes you just can’t fit enough living into one summer, you know?

September

Highlights from this month?  Whew!  Shirley’s family all came to our place for the Labour Day long weekend as we hosted the Waddell family reunion.  That was a tremendous amount of fun.  I went out and did some night photography at a friend’s farm near Millarville.  And, to top it off I completed my longest hike ever when I reached the location of the former Forgetmenot Fire Lookout and then went to Railway Days at Heritage Park.

October

Hmm, yet another road trip – this time to check out abandoned places in the SE corner of Alberta.  And, yes, another hike – this time up Canyon Creek to finally find a cache called “Pika Cave” which I had wanted to do for the last five years.  2011 was definitely a year for accomplishing goals that had remained on my plate for far too long.

November

Our only sad event of the year was the death of our beloved cat Nona.  We had her for 12 years and she suddenly was struck down by an arterial thrombosis embolism (ATE).  It was tough to say goodbye but we always knew the day would come, we just didn’t expect it this year.  That was a tough event. 

The month ended on a happier note as we flew to Vancouver to attend the 99th Grey Cup game where the hometown BC Lions beat the Winnipeg Blue Bombers to win the championship.

December

Wow, and here we are.  The last month of the year.  After a quiet Christmas at home we went back to Lethbridge to visit my family again and to also pay a visit to the oldest grain elevator in the province in Raley.

I have NO idea what 2012 holds in store for me.  I know it will have a very hard time living up to 2011 and what a wonderful year it was.  Here’s hoping the Mayans are wrong and we’re all still here one year from now and I’m looking back at 2012 and talking about how great of a year it was. 

If I learned anything in 2011 it is to not delay trying to achieve your goals.  None of us are guaranteed anything and so you have to take advantage of every day you are given.  “Timing is everything” –- as a good friend of mine said this year during the Ghost Town Convention.  Make the most of your time in 2012.

Happy new year, everyone!

It ended exactly as I expected.  I just hadn’t expected it to happen this soon.  Twelve years and one day after it started it came to a sudden end.  Whenever we bring a pet into our lives we know at some point we will likely be faced with the decision we all regret, the decision that says it is time to end the suffering – to do what is right for the animal, not what is right for us.

Before we can ever reach an end there has to be a beginning.  For me that beginning was my 27th birthday – November 18, 1999.  I was presented with a small gift bag and when I opened it I found a small calico kitten staring up at me.  She was so small my first reaction was to ask “Is she even old enough to be away from her mother?”  She was, but just barely.  She was exactly six weeks of age, a small bundle of fur shocked and scared and wondering why she had been taken from the warmth of her mother and driven from a small farm north of Airdrie to our house in Calgary.

She would eventually be known as Nona.  That name wouldn’t come for several days, however.  At first we simply couldn’t decide what to call her.  One evening I happened to joke that if we didn’t come up with a name soon we should just call her “No Name” – “NoNa” for short.  With one flippant statement she had been christened, although we would tell people it was a tribute to Nonna’s which was one of our favourite pizza restaurants in Vauxhall, AB.

There are so many memories from those early days.  That first night I was getting up every hour to look for her and to make sure she was doing OK.  I remember we placed her litter box in the basement and she was too tiny to navigate the stairs – a fact we didn’t clue into until she had an accident on the newspaper under the kitchen table.

I also remember the first time she caught a mouse.  It was in the bathroom basement and she had been playing with it on the floor until we eventually trapped it under a cup and relocated it to the country. Nona kept making pawing motions at the housecoat that was on the floor and we commented “Ah, isn’t that cute?  She thinks the mouse is still in there.”  Imagine our shock when we picked the housecoat up and a second mouse fell onto the floor.  She knew it all along and just couldn’t figure out why we were so stupid.

Nona would have to tolerate us and our annoying habits on many occasions.  I’m sure she never understood why we insisted on taking her camping, or hooking her up to a leash when she was outside on the deck.  After all, there was so much yard to explore, why couldn’t she run free?  She never did learn to enjoy baths, although we never passed up a chance to humiliate her further by taking all sorts of pictures when she was all soaking wet.

It’s not that we were the only troublemakers in our household.  One day she decided to take a running jump onto the kitchen table – she slid   right off the edge and crashed into one of the kitchen chairs which then toppled over backwards and into the kitchen window, shattering it. 

One day she also managed to get one of her claws caught in the drywall, and had to stand there with one paw stuck up in the air until one of us heard her cries and came to her rescue. 

I can’t count the number of times she would crawl down behind the couch in the trailer and drop into one of the storage compartments.  Again, she would have to stay there [not-so] patiently waiting until one of us would pop open the door and release her from her self-imposed prison.

Oh, she could annoy us to no end.  She loved computers.  You couldn’t sit at a keyboard without having her plop down on it, or grab at the cord of the mouse causing it to rip right out of your hands.  Many times we would come home to find our laptops in a frozen state because the keyboard buffer was full because she had a nap on the keys.  We simply got in the habit of putting the lid partway down to prevent this sort of thing. 

Even now, as I sit here typing this I expect her to jump onto my desk and step in front of the monitor, obscuring my screen.  She would always rub against the LCD and leave large amounts of fur stuck all over it.  She never liked having to share our attention with anything else.  Of course, that was when *she* was in the mood for it.  Try to sit with her when she didn’t want to and you were likely to be met with a hiss and a swat.  Clearly we spoiled that cat and gave her a ton of attitude.

Whenever she would do something we didn’t like, such as scratching the couch or pouncing on us on weekend mornings when we were trying to sleep in, I would always comment “Oh, some day we’re going to miss this.  Some day we’ll be wishing she was here to bug us.”

“Some day” finally came yesterday.  I came in from the garage after a long hike.  I dropped my backpack on the stairs and walked into the kitchen ready to start cooking dinner.  As soon as I came in I knew something was wrong.  Shirley was there holding Nona who was all wrapped up in a towel.  The tears were already flowing and she told me “Something’s wrong with Nona – she can’t walk.” 

I figured this was the typical female over-reaction so I took the cat from her and laid her on the table.  I opened the blanket.  Nona looked perfectly fine.  Then she tried to get up but she couldn’t move either of her back legs.  She was paralyzed and was clearly experiencing pain.  At that moment I knew “the day” had come.  This was not good.

We wrapped her up and took off into the city to a 24-hour vet clinic.  Shirley always told me how on Nona’s first car ride Nona was so quiet they had to keep checking on her to make sure she was OK.  This time that wasn’t a problem – she was howling and we knew she wasn’t OK.  Neither one us wanted to say it but we both knew this was Nona’s final ride.

We walked in to the clinic and were quickly ushered into a room.  The lab tech took a look at Nona and then called for the vet.  They took her away and hauled her to the back to give her some painkillers.  After taking our information we sat in that little room waiting for what we knew was coming.  The vet came in and gave us the explanation.  Arterial thrombosisembolism.  Essentially a blood clot had formed in her heart and broken free and blocked all the blood flow to the rear half of her body.  We could transfer her to a specialist but the success rate for treating the condition was “not good”. 

We made the decision we always knew would come.  I’m thankful it was an easy one.  It was not a question of the treatment being too expensive – we weren’t being put in the uncomfortable position of putting a dollar figure on our pet’s life.  It was simply time to end her pain and let her go.

They brought her back to us and we had a few minutes alone with her to say goodbye.  The vet came back and Shirley left the room to sit in the car.  I stayed and stroked Nona’s head and paw and finally uttered the words “Go ahead.”

The vet began pushing the blue liquid out of the syringe and into the IV.  Nona slowly closed her eyes and then her head drooped down onto her paws and she went to sleep.  It was the most peaceful thing to finally hear her cries of pain come to an end.  I gave her head one final stroke and then walked out the door as the vet carried Nona away one last time.

Twelve years and one day…thanks for the memories.

October 7, 1999 – November 19, 2011