Merry Christmas!

There is nothing more festive than sleeping in, playing Risk (and being severely trounced!), tank wars, drinking coffee, listening to some festive music, and simply relaxing! The last week has been pretty busy for Luke and I, but we've managed to sneak in some quality goofing-around time (not too hard if you're married to Luke). We're both on the brink of a busy semester: Luke with his 6 and a half classes and part-time job and me with my 2 classes and full-time job (did we really sign our selves up for all of this? :). I hope you all get a chance to sneak some Tank-Wars (computer game) or some other relaxing activities into your busy lives!

See you on the the other side of the holidays!

-Jenn

Christmas Musical, and a Musical Christmas

Our visit with my family was quite the "musical" one this year. We took in Briercrest's Christmas Musical, "Garret's Gift," which was amazing! The singing was phenomenal, and the story was really great as well. I'm impressed that the whole thing was an original, from the script to the song lyrics and musical arrangement. Though we slipped in 10 minutes late (as it an inescapable family custom), we really enjoyed ourselves.

Perhaps more significantly is the other aspect to this "musical" early-Christmas of ours. Jenn has wanted a keyboard for a long time, but it's one of those things that can't easily fit into a student's budget. Though we weren't officially exchanging presents during this visit, my parents brought in a couple of gifts. One of them was a music stand and a pedal. "What good are these?" we wondered. But then, with the same hesitant realization of a sixteen-year-old whose dad just gave a set of keys, we asked, "So... does this mean...?" Dad and I went out to the van, and sure enough, resting beneath the luggage, was the keyboard. We brought it in, and Jenn could hardly contain her excitement!

Because of its frostiness (as seen in the picture above), we had to wait a good hour before plugging it in. This is probably the best gift we could have received. The rest of the night was spent singing carols, and "make-fun-of-you" songs about Lacey's cellphone... We are now nicely equipped for plenty more musical Christmases.

Christmas Isn't Complete Without Toxic Pie

Christmas came early for Jenn and I this year. My family is heading to La Paz, Mexico for two months, and will be gone during the "real" Christmas, so they stopped in for about 40 hours on their way west and then south.

It wasn't your average family visit (or maybe it was... family things tend to be a little odd). By the end of the night, we were all convinced that our apartment was haunted! First, while playing some card games, the glass coffee table in the middle of the room cracked and broke without anyone leaning on it! Next, about half an hour later, we heard some clattering in the kitchen. When I checked it out, the margarine had somehow bumped the refrigerator door open, and had tumbled to the floor. The fridge had been closed for hours, so it was odd that it should burst open all of a sudden. Finally, our pies acted strangely as they finished baking. I always make the crusts, and Jenn always fills them. Usually there are no problems with this process. We've made, baked, and eaten plenty of pies since living here. But for some reason, when these particular pies were baking, all of our eyes started watering. When Jenn looked into the oven, the pie crust was dripping, and the drips burst into flame when they fell onto the element on the bottom of the oven! Jenn exclaimed, "It's like something toxic is in them!" After going over the ingredients, I realized the only oddity was that I used tap water instead of bottled water this time. We all know how bad Caronport water is -- it tastes so irony, and dries out the skin. But can it really cause a pie crust to drip flammable drops? Only science can know.

Whatever was the cause, it didn't the keep the pies from tasting good or from being eaten. It was great fun having family here, even if the occasion brings with it inexplicable phenomena ...

"I feel good!"

Today I stand atop a mound of smoking paper, looking across the vast land of laden waste.

In other words, my 20-page 1 Peter paper is done! Hallelujah! It was a lot of fun to research these past eight weeks, but finally it's handed in. I suppose this is a foretaste of what it will be like to graduate this spring... This feeling of freedom and relaxation and utter calmness. Sigh... what a feeling.

Of course, I do still have 8 papers (approx 70-80 pages) left this semester... so it's not like I'm finished, but for now, until I can get books for the next round, it's time to relax. And as my old friend Jimmy Brown says, "I feel good."

I'd like to thank my wife for helping me to get here today. Without all her constant encouragement and food-making, I doubt I would have survived.

Peace out.

The Holy Grail (so to speak...)

This weekend I was part of a story of drama and intrigue, disappointment and triumph, exasperation and joy. It was the story of one man and his quest for the renown Liddell-Scott-Jones Greek-English Lexicon.

Not many libraries have a take-home copy of the LSJ. But UofS does. It's a beastly book, thicker than most lexicons. I have BDAG (a pretty intensive New Testament lexicon) in my personal library, but the LSJ has a much broader focus, incorporating non-biblical Greek into its range of coverage. It's a handy tool for doing word studies in the Greek New Testament. I'm currently doing that as part of some papers I am working on, so my need for LSJ was noted.

Anyways, we headed up to Saskatoon to see Paul and Darla MacDiarmid and their kids, Liam, Saryn, and new little Lewis. It is tons of fun playing with those kids. Liam is getting bigger, so it's not as easy these days to give him "Spaceship" rides in the laundry basket...

When we arrived in Saskatoon, Jenn dropped me off at the Library, and she headed over to the MacDiarmids' house. I went on an exciting book hunt. My first stop was the Circulation Desk. If you don't have a functional library card, even the most fruitful hunt will end up meaningless if you can't even take out the books that you captured. My card had expired, so I asked the kind ladies at the desk to reactivate it for me. It was tougher than I expected... The computer decided to hate me, and the information wouldn't update, and my card could not be renewed. Gasp! The supervisor lady, very apologetically, offered to save the books I wanted until Monday. By then the IT guys would be back to work, and they could figure out this problem. Unfortunately, I informed her, I would be gone by Monday. But, with a glimmer of hope, I asked if I could take books out on my wife's account. She said, surely I could. So I skipped away in search of the much-coveted LSJ.

I remembered the path well. Across the foyer, passed the photocopiers, down the hall, up the winding stairs, to the third floor, find the PA section, walk to the little open area, find the third section of the bookshelf, and look for the really big, fat, juicy one. And there it was. Fully available for my use. It's the black book in the picture above. And BDAG, as aforementioned, is beside it. It feels like a sacred place up there on the third floor of the Library's North Wing. There sit rows and rows of Greek grammatical, morphological, lexical, and syntactical aids. I love the smell of the old paper.

After a brief, and nearly emotional, moment, I grabbed up the Liddell-Scott-Jones (hailing all the way from 1854), and a good Greek grammar book by two German guys, translated by a Mennonite named Funk. With these two ancient treasures under my arm (or rather on top of both my arms because of their weight), I spun around to leave. Down the stairs, through the hall, around the copiers, across the foyer, and, what's this? The ladies at the Circulation Desk waved me over.

"We got it to work!" they both exclaimed. "Really?!" I enthusiastically replied, "That's super!" I happily turned the books over to be scanned and desensitized. It seemed almost appropriate that the due date receipt didn't want to print out... Computers these days... So one lady scribbled my due date on a piece of paper. As she did, she smiled and said, "Well, you better get 100% on that assignment of yours!" I promised them I would do my best. With a hearty "THANK-YOU!" I sat down once again at a computer and waited for Jenn to pick me up.

Ten minutes later, we were on our way to the MacDiarmids' for a Mexican supper, and some fun with the kids. We were on the road again by 8:30, and home just before midnight.

A good trip all around. My little book-shelf-on-wheels weighs about 15 pounds more thanks to my new (but very old) treasures. I hope it all comes together. All this book acquisition sure is a lot of work -- but oh so fun.

Take care everybody.

What? Is it my shift already?

Today was the start of intramural hockey. I'm not on the team... With six classes and loads of papers, I can't dream of being committed twice a week to a team. Maybe next year. But tonight I got out there with the guys for an exhibition game. A few of the guys I worked with this summer are on one of the teams, so I played with them.

It was great! Though my skates were rusty, and my breathing was laboured, and my legs were burning, it was tons of fun. It's to be expected, I think, on the first game, to feel as though you will puke after every shift.. Happily, my body restrained itself. That in itself is a victory. It's amazing how tired a person becomes after only 30 seconds of skating... It seemed like there was some sort of conspiracy; every time I finally got back on the bench, it was my turn to get out there again. "What?! My turn already?!" I'd lament as someone pushed me out the door... Oh well, since I happened to grab the Captain's jersey in the lock-room, I figure I better do my part.

In other news...

This year is progressing nicely. Jenn has won the confidence of everyone she works with in the Academic Office. She's got those faculty eating out of her hand -- and why shouldn't they? She's the mastermind that makes their jobs possible. Without behind-the-scenes crew members like her, there is no way Briercrest could run as it does.

On my end, I have more papers to write than I know what to do with, but I'm having the funnest (or perhaps "meatiest") school year I've ever had. I think I was predestined to be a nerd. My whole life has led up to it. Why fight it? If you're on a speed boat that is about to hit a humongous wave, you don't cower in the sight of it; rather, you squeeze the hand of the person next to you (preferably your spouse), and exclaim, "This is going to be some ride!"

Jenn and I have also taken up a serious interest in The Office (US). It's just the right combination of awkward, annoying, hilarious, and touching to keep us hooked and coming back for more. And speaking of The Office, it's time that we back to it...

Peace out, Internet.

New Bikes on the Block

Just more than one week ago, Jenn and I received two (well-used) brand-new bikes. One of my professors and his wife no longer needed a couple of bikes they had sitting in their garage (since they upgraded last year), and thought we might make good use of them. And have we ever. Caronport is a small place, almost as small as it gets. But it's a whole new experience at 20km an hour!

We received the bikes free of charge, so we're quite excited. We have been up and down the local dirt-roads, and over pretty much every street in Caronport (that's at least... 7 or 8?). It's liberating to get to school in 30 seconds, while walking took a whole 3 minutes.

All they have cost us is a measly $13 for bike locks. This little town is a very safe community to live in, unless you're a single bike just waiting by the racks unattended all day. Even in Caronport there are young thugs who would love nothing more than to get ahold of a fresh pair of wheels and go for a spin. Bikes go missing all the time around here... and show up again, but their disappearance is annoying nonetheless. But our locks will see to it that, though we may be the only people locking our bikes up, we will be the only people who have no stories of stolen cycles.

If you're ever in Caronport, be sure to bring your bike. Don't forget your lock, and watch for pedestrians.

Take care out there.

Always Check the Gas Tank: Lessons Learned at Lake Diefenbaker.

Just over a week ago, our good friends Jordon and Jill Henry accompanied us on a camping adventure (we were excited to sneak in a camping weekend before the end of summer). Lake Diefenbaker was our chosen spot. The Henrys met us out at Caronport by 7:00pm or so, and we were off. It was dark by the time we arrived at the camp ground, so it was a lot of fun finding a vacant place to pitch our tents. Finally, by 11:00 we were sitting in front of a sheepish fire (sheepish because, in that provincial park, you can only light a fire in those little cooking stands...). The next day we explored the place. We learned from the local store that if we drove into the next town, we could rent a fishing boat and go out onto the lake. That sounded like a great idea, so we promptly left in search of some outboarding fun.

The family running the boat shop was very friendly. The husband loaned Jordon a fishing rod free of charge, and only asked that he bring it back in one piece. Then we skipped down the dock-stairs to find our boat. The guy in charge was no where to be seen. We waited for a few minutes, and, when he didn't appear, we jumped into the only boat that looked prepared for people -- there was only one with life-jackets and paddles. I took the "captain's chair" since Jordon wanted to fish. We made our way out of the harbor, and onto the choppy water.

It was great fun! The waves (for Saskatchewan) were swelling, and gave a triumphant spray when we smashed through them. We got pretty soaked... After 15 minutes or so, Jordon decided he'd like to try some fishing. I stirred the boat closer to the shore where we were told the fishing is better. It was there that we made a destiny-changing error... I turned off the engine. It started up well enough when we started out, so I assumed we'd be on our way just fine...

After Jord had tried his luck with the fish for 20 minutes, and found that the fish weren't up to being fooled, we decided to go on shore to explore a little. However -- the engine would no longer start. I tried, Jenn tried, Jordon tried, but it refused to catch. We washed ashore, tied up the boat and made the best of it. It was a neat little beach (pictured above) with little inlets and multi-colored rocks. The water was too choppy for skipping stones, but the day was perfect for a miscellaneous excursion. We sat and chatted for a while, and decided to try the boat again. Jill walked back to the harbor (since she didn't want to become sea-sick), and the three of us tried to convince the boat to start again. Jordon and I took turns in the water, holding the boat in place and away from the rocks (this was necessary since the waves and wind were quite forceful). No luck. Thankfully, a boatload of cowboy-fishermen found us. They called out, "Hey there! You folks need help?" We threw them our line and they towed us back. They admitted to us that we were the only "catch" they made that day.

Finally, we were back in the harbor. We docked, and found ourselves face to face with the man who rented us the boat. "What happened? Why'd you guys leave?" We explained that he was no where to be found, and that we saw this boat stocked with life-jackets and paddles, and assumed it was ours. We had just missed each other, however, and our mis-hap adventure was the result. If we had waited around a few more minutes, he would have come down, explained how to best work with the engine, and would have made sure the gas tank was full. That was the main problem we discovered. He told us, "It's amazing that you got as far as you did with that little gas."

When it was all said and done, he only charged us for one hour's use, and no gas... since there wasn't any in there to begin with... Needless to say, we were glad to be on our way back to camp, to a fire, and to some supper.

Perhaps it wasn't the most flawless of camping adventures, but it was memorable anyway. Just what was needed before another busy school year.

Take care out there.

The Providential Slowdown

This weekend our plans have been drastically rearranged. We were to go to Winnipeg to celebrate my uncle and aunt's wedding reception, but our car had different plans. Two or three days ago, the car turned a blind eye to Jenn's attempts to drive to Moose Jaw. It simply wouldn't start. Upon a little laymen inspection, we decided it wasn't the battery because of the awful noise it made when trying to turn over. Eventually (probably because of our repeated attempts) the battery died completely. We were afraid of a larger problem that would land somewhere in the neighborhood of $500 to fix. But for the time being we weren't too worried. The car waited until we were back home again before it broke down. We've done so much traveling in the past couple of weeks that we were so grateful that the breakdown would happen in our own drive way. Jenn and I both work right in this little town, so surviving without a car for a few days wasn't the end of the world.

A few days passed by as we discussed the best course of action. We have heard far too many horror stories to bring the car to the local mechanic. (They say he is doublely expensive and half as experienced as elsewhere. If you do the math, that's only 1/4 as good as somewhere else, so we didn't want to bring our beloved Cavalier to him.) Tow truck companies pretty much wanted us to sign over the rights to our firstborn to get the car to Moose Jaw (not really, but it was quite expensive...). Finally, on a whim, we decided to try boosting the car. The next day at lunch, I brought one of the work trucks home, and to our surprise and unexpected excitement, it roared to a start! So then we happily got on our way to Moose Jaw.

The city sign (posted above) reads, "The Friendly City." It's very true. Moose Jaw is a fun little place where everything costs less (like parking: 45 minutes for 25 cents -- and movies: Galaxy Cinemas, $5.65 regular price) and people give you the time of day. Really, it's kind of like a much larger version of Caronport (though the likeness is sure to break down at some point, but we like it.) We found the Canadian Tire Auto Service, and got our car in. The man who spoke to us apologized for his slowness and slurred speech because, he explained, he was experiencing the affects of Benadryl. He was a friendly old man who had the appearance of a loving grandfather, so I believed him immediately. He explained that a once-over on the car would be roughly $18, and one hour of our time. That sounded super, so we turned over the keys and walked off to find supper.

The past few days, weather-wise, have been rather undecided. The mornings are cool, the afternoons are very hot, and the evenings often turn to rain or thundershowers. But yesterday, as we walked to Joey's Only, rain came just in the nick of time, when we were without a car, and far away from trees. So, laughing (and soaking) we ran and ran. It wasn't that far, but we were certainly wet by the time we walked through the restaurant doors.

We had a nice dinner and chat, and realized it was time to brave our way back to the Grandfather Man and our car. To our relief, the sun had chased off the clouds, and our walk back to Canadian Tire was a much drier one.

Upon returning, Grandfather Man told us that we need only to fix a ball bearing. Nothing else is critical, and it will only cost us around $120! Unbelievable. And here we were bracing ourselves for something much steeper. I have termed this situation the "Providential Slowdown" because it has been fairly obvious to us that we are being taken care of. An inexpensive car-fix is definitely appreciated in the face of a heavy tuition school year.

So, in an hour from now we'll zip in again to fix up our old four-wheeled soldier and be ready for the next adventure.

Take care out there.

Passing the Paint Brush

For almost ten years I have been involved with my parents' summer businesses as The Sign Painter. It has been fun working as a "conceptual artist," that is, hearing all of my dad's ideas and somehow finding a way to put them on paper, and then sign board. White Bear, Saskatchewan, the place where we have all the businesses operating, is a very unique place. It's a relaxed, slow-paced resort situated on a Native reserve. It has a fairly decent lake, a nice 18-hole golf course (Challenge the Bear), a load of cabins, and a smattering of business at the resort's entrance. Most of those belong to my parents. We've got a mini golf, restaurant, ice cream shop, fruit stand, kids' train ride, and a petting zoo. The area has a happy-go-lucky feel to it, and so hand-painted advertising fits right in.

I have been the primary painter these past several years, and now that things in my life are changing (I'm married, am almost done my degree, who knows where we'll be living next, etc) I spend a lot less time down at White Bear. And so, in the natural order of things, a new painter is dawning. My youngest sister Gina is quite the little artist, and she is quickly aspiring to be the next Ogy's painter. Jenn and I were down in White Bear last weekend to help out a bit. We cut grass, painted signs, helped out in the kitchen, and with the animals. It was a busy and very hot weekend. On the last night there, I was about to head off to Carlyle to fix up one more sign, and my little sister Gina came outside, grabbed ahold of my arm and said, "Can I help paint?" I was surprised and delighted. So the two of us drove off to Carlyle, racing against the decreasing sunlight.

When we arrived, we agreed that I would paint one side, and Gina would paint the other. It was fun. The sign is a double-sided, 4x8 foot sign that sits at the crux of the 13 and 9 highways. I penciled out the letters for Gina, and she did a good job. It was cute to hear her exclaim when some paint would drip, or when she went outside the lines I drew for her. I quickly, and repeatedly reassured her that "painting isn't an exact science. You don't have to be worried about little things like that. Often the black outlining you put on at the end will cover that stuff up. And of course there is always paint thinner." I showed her some tricks for clean-up, and to decrease drippage. We also had some laughs while discussing the various letters in the alphabet, and rated their difficulty when painting them. "W is hard," I'd say, and "So is M," she replied.

Finally the job was done, and all her work looked so good! It's good to know that once I'm off doing other things regularily enough that I can't do it anymore, Dad still has somebody who will be fully capable to paint the next goofy sign. I told Gina she was doing a super job, and that I have full confidence that she'll be a super painter. The she exclaimed, "Cool! We're in the Super Painters Club! Two members!" On the way home we discussed all the rights and priviledges of such a club (like the odorous smell of paint thinner that finds its way into your pours and never leaves, or the paint in the creases of your fingernails that you just can't quite get out no matter how hard you scrub, or the fun of painting something funny, and watching people smile at it).

The biggest part of the fun was creating this little connection between Gina and I. We're 14 years apart in age, and I haven't spent a lot of time with my littlest sisters since I moved out five years ago. This will improve now that the family has moved out to Saskatchewan from BC. So that means there will be many more occassions for the Super Painters Club to unite and create something fun.

Take a Gander

We have had some requests for wedding pictures. We don't have our professional pictures up yet, but we do have some that friends have taken. If you look to the right panel on this page, you'll see a new feature entitled "Pictures." One link brings you to pictures of our new place here in Caronport, as well as Honeymoon pictures. The other link features pictures of the wedding ceremony taken by John Skardzius, a long time friend of Jenn's parents. We'll add some of our own pictures as well when we get the chance. Check back once in a while to see what's new. Enjoy!

A Whirlwind Tour of Regina and Beyond

This summer Jenn and I have been busy beavers catching up with friends. Just about every weekend we've managed to zip out of Caronport to go somewhere to see somebody. This past weekend's destination was Regina.

Saturday, noonish, we luncheoned at the south-end Kelsey's with Jordon and Jill of the Henry clan. It was great to swap stories, and to see their fancy new wheels. After saying our "See you later's" in the down-pouring rain, we sloshed over to The Bay to snatch our T-Fal super duper grill (Thanks, Fink! We grilled up some chicken on it tonight!), and headed down to Lang to see Darren and Meghan at his parents' farm. It was such a humid Saturday! It felt like India (though I've never been there... but I hear it's warm). It's fun to catch up with good friends. Darren got me up to speed on all the NHL trades that have gone on so far this summer. I daren't fall behind lest I fall short of the prize in this year's fantasy hockey draft! That night it was far too hot to get a bonfire going, so we watched "Shooter" instead. (It's a good shoot-em-up show. Mark Wahlberg did a good job of being manly... and killed a lot of people, and blew a lot of things up.)

The next morning we zipped back to Regina for church. I hadn't been to Celebration in quite a while, and it felt good to see some old faces. The sermon was super. It was all about Friendship, which was highly appropriate considering the nature of our Regina visit. (It's one of the best sermons I've heard in a while. If you have a spare 20 minutes sometime, you should download it -- http://www.celebrationlutheran.ca/podcasts.htm. Sunday, July 22, "Friendship First.")

After church we headed over to a couple's house who are expecting their second child, and are building a new house (the completion of these two exciting things is to happen in the same month -- the baby on September 22, and the house on September 13! It doesn't get much more exciting!). We got to walk through their new home as it stands. Right now it is just framed walls, but it was neat to imagine what it will become.

Our last stop of the day was at Ryan Fink's. He filmed our wedding for us. If you're getting married sometime soon, I'd say give Ryan a shout. He did a fantastic job at capturing the day. We watched the whole ceremony, and the quality of it made you feel like you were there again. Then off to Montana's for supper together, and home we flew to Caronport.

Whew! Quite a busy weekend, but definitely worth it. Good friends are always worth the work it takes to see them. For now, Jenn and I can sit tight and enjoy the AC until another weekend whirls its way onto our path. Take care, everyone.

62 or Bust!

Jenn and I have finally given in to the heavy heat that has descended upon southern Saskatchewan. Our little apartment is on the top floor (of only two floors... so it's not that tragic), so after a day's heat has settled, our place feels a tad stifling. Yesterday was the last straw. We got home from visiting my family at White Bear, and found the house "un-sleep-able." We ended up sleeping in front of the open patio door to survive. When we woke the next morning, Jenn declared, "We're getting an air conditioner today!"

First thing Monday afternoon we zipped into Canadian Tire, and grabbed a nice little 6000 BTU unit. After a couple of hours, we had a wood-frame set up to house the machine, and to keep it from plunging 20 feet to the ground, and voila! Cold air. It's a luxury to have the power to make our room so cold that a heavy blanket is necessary! 62°F is a wonderful feeling.

Pankcakes [an illumination on a previous story]

Before I say anything else today, I would like to point out to you the phenomenon that is an internet image search. Have you ever noticed the wide variety of strange pictures you can find on the internet? Take the one I have posted above. An enticing stack of mouthwatering pancakes smothered in deliciously warm syrup (you can make up in your own mind whether it is Corn syrup or Maple -- whatever suits your fancy). Why are there pictures of pancakes on the internet? Why are there photos of toe jam? It makes you wonder if there are professional photographers out there who spend their days taking pictures of random things. I suppose if you are in the restaurant business, you would have a valid reason for wanting a striking picture of a favourite breakfast food. But it still seems strange to me that you can find a good picture of pretty much anything on the web. Try it. I dare you.

Getting back to the purpose of today's blog -- "pancakes" has been an evolving theme these past two weeks. I've mentioned before that each morning, Jenn gets up with me and makes breakfast while I get myself ready for work. One morning as I straggled out of bed, she asked, "Would you like pancakes this morning?" I don't know that my response was entirely intelligible, but my crusty-eyed, fluffy-headed, sleepy-sounding response was an emphatic, yet groggy, "Yes please!" We ate, and Jenn waved to me as I walked out of sight (as is our custom).

The day got on, and by 10 o'clock all of us Groundsmen were seated around the "coffee-table" as it is called, though it is much more like an old, slightly-beaten conference table in size. There is a lot of banter around that table each day, and to be honest, it's the funnest part of the work day. Previous to that morning, the other Groundsmen had already become quite aware of Jenn's faithful breakfast-making each morning (I brag to them because my wife is the only one who makes her husband breakfast in the morning), and they asked me (as they do every day), "So, did your wife make you breakfast this morning?" I smiled unashamedly and replied, "Why yes she did. She made pancakes." Suddenly my cohorts became wide-eyed and exclaimed, "PANCAKES?! She made you pancakes?!" They were filled with disgust (not because I consumed pancakes, but because I had and they had not; this kind of disgust is routed in jealousy).

As the day went on (as noted in a previous blog), I kept receiving trade offers for Jenn: "My wife for your wife," or "I'll give you two draft picks! Think of the potential! You could have two instead of one... And I could have pancakes!" I told Nathan (the draft-picks offerer) that I would be hard pressed to find anyone like Jenn -- as would he. (I disagreed with him that he could find someone like her on eBay. But I did mention that she has a younger sister who is single... I'm sorry, Reb... He's a nice guy, really.)

Since then, I have submitted to answering addresses such as "Hey Pancakes!" or "G'morning Flap Jacks." I don't mind at all. Each time they do, they freshly admit who has the best wife of all.

A World Away

Today's post isn't an "Amazing Adventure," but rather testament to my solitudedness. On Thursday morning, Jenn drove off to Winnipeg to catch a plane to Montreal. One of the bridesmaids from our wedding six weeks ago is getting married TODAY! I write this at 10:04am Saskatchewan time, so I suppose that would be just past noon in Montreal. Not long now, Liz.

Anyways, I watched my wife drive away two days ago, and it was a weird feeling. It was a strange alone feeling. You see, every morning, Jenn gets up at 6:15 with me and makes breakfast while I get ready for work. She packs me a snack, sees me out the door, and waves through the window as I walk off to work. (One of the unmarried guys at work finds this amusing and jealousy-inspiring -- especially when I told him one morning that Jenn made pancakes for breakfast! "Pancakes?! She made you pancakes?! Man! I want your wife!" he exclaimed. He even offered to give me a few "draft picks" --- ie: girlfriend selections --- in return, but I quickly and kindly affirmed that I wasn't interested in trading Jenn in, thank-you.) It's nice to come home from a hot day of grounds work to our little apartment knowing that there is somebody waiting to welcome me. It's fun having a wife. You've always got somebody with whom you can share stories, and eat with, and watch Smallville during supper.

This is probably the sappiest blog I've ever written, but after a month and some of being married, you really get used to the whole thing, and it feels very strange to be by yourself. I hope you're enjoying Montreal, Jenn, but come home soon! I'll be waiting.

The makings of a strong connection...

Today we stand victorious o'er a problem that has harrowed us since we first arrived in Caronport. Our phone jack. Jenn put it well in saying that our phone jack is "rotting." Every once and a while another piece of it crumbles off and leaves our connection to the telephonic network even more uncertain. There have been many instances in which we have enjoyed a quiet evening without the phone ringing, only to realize that the reason the phone has not rung is because the phone cord had become slightly loose, and was no longer making a connection. The phone would be dead, and our answering machine wouldn't be able to pick up any missed calls. So on those days, it is as though we were completely without a phone.

Last night was the last straw. It was Canada Day, and we had planned to get together with some friends around 9:30 to watch the fireworks in Moose Jaw (which by the way were some of the best and longest fireworks I have ever seen --- way better than even Niagra Falls', or the show put on for Saskatchewan's centennial!). Our friends, Stafford and Joanne, told us that they would give us a call later on to let us know if they could come along. Well, it was approaching 9:30 and we hadn't heard from them. I tried to call them and realized -- OUR LINE WAS DEAD! So I maniacally forced the cord back into the wall, called it a few names, and was then able to make my call. On the phone, Stafford asked me, "Did you guys go out for a while or something? We tried to call a few times earlier, but the phone just kept ringing and ringing, and your answering machine never kicked in." I assured him we hadn't, and that the fault completely lay with our phone jack.

When I got off the phone, I said aloud, "That's the last straw! Jenn, where's the masking tape?!" For the next 15 minutes I ensured that our eroding phone jack would never again cause us this frustration! The picture above is the result of my retribution. I don't believe we shall ever again suffer from a faulty phone jack. Resistance is futile. And... impossible. If you were a phone jack, could you move under that much tape?

Caronport birds are weird.

For the last couple of weeks, I have been working as part of the Grounds crew here in Caronport. We're the "Make It Look Good" team, trimming trees, cutting grass, working the landscape, and weed wacking constantly. A day usually goes by without too much to speak for. However, yesterday we had some strange visitors.

We were digging up some dead bushes beside one of the dorms, and we noticed a few little robins making their way toward us. Usually birds fly away at a moments' notice, and at the drop of a pin. But Caronport's robin population is very weird. They are almost completely tamed. A little robin stood only 3 feet away from my shoe as I dug a hole, starring up at me, waiting expectantly. When I threw the load of dirt to the side, the robin bounced its way to the top and plucked out a few worms. Then down it came and stood, waiting again for the next load. This was very astonishing to me, so I tried another. I dumped the soil, and again the little bird bobbled its way to the soil pile and plucked a few more worms, and then down to its waiting spot again! This continued for several minutes until the robin had no more beak space for more worms. It flew away only to return about 20 minutes later!

These birds' tameness does not only extend to shoveling workers. Another day I was whipping some weeds down with a very load 4-stroke engine Honda weed-wacker. As I made my way around a picnic bench, I saw a robin standing on the ground, looking the opposite direction. I thought it would surely fly away since the machine I was using is so loud, and should frighten such small animals away. But I actually walked around the robin with the weed-wacker as I continued working. I thought for a moment that maybe it was dead or deaf. But that couldn't be. When I walked closer to it, the robin walked a little further away. And it couldn't be deaf, because when I left, it continued to hunt for worms by pecking its beak into the ground and pulling out worms. (As far as I know, they must have quite the sensitive audio to detect underground worms.) So I really don't know what's up. The only explanation I have is that Caronport birds are weird.

Interview gone biblical

The last few days I've been job hunting in Moose Jaw. I've been hired half time by the school to do some maintenance stuff around the campus, but I've been in search of job #2. When I dropped of a resume at Staples a few days ago, they set up an interview right away for today. It was very strange... Possibly the weirdest, and most enjoyable I've ever had!

When Tony, the manager interviewing me, saw that I was studying to receive a BA in Biblical Studies, he became interested and asked all sorts of questions about what sort of ministry I wanted to get into. He talked for a long time on the importance of having a wider view of the Gospel - not just that Jesus died for our sins, but that the Gospel encompasses all of life once a person has surrendered him/herself to God - and that he was quite glad to see people taking biblical education working in secular jobs. He continued saying, "The secular job environment is a ministry in itself, wouldn't you agree?" I started thinking, "What the heck? Is this an interview for Staples, or is this a pastoral candidacy?" So I kept him going for a while so we didn't have discuss all the regular questions.

Later on he asked what my most difficult class had been. I explained that it was Old Testament Social Justice -- a class that looked at the Law of the Old Testament along with its promises, blessings, and curses, and used those as a framework to look at social issues in our own time - such as how Nike treats its factory workers, or the way the homeless are dealt with in different parts of the world, world hunger, prostitution, slavery, etc... I told him it was a tough course because it makes you feel like a bad person for being so rich and doing basically nothing, and also because it's an interdisciplinary class forcing you to smash two areas of study into one. Weirdly enough, this is his main "extra-curricular" interest, and he talked about this for 10 minutes or so, even siting Christopher H. Wright's book, "Old Testament Ethics," the book that was the textbook for the class.

So, by the time we finished discussing all that stuff, we had to hurry through the regular interview questions before the hour was up. I have another interview with the other manager tomorrow. I doubt I'll have a repeat-experience. But just incase, I think I'll brush up on a few things tonight...

It's Alive!

Hooray! Since we moved in, we've had a lingering frustration with our internet. We've spent so much time on the phone with SaskTel... Finally we grabbed a new modem and behold, it lives! This is a lame story, but believe me, I'm riveted with excitement right now. I'm not joking.

So it is now with complete freedom that we may blog and bank and surf right from our kitchen table (until the office is finished with painting...)! No more trips to Briercrest's library!

A New Job for Jennifer

Today Jenn starts her brand new job. She's working for Dr. Wes Olmstead (Dean of Academics at Briercrest College and Seminary) as his administrative assistant. She'll help him with research and keep him organized, as well as assisting the chaplin in planning chapel times. So we're superly excited today! I'll let her write about it. Way to go, Jenn!

High Steaks

Jenn and I have made the move. We're in Caronport now. It's strange to be away from places like D'Anjou and St. Jean Baptiste, and to hear no more French chatter everywhere we go. Wednesday (June 13) we flew back to Regina. It was weird to be back at 3414 as a visitor instead of a housemate -- though I am quite glad to be moving in with my wife. We spent the day doing errand sort of things, and headed over to Jordon and Jill's for the night. Thursday they told us, "You guys feel like chomping down some steaks?" A nice harty steak after so much running around? No reply needed! They were huge, juicy, and homegrown. The best. Steak #1.

Friday we picked up our U-Haul and made our epic trek to Caronport. The move was a smooth one. Cory and Rachel gave us some couches, and set us up with some cleaning supplies and even our first batch of food for supper! (Food is sometimes forgotten in the busyness of moving, so we were estatically grateful.)

We arrived in Caronport in the early afternoon, and found the painters still hard at work in our apartment. We were to live in the building next door, but they had some plumbing problems, and had to move us to 342 instead. Because of the quick move, their painters had some quick work to get done before we could fully move in. (It's not quite done yet, but Doug the Housing Guy said I could do it, and he'll pay me. So that's just fine with me.) Anyways, the painters turned out to be very nice people and ended up inviting us to their home for supper. And what did they serve us? Steak! Big steaks, the size of a dinner plate. That's a lot of beef, and two days in a row! On our way home, Jenn said, "I think that's as much steak as I can handle for a while!"

Our second day in Caronport was our unpacking and make-the-kitchen-and-living-room-look-good day. That's about it. Sunday we slept in due to exhaustion. Sometime in the afternoon, our doorbell rang. A man named Stafford was standing there and invited us over for supper that night. He and his wife Jo are new to Caronport too (they moved here just 3 weeks ago). They saw our U-Haul and thought they'd be hostpitable and invite us over. They ended up being connected to the Alliance Church and to CBC since Jo was a student there two years before I was. So we know some of the same people. Stafford is an accoustic guitar player and pseudo-hockey fan like me, so that was fun too. And what did they serve us? Tenderloin . . . pork. We were secretly afraid of more steak, but pork was an excellent surprise.

So, I think all this meat-eating has cured us for a little while. On our honeymoon in Niagra Falls, we couldn't seem to find an affordable place to eat steak the whole time. And so now we've had our fill.

Go for the Donuts!

During our week in Niagra Falls, we decided to visit the States since we were so close by. We had risen rather late that morning, and were in search of a good place to have breakfast (though it was almost noon!).

I don't know how often you get to experience the wonders of border-crossing, but I'm sure you'd agree it's always a treat. We were kindly greeted by the American border patrol officer as we were crawling up to the stop line. Rather, I guess we missed one of the stop signs, because he came out waving his arms, yelling at us to "STOP!" When it was our turn at the window, the first question he threw at us was, "So, do you know what a stop sign is? Do you know how to read one? Because you missed one right there." Thanks for the warm welcome to your country...

He had all sorts of questions for us. He was kind of puzzled as to why I was from Regina and Jenn was from Quebec. (I'm not used to this whole "we're married now, and so therefore we're from the same place..." thing. I keep telling people Jenn and I are from different provinces... But typically husbands and wives live in the same spot. One of these weeks I'll get it down.) Finally he let us go through.

It was our mission to find a good place to eat. However, Niagra Falls USA had not restaurants, but rather endless streets of boarded up business. The only nice looking buildings were abandoned churches. So we continued on to Buffalo (about a 20 minute drive). Not much else greeted us there. No boarded buildings, but recognizable restaurants were not to be had. After 40 minutes in the city, we chose to turn leave the States and get back for some reliable Canadian cooking. Just before crossing the line, Jenn noticed a Dunkin' Donuts. We violently swerved off the road and into the parking lot. Jenn tried to order her long time favorite coconut "munchkins," but I guess they don't make those anymore...

We did pick some stuff up. They have super cream donuts! But when we tried to pay with Canadian dollars, the worker had no idea what to give back as change. I gave him my debit card instead, explaining that "if you charge us $1.20 US, the bank will do the work, and will charge us like $1.57 CND and there will be no problem at your end." But when I handed him my card, all he said was, "What is that?" I guess they have a different sort of debit in the US. So, out of his confusion (and since our bill was so small), he pushed our little bag toward us and motioned his hands as if to tell us to leave. So, if nothing else, we got some free donuts out of our Buffalo excursion.

If you know where you are going, I'm sure Buffalo is a nice place to visit... Too bad the Sabres didn't get further into this year's playoffs. It could've been fun to take in the excitement.

At any rate, New York, thanks for the donuts.

Reservations About Reservations

The first week of our honeymoon was to be spent in Niagra Falls. We won a prize-package months ago at some lame wedding show giving us two free nights at the Ramada Coral Inn Resort in Niagra Falls, Ontario. We were excited to get there -- Jenn hadn't been to the Falls since she was much younger, and I had never seen them. We arrived at Ramada just after dark. The young man at the desk most cordially informed us that we were late for check in... According to their records, we should have arrived two days earlier... Another snag was actually seeing the room. According to our reservation, we were to have a large non-smoking suite with a hot tub. However, when we made our way up there (thank goodness we didn't lug our luggage), we found the room to be large enough, but the room was filled with the repungemnt odor of smoke. We zipped back down to the desk to tell him we would need a different room. He apologized and sent us on our way to a different room. Again, it was large with a hot tub, but the room smelled as if it had just been used for a smokers-only party. Again we returned to the desk, and repeated this process another four times! I'm not sure if they actually have a list of smoking and non-smoking rooms, but the poor guy got it wrong every time.

Finally, after we had had enough, I explained that the hotel was not suitable and that we would be cancelling our reservation. Fearing some kind of retribution from his boss in the morning, he offered us a discounted regular room. But upon inspection, Jenn found foreign hairs in the bed, and tons of grime everywhere. So we left and told the poor lad we'd be back in the morning to deal with his superiors.

We drove up and down the street in search of another room (it was now approaching midnight). We finally found a good place, a Travelodge with a nice Quebecoise lady working the front desk. She showed us to our room, and it was super! The next morning our travel agent promised to get this all sorted out for us.

So, this is our word of advice --- If ever you find yourself vacationing in Niagra Falls, don't stay at the Ramada Coral Inn Resort. It's filthy! Here's a picture so you don't get fooled:

The rest of our stay at Niagra Falls was great! We found a neat little place very close to the falls, and just out of the way of all the noise. It is the Crystal Inn, as pictured at the top of this entry. It's a wonderful little place. Family owned, huge rooms, $59/night with A/C, a balcony, free movies, and a fridge! This is a shameless plug, to be sure. But we really loved it there. If you ever stay in Niagra Falls, that's the place to go.

It was a rainy dark evening in Old Montreal...

The wedding day passed by without a hitch (except the one resulting in us being married). I don`t think we could have asked for more perfect conditions, or a more smooth, memorable day. We`ll post some pictures and commentary when we get together with our photographer. After the whole shin-dig was done, we made our way to a really nice locally run hotel near Old Montreal. It was a super nice place with amazing service. Very European in style. They noticed we were just married, and so at every turn they were calling to us, "Congratulations!"

Most of the next 30 hours were spent sleeping and recooping after such a busy 4 weeks before the wedding day. When Jenn woke up, she suddenly felt very hungry and felt reasonably confident that if she ate something, her ill-feeling would improve. So, I went down to the desk, got my keys, and we set off for the Old City.

As a side note, it's really very amazing that we received such perfect weather for the day of the wedding. The days before had been excruciatingly hot, and many days afterward were damp and cold. The Saturday itself was 23 C, accompanied by a cool breeze and a sunny sky. We could not have asked for more.

So, just as perfect as the 26th was, the day we made our way to Old Montreal was not. It was dark, and damp, and rainy. One could even hear thunder now and again. We stopped along a street hosting a bunch of eateries and ice cream shoppes. The moment we stopped, Jenn looked at me and confessed, "You know what? I'm really not feeling well... Why don't you go and get something to eat?" I certainly didn't want to go on my own while my new sickly wife sat alone in the car. So we turned around in the rainy street and made our way back to the hotel. We did stop for food -- at McDonald's, and I quickly scarfed two double cheeseburgers -- Jenn ate nothing. Just as we were leaving Old Montreal, Jenn exclaimed, "Luke! I'm going to throw up!" So, widened-eyed and determined, I swerved around pedestrians and made good use of the car's horn. I stopped the car just short of screaching the breaks, and Jenn had just enough time to open the door and aim, and .... well, I'm sure you've done something similar before. I won't describe.

So, on our second day of marriage, we left our mark on Old Montreal's cobblestoned streets... Which greatfully the rain would swiftly wash away.