Protest or Rebellion?

In light of what has occurred recently, I want to set the record straight. It is my stance that Covid-19 is a real thing, is dangerous, is spread through aerosolized droplets expelled with each breath, and is managed mainly through social distancing and mask wearing. In my understanding, Covid-19 vaccinations are a way to speed up the movement toward herd immunity, but with the limitations that have presented with a rise in infections around the globe, especially in countries that are major producers of some vaccine brands, the race toward the light at the end of the tunnel must include actions by each and every individual Canadian.

Fighting this pandemic requires sacrifice.

The very definition of the word acknowledges distaste for the choices.

Nobody likes being asked to stay at home, away from loved ones and friends, wearing a mask whenever away from the home and among others.

Events occurring in cities around Simcoe County have shone a spotlight on the seedy underbelly of life in Covid-19 imposed conditions when 100's of people chose to ignore the doctors, nurses, and researchers who have warned society of the very real threat to life that a Covid-19 infection can cause. Even with the nightly news reports about the rising death toll, filling of hospital ICU's, and potential burnout of frontline health care workers, this rebellion ... let's call it what it truly is ... is fuelled by sheer selfishness, IMHO. At the risk of insulting the intelligence of those who chose to be involved, I feel compelled to call out the magnitude of myopic disregard for others that was at the center of the gathering.

The organizers of what was advertised as protest were in fact promoting a movement, “rooted in conspiracy, pseudo-science and, more prominently, hate.” (source) with one of the main draws Saturday being People’s Party of Canada (PPC) leader Maxime Bernier. “I’m looking right now at what is happening in our country. I’m looking at what happened in communist China and I feel like I am not in Canada anymore,” said Bernier. “I’m a proud Canadian like you and we need to always fight for our freedom, because right now we cannot take our freedom for granted anymore.” Organizer Tyler Nicholson adds, “We do not support any of the mandates, because it’s illegal to force any medical practice on the populace.”

Excuse me?

Mr Bernier and Mr Nicholson are neither trained medical professionals nor health field researchers. I would completely disagree with Bernier's assertion that Canada is in any, way, shape or form similar to China's communist government. How can you argue for freedom when the practice of what you label as freedom poses a very real threat to the health of your fellow Canadians that you say you're proud to be a part of. IMO, no one is forcing a medical practice on anyone else. Quite the opposite, actually, the measures are to save people from invasive medical procedures like intubation for a ventilator, the last stitch effort to save a Covid-19 infected person's life as the virus slowly destroys the CVS. The damage some suffer at the hands of the coronavirus is not open for debate or discussion! It is a well documented fact that protocols, when ignored in the guise of a protest, permit the virus to exercise its genetic programming through advancing the spread, allowing for mutations that enhance both its virility and morbidity. The recent outbreak in India is a crystal clear message to the rest of the planet of the veracity of this virus' mandate with over 300 000 new infections per day ... PER DAY! 

In a recent article by Global News (source), Barrie city council penned an open letter to people who were planning on attending an in-person demonstration to protest the province-wide COVID-19 lockdown. “You are endangering the very people you think you are advocating for by making it unsafe for them to be in a public square,” council said in the letter.

One point I am struggling with is the legal system's reaction to these "protests". When the stay-at-home measures were announced, special attention was granted to enhance the powers of law enforcement to deal with people who choose to ignore the edict, and since the announcement, the nightly news has included a variety of stories about fines being handed out to a wide variety of said people flouting the order. I would ask the question why an angry hoard, hiding behind some archaic and incorrectly interpreted point of law, is permitted without fines being levied. Some of the articles I have included above report that a handful of organizers have received fines, but what about the overwhelming majority? I acknowledge that it places our local constabulary in a tough spot, but they did willing accept the duties of the job when they were hired, including duties that are not pleasant. On a personal level, why can I no longer go for a buddy ride with some of my like-minded cyclists without fear of repercussions while 100's can gather, shoulder to shoulder, sans masks, to voice their displeasure at being inconvenienced ... not oppressed or persecuted ... simply inconvenienced?

I have struggled to understand this Anti-Mask movement. Rather than engage in a war of words, leading inevitably to the definition of madness ... banging your head against a wall ... I have tried to find papers and reports that attempt to shine light on the mentality of those who adopt this stance, with the goal of figuratively walking a mile in their shoes. One such article comes from McGill.ca (source) outlines some interesting points. Most people wear a mask as part of their pandemic-altered routine, unofficially totalling 83% of Canadians by recent estimates, but an unavoidable minority of people who pushback against donning a simple face covering hides many bones of contention. This article goes on to assert political allegiance has some impact asserting it was people who supported the Bloc Québécois, but it is now supporters of the Conservative party who, on average, tend to leave masks behind in larger numbers as time goes on. The author Jonathan Jarry M.Sc. poses the theory that reasons fall into 5 categories:

The first has to do with “medical issues" as justification ... Soundly rebuked by doctors.
The second category relates to people disliking how wearing a mask makes them feel ... Sacrifice?

The third category of anti-mask arguments are based on distorting the science ... Misinformation!
The fourth category surrounds reasoning that personal freedom is paramount ... vs the Greater Good?
The fifth and deepest category is this is all part of a government conspiracy ... Seriously?

One of the greatest rights enshrined in the Canadian Charter is being able to hold an opinion and speak about it openly, without fear of legal reprisal. As with all rights, this comes with the responsibility to refrain from personal attack and hate speech. As such, I offer these thoughts as my own informed opinion and welcome calmly worded oppositional discourse, but like those memes that circulate posing an issue and a challenge to "change my mind", I feel strongly that those supporting these rebellions are selfish, myopic, and self-serving, while dangerously promoting actions that threaten the welfare of fellow citizens.

To be perfectly blunt, this needs to stop ... right now ... forever.

Moving is the easiest part!

Most of those reading this will already be aware that Joyce and I recently sold our home of 30 years and have made plans to relocate to the wonderful city of Guelph. We have embraced the de-clutter process through a systematic series of checks and balances that resemble the hockey-card phase of my youth ... "need 'em, need 'em, "got 'em" ... that is providing for some heart wrenching decisions concerning not WHAT is going, but WHERE it's going.

After 30 years in the same home, we have acquired quite a load of memorabilia, what with both children being Uber active in a variety of activities, the swag and trophies of my 30+ years coaching/teaching, and the amassed treasures of raising a family. Our present place is not that large at just over 1220 square feet (113 square meters), but it has provided us with plenty of room over those years and is now far more than what we need. We understood when we decided to test the real estate waters that selling would require some emotional collaboration as we prepare to downsize our lives, and we agreed to give condo life an honest try, if only for a year at minimum. The condo that we have signed a lease on is almost the exact same square footage as our home at 1200, but we're convinced that it's accomplished with some sort of mirage or smoke and mirrors because there's no way they're the same. Regardless, the de-cluttering is nearing full power right now.

I'm sure that those who really know me, and my love affair with my Nikon, can appreciate that we have loads of photos commemorating all those fantastic years when our kids were navigating their school years, but you may not know that we have actively chosen to compliment those photos with a host of knick knacks that augment the vibe of our family. Lengthy discussions have taken place about what was making the trip, what was going to someone else's home, what was being donated to a charitable cause, and what was destined for the landfill. It really isn't a surprise, but none the less amazing, that what we view as treasure seems to be less so in the eyes of others. Coming to grips with trashing things viewed as perfectly useful is causing serious angst in this guy's chest. I've found a few willing buyers on Kijiji, with other items soon to hit the FREE-jiji list, and the continuous stacking and clearing of items filling our garage feels like a figurative ebb and flow of the tide.

One of the major jobs to free up some space happened on a recent Saturday afternoon when fellow Central Alum Harvey Garraway and I distributed the dozens of pieces of goal posts we saved from Central's Red Storey Field to some giddy-as-a-school-girl adults who shared lengthy trips down their personal Memory Lane while staring wistfully at the chunk of steel in their hand. Thanks to another Central Alum, Dan Eisses, the sizeable lengths of steel fell victim to the carbide teeth of a chop saw, but even after we had created the number of pieces we required, we had a considerable amount of steel remaining. Fortunately, Harvey's son-in-law was more than happy to help us get it to the metal recyclers, and in that process, free up a large area of floor in my garage. We still have a few pieces left that are up for grabs, but it is significantly more manageable. 

Speaking of Barrie Central, anyone reading this who either went there or was a parent of someone that went there, will be all too familiar with the oft used sentiment that, "it's all about kit" which has resulted in decades of Central swag infesting my closet. Despite the tug at my heart-strings, I have whittled down the pile to a bare-bones handful of items that check the boxes of (a) still fitting now that I'm a smaller version of my former bulk, and (b) representing the most poignant and treasured mementos of dozens of championships in multiple activities. I have sent out the message that a boatload of swag is up for grabs (reach out to me via whichever Social Media platform you read this on), and I'm praying that I can rescue the bulk of it from being donated. I'm open for any other ideas, if you have them.

Loads of friends have been quick to offer advice about the moving process. Having been in the same starter home that we purchased 30 years ago, any advice is welcomed, evaluated and implemented if deemed worthy, but I can foresee a point where a locker rental might be in our future because we will inhabit someone else's space for at least a year, limiting how much will find a place on its walls, and the potential to store some of our life's haul is a distinct possibility. The good news is that we have leased a 2 bedroom condo and the 2nd room is a decent size, offering plenty of floor space to store the boxes that may not get opened once we are there full time, but when you lose both a garage and basement, some of the bigger items pose a challenge. Who doesn't love a good challenge, eh?

In the end, it has become all to painfully evident that the act of physically moving will be the least of our concerns, but using an old sports adage, "It's all in the preparation!"

Remembering Merle

My mother's sister, Merle Janet Dean (Keachie), is 3 years older than her, so I cannot remember a time when she was not a part of my life. When my family moved to Barrie from Toronto, buying a side-split on Varden Cr and I became a Johnson Street PS Spitfire, my Aunt Merle and Uncle Peter were already here, so our two families shared the year's annual celebrations together. IMHO, my Nana and Papa did a great job of raising two very different girls in my mom and my aunt, but their core values were more than similar and I vividly recall having a very deep appreciation for my Aunt Merle. Her recent passing was a blessing, considering the ravages of dementia, but it still leaves a significant hole in my soul.

My Nana, Papa, aunt and mom grew up in Toronto, with both girls attending East York Collegiate. I have very fond memories of my grandparent's home on Parkdale Rd, but it always seemed that when the extended family got together, it was in Barrie at my aunt's home on Berzy St or our home, first on Varden, then on Sunnidale. Merle and Peter had my 3 cousins starting their family just prior to my mom and dad with the oldest of the 7 being my cousin Warren who was born in 1962. I came next in '63, then my cousin Bryan in '64, my cousin Margot in '66, my brother Dave in '67, and my brothers Rob and Mike rounding out the horde in '69 and '71. This meant that for my entire younger life, I regularly shared the thrills of childhood with my 3 cousins and 3 brothers, often amid a host of special trips adorned in matching t-shirts so our moms could easily keep track of us because the dads were busy working. Most of you know my father was an Orthopedic surgeon, but you may not know that my Uncle Peter was a dentist. Whether it was summers at Wasaga Beach, trips to Toronto Island, days spent in the pool on Sunnidale, or escapades in the large number of parks of Simcoe County, we 7 kept my mom and aunt very, very busy.

I have boatloads of images stored deep in the crevices of my neural tissue that include the laughter and joy shared with my cousins as we circumvented our younger years under the watchful eyes of my mother and aunt. In all of those memories, I can still see Merle's smiling, loving face as they managed the inevitable squabbles of 7 kids under 10. My poor cousin Margot was adrift in a sea of boyish testosterone and bore the brunt of the roughhousing of 6 exuberant boys, but looking back now, I would venture that adequately prepared her for the life she now shares with her beau Tim Burtch and his regular antics. Through all of that, the only negative memories I have of my aunt was her choice to serve squash at Christmas dinner much to the dismay of my adolescent taste buds ... a personal first world problem, I admit.

My Aunt Merle was a very loving person, but she was also blessed with a sarcastic wit, and upon delivering a choice barb at your expense, she'd have a glint in her eye that shone brighter than a star. From where I stood, she loved being a mom, even if it meant dealing with the 4 Porter warts, and I truly felt blessed to have such a close family. I can vividly recall how much her eventual divorce from my uncle showed on her face, and even though she still smiled widely around us, I know now that it was a tough time for her. 

It was around this time that my aunt embraced the comfort of the church. Both our families had raised their children by including a religious component, the Deans attending Collier United, the Porters Central United, but Merle found greater comfort in the community church called Bethel, and it became a major force in her life. As we grew out of our adolescence, I have memories of conversations I was apart of, or over heard, where Merle would be talking about her church life and I recognized that familiar sparkle in her eye I had seen in my younger years. Hers was a very strong sense of faith, and judging by the number of people who reached out to me after seeing her passing, she touched a lot of people's hearts.

As the years passed, and the inevitable consequence of age took hold, the 7 brats matured into quite the handsome lot ... if I do say so myself ... discovered their significant others, and fled the safety of the childhood nests. We didn't gather communally as often as those early years, but still managed a couple of special events, despite our swollen ranks of 24 bodies. Most of those later gatherings were at our place on Sunnidale, partly because of the space our home provided plus the pool, but also because Merle's place on Penetang was not large enough to accommodate our horde. 

The ravages of time spare no one. For some it manifests as diminishing physical abilities, while others find their mental competence impaired ... or both, unfortunately. It was a source of profound angst that Merle's sparkling eyes slowly faded in her final years, compromised by the effects of dementia. Sadly, this retched pandemic stole her family's ability to regularly comfort her in the those last days, hours and minutes, but despite her declining condition, I cling to the hope that her affliction also spared her the heartache of missing her loved ones. My last personal memory of Merle will be of the day that my mom, Joyce and I took Merle's FAV meal of Swiss Chalet into Victoria Village and we shared a meal on the patio in the sunshine. Merle loved Swiss Chalet's chicken, but their fries stood no chance what-so-ever as she devoured more than her fair share with a memorable grin.

I will certainly miss Merle. They say all we are is imprinted during our years from age 8 to 10, so I am forever grateful to my mother and aunt for making those years as rich, fulfilling, and happy as any young person could wish for. We really are together in this game called life, a fact that was reinforced when I posted on Facebook about her passing, and a host of friends and acquaintances shared that their lives had also been touched by my aunt's good graces, expressing they too would miss her presence. 

Sadly, with Merle's passing, the Keeper of Memories for the Parkdale Keachies will fall on my mother. I can see the hurt behind her eyes, both from losing her sister, but also from not being able to comfort her in that final part of her life due to the restrictions in place at Victoria Village. It's inevitable that someone remains the last light, but that doesn't make it an easy thing to endure.

I take solace in the fact that Merle is exactly where she wishes to be after so patiently, carefully and completely giving her life to Jesus. I will choose to "see" her as smiling widely as possible, a look of extreme contentment in her eyes, the love she so regularly showered on those around her emanating from her like the glow of a million candles. 

I'd say God Bless you Merle, but I strongly suspect that he already has.
Rest in Peace.
You've earned it.

What the EFF is happening?

Facebook is many things, and I'd likely to publicly state that while not all of those things are bad, it can be a source of some pretty unsettling news at times. I recently read the FB post of an education friend whose son experienced a frustrating, infuriating, and demoralizing happenstance when he was informed, through a group Zoom no less, that his position as a tenured professor at an Ontario university was over after 17 years, thanks to the mismanagement of the university's finances over a sustained length of time. To add insult to injury, he was told that there would be no severance and there was no information about the status of his pension. 

I can't speak for you but reading that made my blood boil!

I can recall hearing on the local CTV Barrie news a couple of months back that Laurentian University was filing for creditor protection, "... amid “unprecedented” financial challenges" according to a National Post (CLICK) article on Feb 1st, 2021. In the article, Laurentian's President indicated that financial problems stemming from issues like declining population, recurring deficits, and the closure of the partnership campus on Barrie's Georgian College has left the university insolvent. NDP critics issued a joint statement criticizing the Ford government for failing to step in and provide more help for the school.

In a more recent article, cp24.com (CLICK ) reported that Laurentian will close 58 undergraduate programs (34 English and 24 French). Cutting programs that have had “historically low enrolment” will allow the University to restructure in hopes of a financially sustainable future. This restructuring means that more than 80 faculty could end up having their tenured professorial positions cease to exist. The article references 10% of undergrads and 44 graduate students will be impacted by program closures.

These cuts were the final blow for my friend's son. Over the 17 years he has been involved with Laurentian, he was the Chair of Political Science in both Sudbury and Barrie, also serving as Dean in Barrie. His Masters was from the London School of Economics, his doctorate from the University of Maryland, he has presented papers at numerous international conferences, has authored numerous papers and books, and even served as Scholar in Residence in Wales. To have a person so devoutly dedicated to education treated in this manner is horrifying, infuriating and despicable.

To quote my friend, "This is a huge red flag to anyone involved in any level of education or that care there are dedicated people devoted to the value of an educated society. Our provincial government does not share this sentiment." 

In an article on the NorthernOntario.CTVnews.ca site (CLICK), women and gender studies professor chair Jen Johnson remarked, "My reaction to the events of today is that the provincial government could have stepped in a lot earlier both to prevent and moderate what was happening at Laurentian University," Johnson's lament echos my own disgust at the lack of responsibility shown by multiple governments over the past few years as they let obvious mismanagement and incompetence run rampant in the head offices of the university. The provincial government has a Minister of Colleges and Universities, a position presently held by Ross Romano, MPP from Sault Ste. Marie, and the article insinuates that Romano has been conspicuously absent from the conversations following the fall out. "The government could have easily avoided this crisis, but even now, the government is not doing anything. Where is Ross Romano? I really want to know that. Ross Romano is in hiding. He's not talking to us," said OCUFA (Ontario Confederation of University Faculties Association) President Rahul Sapra, from Toronto.

In a related article from cbc.ca (CLICK), the OCUFA remarks, "Romano and the Ford government knew about the depths of Laurentian's financial difficulties for months, if not years. They had numerous opportunities to take action to avert this crisis. Instead, they chose to do nothing and betrayed the trust of Ontarians."

Here's how I see all of this ... I am never a fan of any level of government stretching an olive branch to save a company from itself because of poor management since it is yours and my tax dollars that are being used to shore up their incompetence. Further to that point, when the government includes a "watch dog" arm whose mandate is to oversee the management of all colleges and universities and doesn't become involved when there's blatant issues, it leaves me fuming that even more of my tax dollars are being wasted, padding the pockets of a few. Having said that, when something as valuable as a university like Laurentian requires intervention, and in the process saving innumerable programs vital to the northern regions of the province, it behooves all Ontarians to stand up for the fight to rescue it. Admittedly bias about education, this is not something we can simply shrug off as a 'fact of life" moment, and all efforts should be mobilized to rectify the issues, starting with an investigation into the parties responsible, the faulty management decisions, and the replacement of the governing personnel. 

It is a sad and frustrating day ... on top of everything else that is transpiring in our province.

My heart goes out to all of the people directly impacted by this, but most of all, to my friend's son. Someone that bright and accomplished will land on his feet, but it is a yet another slap in the face of education thanks to Ford and his Conservative cronies.

Shame on them!

The Saga of the Sale P2

This is part 2 of 2 for the Saga of the Sale, and I'm sitting here in my rocker, staring at the laptop screen, recounting the days, and feeling the need to pinch myself to ensure I'm not dreaming. The stats on the Saga include 2.5 days on the market, 17 showings, 3 early unconditional offers, signing the final deal at 8% over asking, scrambling to find a new place to go, and singing the lease for a change the scenery for 12 months at the minimum starting June 2021.

WHEW!

When we decided to list the house, Tomas (our realtor, if you didn't recall) advised setting an offer deadline that was 5 days after the house was listed. Having never participated in the sale of a home, we were complete "Newbs" and readily agreed to follow his advice. I will tell you that the showing process was not my favourite experience because (a) you have to stage the home the way the pro's wish ... think severely Spartan, (b) you have to maintain a constant state of cleanliness ... not a huge problem for us but annoying for sure, (c) you have to find things to do during the time that complete strangers roam your hallways, and (d) thanks to Covid-19, we had to cleanse the house afterward, just to be prudent. We had 17 showings from 12:00 noon on Apr 7 to 3:30 pm on Apr 9.

As it turns out, the deadline for offers was a line in the sand, and Tomas informed us that one offer had come in early with a 24 hour detonation, was unconditional, and was over asking. We had to agree to entertain the early offer, which we did, meaning that Tomas had to contact all of the realtors who had shown the house and let them know about the changed deadline. By the time the dust settled, we were at Tomas' office looking to make a decision on 3 solid offers, all unconditional and all over asking. In the end, the one that started the whole shebang was the best for a lot of reasons, and the dirty deed was done! 

We were officially homeless as of the end of June!
Wait! Whaaaa?

The cure the homelessness condition meant a search for a new place to lay our heads. I've told you before that there was much discussion of what that would look like, and there were a number of choices on the table, but that the top of the list was the greater Guelph area. I have a number of friends that I have made through education and coaching that live in Guelph and I've always really liked the feel of the city when visiting our son Keaton, who's lived there for 5 years now. I guess that I can be convincing because Joyce agreed that she'd give it the Ol' College Try for a year, so we pointed the truck southwest and spent a day looking at the variety of condo-rental offerings Guelph contained. If you haven't been there, the south end of Guelph has changed immensely over the past 10 years, in what I would guess is a response to the crazy markets of the GTA, driving people westward (in this case) to find affordability that was also easily accessible. There are condo complexes everywhere in the south end!

The Gran-daddy of all real estate web sites is Realtor.ca, if you didn't know that already, but it is not well utilized for rental searches, so we were encouraged by Tomas to give Kijiji a try. With some patience, persistence, and a little petulance, we discovered a shining beacon that went by the name of Sarah. It turned out that she was a teacher CHECK, was offering an oversized condo CHECK, was in the very southern tip of Guelph facing agricultural land CHECK, and was agreeable to a beginning of June possession CHECK! We should have purchased a Lotto ticket with a luck being this good!

Which leads me back to my opening paragraph ... sitting in the rocker, laptop in place, staring at the screen, recounting the events of a very busy 2 weeks. Yep, you read that correctly, from start to finish we have set in motion a significant change in our lives. The only difficult part now is the weeks still left before the move actually happens and we are living in increasingly sparse surroundings as we sift and sort through 30 years of collected memorabilia, deciding which gets donated, which gets tossed and which is making the move.

As the poet Bob Dylan crooned, "... the times they are a changin'!"

I BONK'd for the 1st time!

Even though I've been circumventing the various roadways that surround Barrie for nigh unto a full year, that doesn't mean that I am a true cyclist. I am living the #bikelife and it is most assuredly a passion, but there's still a whole lot I have left to learn, and recently I was introduced with a big fat slap upside my head to the cycling concept of BONK'ing ... riding oneself into a state that dictates a full-on rest because the body is in full rebellion mode from the depletion of glycogen (sugar) stores in the liver and muscles.

To understand the whole situation, you have to know some details:
Firstly, we just wrapped up the whirlwind of confusion that was the sale of our home for the past 30 years.
Secondly, Ma Nature had indeed been most kind of late, offering a host of enticingly gorgeous bike-friendly weather days whose magnetic pull to the great outsides was irresistible.
Lastly, after spending much of the snow-covered Canadian months indoors spinning away on a trainer, my fitness levels fortified me with a false sense of competency, directly leading to said BONK'ing.

With sun shining brightly, I mounted my new steed ... a gravel grinding Argon18 Dark Matter ... and set out in an easterly direction on the Simcoe Rail Loop pathway, bound for my planned turn around in Victoria Harbour. I've experienced a healthy number of rides in and around Simcoe County, but until I acquired the Dark Matter, the Rail Loop was not a choice, my Ridley road bike unable to handle to demands of the Rail Loop.

The first portion of the Loop from Barrie to Orillia was as pleasant as you'd like with moderately little wind issues and only the occasional other cyclist or walker. Making my way through Orillia and out the other side, I merged onto the Uhthoff Trail on my way to Coldwater. The Loop has definitely suffered some spring time complications with a few very boggy sections that immediately notified me that I had some learning still to do when it came to grinding gravel. Despite the soggy sections, I felt good about maintaining a quality cadence and pace all the way to Coldwater, meaning a quick stop into Em's Cafe for a coffee was in order. I was a little surprised that I had traversed the 60 or so km's in just over 2 hours ... an almost 30 kph clip! Had I been even remotely intelligent I would have realized that pace was unsustainable. 

After satisfying my java jones, I set out Northwesterly from Coldwater continuing on the Rail Loop, only to find that I had neglected to charge my head unit (bike computer) the night before and it ran out of juice. Not to be out done, I fired up the Strava app on my iPhone and continued to absolutely enjoy the ride. I should have realized that this was not a good omen.

Just on the outskirts of Waubashene, I encountered my biking buddy Hardy Wind, his wife Cindy and their friend Andrew as the trio were of a similar mindset and enjoying the paved portion of the Rail Loop that runs from Waubashene to Penetang. When I shared with Hardy my plans to ride from Barrie to Victoria Harbour then southward back to Barrie, his eyes grew wide in wonder, and he offered his admiration of my intentions. That should have been the warning that I needed to re-think my plan, but my hubris got the better of me and I wasn't swayed.

Continuing to push westward following our brief visit, I arrived in Victoria Harbour, decided to have a brief respite to take on some nutrition and water. After a short-lived mini-tour of the village, thanks to having little idea of where I was heading, I located the road I needed and pointed southward. By now, the sun shone almost directly overhead, the temperature has reached its forecasted max, and the hills of Oro Medonte came into play after over 3.5 hours in the saddle. I'm not at all convinced that I might have managed the situation better had my trusty head unit been front and center of my attention rather than on my phone in my back pouch, securely hidden from my view, but it certainly didn't help. 

As the hills became more of an issue, and I came close to the bottom of my water bottle, I noticed that the punch in my legs had waned significantly, and the struggles ascending the rolling hills was taking it's toll. By the time I pigheadedly relented and pulled over on the shoulder to end my suffering with some in-ride nutrition of dried fruit, nuts and cookie, it was likely already past the point of no return because my breakfast had long been burned for fuel, likely back around Coldwater. I had to sit right down in the culvert and felt as low energy as I have ever felt previously ... it was officially my first BONK'ing. Checking my progress during the stop, it became apparent that what I had thought would be a 4 hour ride total was already past 4.5 hours and I had a fair way left to go to return home. Thankfully, the snack was having the desired effect on my blood sugar and I was soon able get back in the saddle with hopes of making the journey in decent time, but a pressing issue was the nearly completed water level of my bottle. 

In these Covid times, I am sure I was a startling presence as I rolled up to the little business and asked the young man out front of his shop if he would be so kind to refill my bottle. In is a testament to the quality of person he was that he smiled widely before remarking, "You sure look like you could use some help. One second and I'll top that up for you." A heartfelt and sincere thank you and I was off again, the cold water a welcomed respite to my parched lips.

The remainder of the journey seemed to last forever as I rolled up and down the hills of Oro making my way around the Copeland Forest, past Horseshoe Valley, and through Churchill before one last climb up the hill leading to Barrie along highway 93. Arriving at home, I was greeted by the not-so-impressed look on my wife's face as she shared her disbelief at how much of an idiot she had married. Who was I to argue with her? What I thought was a challenging 4 hour ride turned out to be a ridiculous almost 6 hours and a whopping 130 km's. 

The saying goes that what doesn't kill you makes you stronger. While that has certainly been my mantra throughout my athletic career, I'm now fairly certain that this saying emanated from BONK'ing. It wasn't a lot of fun IN IT, but I felt a sense of accomplishment having SURVIVED IT.

Besides, my cramping hamstrings later that night served as reminder of my perviously unseen levels of stupidity. Oh well, chalk it up to another quality cycling experience.

The Saga of the Sale

I already let the proverbial cat out of the bag that we have decided to take a chance on a red hot seller's market in Barrie. It will also come as no surprise that to anyone who has paid attention to the zaniness of the Barrie area real estate that some really incredulous stuff has been happening. Not only are the list prices WAY above what would have been a scant 2 years ago, but some head shaking bidding wars have materialized, fuelled by boat loads of money making its way northward out of the GTA.

THIS is why we chose to test the waters.

We met with our agent, BCC alumnus Tomas Sample (Century21 in Barrie) on March 30th and decided to purge 30 years worth of crap, had a professional photographer make the house look like someone else lived there, and went live on Wed April 7th. Having never been through this process before, it was all a new to us, but we weren't remotely prepared for the Spartan surroundings we would be inflicting upon ourselves, and the nomadic existence we'd endure during the multiple blocks of showings. On the plus side, we enjoyed a number of quaint picnics on Barrie's beautiful waterfront while enjoying the tremendous weather this recent stretch has blessed us with. 

At the time of this writing, we had 15 showing appointments stretching Apr 7th through 10th, with offers being accepted up until noon on the 12th. Apparently this was good, or so we were being assured, and Tomas was very upbeat and positive ... even more so than normal ... you'd have to know him to understand. 

Now, all was not well in OZ (or some other quaint saying in the same vein) because we've added some new gems to our ever adapting Personal Pet Peeve list. Our full list is extensive, being the true Curmudgeons we are, (you can read about some in other posts like "Call me Joe Cool", "Think like a HOG", or "Adventures in the Hinterland"), but at the risk of tarnishing your opinion of us, we'll only include the latest additions that have to do with the house selling process:

1) The showings are Covid-friendly, and we've provided sanitizer and wipes for people to use. We understand that it's weird times to be physically entering another person's space, but we're thoroughly cleaning and sanitizing as much as possible between showings. Our new Pet Peeve surrounds viewers who bring a coffee with them while touring our home since, to us, it's obvious that masks lowered for sipping said beverage and exposing everyone involved to potential transmission is completely offside. 

2) The showings have been requested to be no longer than 30 min, as per the Covid parameters. We totally understand that "stuff" happens, and are fine with accommodating an extra 15 min, but when you're inside our home for 30-40 min past while we wait in our truck across the street, we're not at all impressed. 

3) We empathize with those visiting our home feeling nervous about touring in socked feet (or worse, bare feet ... who does that?), but if you feel you must wear shoes, have the decency to ensure they are clean as possible so we are greeted by piles of sand and soil on our return.

4) We get that, for many, when Nature calls immediate action is required, but we were completely grossed out when we discovered that someone on a showing had used the bathroom, especially considering these times. You might feel differently, but this is OUR Pet Peeves, not yours.

And those are after only a few showings!

The good news is that the process is relatively short in a market like this, and true to expectations, the offers and decisions emerged in a whirlwind, causing bewilderment, disbelief and just a hint of anxiety, if I'm honest. What was forecasted to be a short happenstance has now (potentially) become even more condensed. 

Who knows how it will look when the dust settles? Like the old 60's Batman series ... Don't touch that dial! Tune in next week ... Same Bat time, same Bat channel.

To change is to chance!

Situations and events often present themselves to us proving the old adage that change is inevitable, and unlike death and taxes whose presence never changes, that notion becomes more true with each passing year. While most can handle some change, riding out the waves on some figurative surfboard, there will always be times on our lives where the tsunamis of change threaten to overwhelm our comfort levels. 

When the tsunami is of our own choosing?
Well, we really can't complain all that much.
Joyce and I created a whopper!

A few weeks ago, I was in doing a supply job and struck up a conversation with a colleague who was looking at realtor.ca for available properties in Barrie, and having enjoyed the splendor of his castle on a number of pre-pandemic social occasions, I queried him about his quest. His reply typified parental concerns these days surrounding the likelihood of children ever owning a home of their own with the market the way it has become, and his desire to help his own kids afford entry into the market. Our conversation got me thinking about my own children, and although Maddi and Chris already owned a beautiful place in Angus, Keaton was not yet in a position to be the same.

Fast forward a couple of weeks and I was having a porch to porch conversation with my young neighbour about a variety of home ownership things when he asked if I had seen that the house up the street had listed for $569 K. I was flabbergasted because I could picture in my mind's eye the exact house he was referring to, and I struggled to understand how that list price was even possible, excluding gilded gold fixtures or something similarly crazy. My neighbour remarked that the market in Barrie was "going nuts", prompting a story about the variety of ridiculous scenarios happening across the city.

Joyce reacted the same way as I did ... dumbstruck and bewildered.

The result of both conversations was a call to a former Central student, Tomas Sample, who was now a successful realtor in Barrie with Century 21. I explained to Tomas what I had heard and asked if he could find a time to come visit us, in the hopes that he could confirm or debunk what I had heard. That conversation led to a whirlwind of activity in preparation for us listing our home to explore the possibilities. 

Truth be told, we've never sold a house before.

We have created a life that is not necessarily the norm. We purchased our home, got married, had kids, experienced that trials and tribulations of raising them, then retired, all while still under the same roof during those 30 years. With both kids being so involved in a variety of activities, and being a single income family ... albeit a choice on our part ... the thought of adding a move into the mix of hard decisions never entered our minds. We had discussed the possibility of moving at some point once we settled into retirement because, despite the fact that our little home was our first and only, it had become much more house than we really needed. Discussions during our regular walks in and around Simcoe County did not mean that we were ready to push the button, but at least we were in agreement that it would eventually happen. It was Tomas' advice on the list price that spurred us to consider it right now. 

Let the purging begin! 30 years of accumulated stuff  has to be touched, sorted and decided on!

I'm penning this post, sitting in my trusty recliner, laptop in its place, stealing the occasional bewildered glance at the Spartan appearance of our once-lovely home, the curios and knick-knacks long since packed away in an effort to increase marketability. While we were pleased to hear the experts tell us that we had very little to fix or upgrade in preparation, the sheer volume of decluttering and downsizing effort left us both feeling anxious. If the process follows the trends of late, the end is not that far off in the future, but we have steeled ourselves to think long and deep before signing on the dotted line. We were in agreement that it had to feel like the right thing to do since we could just as easily walk away from the sale.

Of course, the next tense part was deciding both where to go and what to search for. 

When the discussions of where we might choose to relocate following retirement began, oh so many months ago, and we had bantered about possibilities like Canada's east coast, Kingston, Guelph, and for a fleeting moment, the southwest of Ontario. Now that the actual end is nigh, anything over a two hour commute has been taken off the table, thanks largely to the pending nuptials of Maddi + Chris this coming fall and their high probability of parenthood. SuperMom will trade in her cape for a SuperNana version, meaning that the distance had to be manageable. Some of the possibilities further away were not NEVERs, but they were definitely NOT NOWs. I'll share with you that the top of the list right now is the greater Guelph area, for a host of reasons that will likely be the source for a future post.

To RENT or PURCHASE, that is the question! Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous rents or to take arms against the murky waters of mortgages!
(*My apologies to Shakespeare)

Much of that decision will be buffered by the success of the selling process, with it's potential for a sale over asking, however incredulous that may seem at this moment, but it is very likely that we will choose to rent so that we (a) can spend some considerable time looking for what fits us best and (b) can subsidize any rental costs by investing the sum in the short term. What will ACTUALLY happen is still up in the air, leaving a pang of discomfort in both our chests ... we're both type A personalities, through and through, and unaccustomed to open ended decisions.

The game is afoot!
Stay tuned for the continuing saga!