It was inevitable!

As I gather my thoughts for this piece, I am distracted by the cacophony of colour outside my window, nature's paintbrush seemingly more brilliant this fall than previous memory, and I find myself mentally retracing the events of the past few days with mild curiousity, some of it not really adding up. The good news is that Joyce and I survived the inevitable Covid-19 infection with relatively few dire consequences or repercussions. The bad news is that it happened at all.

As background, we both felt strongly that the vaccination argument held true so we willingly accepted the "jab" as often as the Ministry would allow for, Joyce's birthday allowing her to sneak in a 4th shot ahead of the government's cave-in to public pressure that allowed "young'ins" like me to get theirs. Having a somewhat thorough education in the sciences, I felt competent in understanding the mechanism behind vaccinations and how it would provide us with an immunity to severe Covid implications. Having said that, we also felt strongly that we should do all we could to decrease exposure since our nuclear family included a host of diabetics, an octogenarian, a nonagenarian, and an active cancer battle. Conscientious use of quality masks, fastidious personal hygiene, and avoidance of super-spreader events were the daily norm. 

The aforementioned inevitable collision occurred because we let our guard down after seeing so many others returning to "normal" activities, so when we found ourselves out and about with errands that required a trip to Barrie, we shrugged off our paranoia with indoor dining room settings for a treat of quality cooking from The Mexican House in the city's south end by rationalizing that we were the only patrons in the entire place. Of course, as you might have guessed, that soon changed and despite our tentative natures, we continued to enjoy a most delicious meal (you REALLY should try this place if you're a fan of Mexican). As time ebbed on with neither of us feeling even a trace of Covid-like symptoms, we surmised that we "dodged the proverbial bullet".

Bolstered by this minor success, I chose to accept an invitation to join some friends in an adult beverage at a local Barrie watering hole in celebration of some recent success, yet while the libations and snacks were most enjoyable, the arrival of a sore throat, drippy nose and dry cough a couple of days later were concrete proof that I had made a poor choice after all. You can likely guess that if I had symptoms, I was actively sharing my demise with Joyce, and she should expect her own battle soon enough.

I was feeling ashamed when I contacted my Simcoe Cycling friends with the news of my carelessness since I had spent the day before traversing gravel trails throughout Simcoe with them, but as the days proceeded, I was relieved to learn that no one had received a large enough dose from me to fall victim.

On this Heavenly Birthday of my D.O.D., I'm reminded that one of the many benefits of being my father's son was the immune system of steel that resulted from the constant exposure to a wide variety of maladies he would bring home from his daily battles in Royal Victoria Hospital. It's the only explanation I have for the fact that my mother, 3 brothers, and I rarely get ill, and when we do, it's short and quick. With this in mind, you can imagine that my Covid experience was more of the same, and I turned the corner in scant days, beset by relatively minor complications.

My wife Joyce didn't grow up with me.

When Joyce's infection finally surfaced, it blew in like a hurricane, knocking off her feet for a few days, inflicting her with triple the force of symptoms, and a nagging hack that has hung around for an annoyingly long stretch. 

Which leads me to the latest instalment of Porter's Peeves!

With Joyce's symptoms waning at a glacial pace, the inevitable loss of quality sleep began to weigh heavily on her mood, and we agreed that she needed assistance from the local pharmacist to endure. Being on a fixed income, I decided to save a few shekels by shopping at Walmart for the magic elixirs, and was only slightly put off by the lengthy lines at the checkouts. It slowly dawned on me that the reason the lines were ridiculous was due to only 2 being staffed and literal dozens of self-checkouts relatively barren. Normally, I am not shy in my criticism of conglomerates like Walmart's trend toward cutting the chaff by having us give them not only our money, but our energy and time as well, and I avoid self-checkouts like the plague. Alas, today I was in a hurry so I chose the cursed choice. As I was preparing to leave the area, I was stopped by an employee emphatically fulfilling the role of Gandalf the Grey with her grandiose, "You shall not pass" insistence on scouring my chit in what I could only guess was a contemptuous attempt to ensure I had paid for all I had. She obviously took the role seriously, comparing the bill with the few items in my hands with fervour before begrudgingly "allowing" me access to the exit. 

Seriously?

It's not enough that we have to pay exorbitant amounts for goods that have risen double digit percentages in the past few months, nor that we are herded into self-checkout lines like so many cattle awaiting the heavy hammer, but now we are treated like "guilty before proven innocent" criminals to ensure that Uncle Sam Walton's family continues to enjoy billions in profits. 

Enjoy it Walmart ... you won't enjoy my money for quite a while.

The good news is that despite all of this, Joyce and I are regaining our health and back to almost normal.

The list!

My apologies for not writing for such a lengthy period. No excuses, simply allowed my self to get gosh-darned busy with cycling, supply teaching, and refereeing over the last couple of weeks. With Thanksgiving upon us, I felt the urge to list a few things that I'm thankful for here in 2022.

The obvious choice is my extended family. 

I'm Uber thankful for my wife, Joyce ... she is my rock, my bestie, my primo persona, my everything. She keeps me grounded, humble, happy and grateful that she finds my company desirable. Besides which, she's one "Hot Mama" and I fall deeper in love with each passing day. For those that know me, you will be empathetic to her plight, my quirks and quarks are a challenge at the best of times.

I'm grateful for mom's and my MIL's continued happiness, good health and faculties. These are scary times for seniors, and I'm forever grateful that they both have escaped hindering complications, even though my mom recently shared that she has tested positive. She's not sure where she became exposed, but she's on the backside of it and didn't require help beyond some much-needed rest.

I'm thankful for my children's continued successes, health and happiness. I cannot begin to adequately express how pleased both Joyce and I are that our children have found their path in life, found partners who complete them sufficiently to foster the happiness of sharing a life together, and have embraced that ideals we so painstakingly strove to teach them as their were growing up. They both will never know the depth of pride we feel until they themselves embark on the journey of offspring, something that both Joyce and I are eager for them to experience because we've embraced our readiness to become Nana and Papa. 

Ha Ha Ha!

I'm grateful for all of my brothers, but at this time, especially grateful that my brother Rob has such a stellar team of health professionals assisting him through his trials. It is a source of great anguish to see him struggle through the rigours of his treatments, but his "no quit" attitude shines brightly through the dogged determination to beat his affliction. 

UPDATE: I'm sincerely sorry to have not included Gary and Ruth Foster, my BIL/SIL, in my original post. I'm thankful that they continue to do well, despite some health obstacles in the past, and that they were able to be with my MIL on Thanksgiving after I tested positive. They are great people and Joyce and I wish we could be with them more often, but the distance between us is significant and makes that difficult.

I'm grateful for the plethora of friends and acquaintances I have garnered along the Path of Life because they provide me with fellowship, connection, and support. Most have come through associations fostered through my passions of athletics or education, but they will never completely understand how much they mean to my overall happiness. Of course, near and dear to my heart are my relatively new cycling friends as they so willingly accepted this "Newb" into their fold, sharing their knowledge and experience willingly and generously.

Lastly, and certainly not leastly, I'm grateful to my father who inadvertantly brought home a cornucopia of infections each night when he returned home from his work at Royal Victoria Hospital "stamping our the seeds of disease". His enduring legacy, thanks to continued exposure creating immune systems of steel, culminated in the fact that my family rarely falls ill, and it takes something significant to knock us off our feet. This was never truer than this morning when my rapid antigen test indicated that my cold symptoms were actually a wretched Covid-19 variant had finally found me after all this time. Other than a drippy nose, and constantly clearing my throat, I've escaped significant complications. 

I find Social Media a bit much at times, mostly because of the negativity and vindictiveness, my primary focus of using it being the connections that can be maintained across great distances, but the flood of well wishes that have decorated the pages of Facebook and Instagram this weekend gives me those "warm fuzzies". I wish all of my connections health, happiness and peace.

We all have a list of things to be thankful for.

Let's make sure everyone on that list gets told.

Well, THAT was interesting!

Whenever I share a chat with a friend or an acquaintance about how things are going in retirement and the conversation steers toward my choice of being an active supply teacher, I get some raised eyebrows, sheepish grins, and curious head-tilts. The reality is that, while a high percentage of people are moderately curious with my choice to return to the classroom, I truly enjoy the interaction with young people through my facilitation of knowledge/skill seeking. Since my retirement in January of 2020 proceeded the pandemic-imposed conditions of the education system, my entire supply teaching experience until this school year was skewed by Barrie North, and despite thoroughly enjoying my time spent there, I recently shared the teenage-infused chaos of the House System at Elmvale DHS. To say that I had the veil lifted might be too profound, but I absolutely learned a thing or three about school-life in a smaller community school.

Think Harry Potter's Hogwarts through a rural Ontario, small town lens.

In the event that you've never experienced a House System like EDHS and its full-on, school wide, volume infused spirit-fest version, you likely wouldn't believe that today's teen would embrace conscription into radicalized expression of spirit like the scenes my old eyes witnessed recently on this day's supply duty. I can tell you that while I might have been a naysayer too, prior to the day, but I come away with a whole new understanding of EDHS's infamous school spirit. Since my supply duties included Gr 9 classes, I was asked to supervise the opening indoctrination, the chilly walk to Elmvale's Heritage Park, the wide assortment of GLO competitions, and the wrap up assembly. What my pictures and videos won't do is give you a true sense of both the bedlam and intensity of the event. 

To say that the Gr 12 leaders "drink the Koolaid" is the understatement of the year! 

The entire school ... students and teachers ... are divided into four houses represented by both colour and title, complete with a wide variety of house-specific creative cheers. The goal, from the uninitiated view, was to overpower the other houses with both enthusiasm and volume, all in a quest for the much sought after house points that would accumulate throughout the year, and eventually crown the winning house. 

It was certainly an eye-opener! 

The ear-splitting volume of the house cheers was enough to send sensitive folk scrambling for ear plugs, the strained vocal cords of the leaders crackling under the days exertion, but there was absolutely no lack of enthusiasm! 

I would estimate that over half of the staff were actively supporting their house, as well. 

The day's weather half-heartedly cooperated with patches of welcomed sunshine to scare away the chill from the wet and mucky games, but it was difficult to detect the rosiness of cheeks or the blue-tinted lips beneath the caked on layers of paint, pancake mix, and soap bubbles that so many participants chose to inflict upon themselves. Although pre-warned about the dishevelled possibilities, participation in the activities was 100% voluntary. The carnage was significant enough to prompt my concern for the mental health of both custodians and bus drivers and the mess that they would have to deal with after the fact.

The best news of the day was shared by a friend on staff! "If you think this is pretty nifty," she warned, "then make sure you accept a job on the Friday before the Elmvale Fall Fair!" Apparently, the day's action was merely a warm up for the parade that would feature the four house-created floats, appreciated and cheered for by the townsfolk as they supported their house from EDHS day's gone by.

Even if I'm not working that day, I think I'll drop by. 

WOW!

The year that flew by

September 25th, 2022, is only around the corner, and I can't believe that almost 365 days have passed so quickly. It seems like just a few days ago that our beautiful daughter hitched her life's cart to her Boo, Chris Cove, on the shores of Eagle Lake in a stunner of a day complete with storybook cloud cover that produced sun beams that reflected on the gentle waves. As our oldest, she broke the seal for our experience as parents of the bride/groom, and I can vividly recall the overwhelming sense of pride enveloping my soul as she gazed deeply into her soon-to-be-hubby's eyes as she promised him her everything for the rest of their lives.

I didn't understand other parents when they described their heightened emotions in response to their child's weddings, thinking it was the stuff of hyperbole or exaggeration, but I must confess I'm a card-carrying member of that club now as their pending anniversary conjures up the plethora of memories from that weekend in 2021.

I gotta admit, I still get a little teary.

So much has happened in the last 12 months since the wedding that it's hard to know where to start. We've experienced most of what our adopted city of Guelph had to offer, we've bought our first condo, we've squeezed as much Wasaga exploration as possible into a single summer, we've seen Maddi + Chris navigate the honeymoon phase of their wedding, we've celebrated our son Keaton's blossoming relationship with Jessica as they took the plunge to share their lives together under the same roof, and we've dealt with a host of issues and events in our extended family. 

Even thought the official date is September 25th, our now conjoined families decided to mark the occasion this past weekend, returning to the "scene of the crime" on the shores of Eagle Lake thanks to the continuing incredible generosity of the Cove family. If you recall, the Cove-Porter nuptials were on the sands of the Cove cottage beach. Despite the Doom 'n Gloom of a mid-September forecast, the weekend's weather trumped the naysayers, offering glorious conditions that permitted a very cottage-like array of activities, "miles of smiles" erupting on our group's faces. One of the many highlights of the weekend was the latest Cove family purchase, their intention to add to the amazing ambience of their abode with a weekend long bonfire lit in the brand spanking new smokeless and deck-friendly fire pit. What is it about the dancing flames of an open flame that is so mesmerizing? Enhanced by an endless supply of snacks and treats, a host of frosty adult beverages, and boat-loads (pun intended) of catch-me-up banter, the weekend was memorable, to say the least.

After arriving fashionably late in the mid-morning, Saturday afternoon featured a host of recreational activities! The ladies took to the kayaks for a paddle through the wind-protected channel into the next lake. The 3 generations of Cove gentlemen took to the waters of Eagle Lake, taking advantage of the stiff northwesterly winds for a lovely sail, and this old fart hopped on to his Dark Matter for a 55 km spin around the Haliburton Highlands. I'd wager that all came away with a deep sense of satisfaction. 

We had agreed that the feature dinner would be a cooperative affair and when all of the pieces were placed on the dinner table, the salivation began in earnest. BBQ steak, fresh corn on the cob, twice-baked potatoes, and Greek salad, all in quantities so aplenty that all were reminded to save room for Maddi's dessert creation. I'm not at all confident that everyone listened, judging by the remarks of satiation afterward.

The icing on the dinner's cake, LITERALLY, was the stupendous anniversary cake created by the talented hands of my daughter, featuring a pecan + pretzel praline base supporting a sublimely moist cake and smothered in Italian butter creme icing. A whopping 3 tiers high, slices of her creation peaked over the edges of the plate and sent tastebuds into a dizzying whirl of delight. Like so many times before, all in attendance raved about her abilities and urged her yet again to consider turning PRO. While not atop the list of why he loves her so, Chris is definitely appreciative of Maddi's loving creations. 

Didn't he choose well?

If you're going to dive headlong into a weekend of gluttonous celebrations, you can't neglect the brunch, and I'm thrilled to reveal that it was a glorious mix of Canadian staples with eggs made to order, strip bacon, back bacon, fried tomatoes, and fresh fruit, but the over-the-top decadence was with bacon-fried cheese bread, an English delicacy so I was told. If you've never been treated to this heavenly treat, you really must do yourself a proper.

Our most sincere thanks to Tony & Cheryl Cove for sharing so willingly!

Of course, no trip to Haliburton Highlands would be complete without a visit with my MIL Pearl, and as such, featured her desire to feed us. Despite our feeble attempts to recount the wide assortment of treats the weekend already offered, we shared her famous lasagna and fresh tea biscuits. The ride home Sunday night saw us lean the seats back a little to release some of the pressure created by sitting. HaHa!

A quick reflection of the previous 48 hours events gave us the "warm fuzzies" for Maddi + Chris. What a wonderful way to celebrate a first anniversary! 

Eternal love and hugs to Maddi & Chris!

E=MC2

"Energy," stated Einstein in 1907, "cannot be created or destroyed; It can only be changed from one form to another."My recent experiences reinforced that this is absolutely true, in multiple instances.

The last days of summer faded quietly into the past, and with it went the frenetic energy of tourism at Wasaga Beach, the world's longest freshwater beach. The end of traditional vacation time signals the reformation of that frenetic energy in the form of another school year start. I was asked by my former colleagues at BNC to come in on the opening week to assist with the bedlam that ensued from cramming another 300 students inside its walls, as the roll increased from just under 1200 to over 1500. Just walking through the front door you could feel the impact of those billions of atoms zooming chaotically, the cacophony of frenzied voices crashed like waves against my eardrums as hundreds of excited teens reacquainted and reconnected. If you haven't experienced the vivacity and zest of a school year start, you would be incredulous of it's electrical pulse.

Sticking with my energy theme, I truly and wholly believe that this swelling population at BNC is a direct consequence of the outstanding quality of teachers who toil each day trying to, "stamp out the seeds of ignorance" with their tremendous caring, empathic energy wrapped up inside a competency burrito. I am continually in awe of the creativity and dedication of my former colleagues as their smiles and twinkling eyes betray their love of their vocation. There is a saying that, paraphrased, says, "You become the people you surround yourself with" and from the top down, BNC is a shining example of that.

My metamorphosis into pure bred Border Collie came to fruition as my first-week duties included herding stragglers into class, corralling AWOL'ers back into class, and lending an empathetic ear to hoards of lost niners as they frantically searched for their new classrooms. In between the laps of the halls, I assisted in the Student Success room eradicating frustrations and unveiling understanding! The energy of the room was abundant in a plethora of forms!

I've said it many, many times in my conversations over the 2.5 years of my retirement, I LOVE TEACHING, it's education that I escaped from, and that's why I still supply teach.

My love affair with cycling is certainly not a secret, and although I dearly love expending energy in a solo effort amidst the astute beauty of Simcoe's wondrous offerings, I hold social rides near and dear for the sheer glory of a group of like-minded crazies zooming around her gnarly trails and gravelly concessions. Training alone certainly challenges my energy stores, like when I recently solo'd the 175 km's of the Simcoe County Rail Trail, but when you share a hilly hump like the route I conquered with some cycling buddies that included climbing the escarpment 3 different times, let's agree that the humongous energy cost is mitigated by the collective buzz of brotherhood. Likely exposing my lunacy, I chose to add a ride from Wasaga to our meeting place in Stayner that day, both before and after that 95 km roller coaster ride my biking idol and good friend Kevin Simms had concocted. In a cloaked effort to challenge our energy systems, he had us ascend almost 1300 m of total elevation as the route took us south past Creemore, west around Singhampton, and back to Stayner. The icing on the day's cake was dipping my dusty, salt-encrusted, weary corpse into Georgian Bay's waters after cycling back to Wasaga, proud of the day's stats: 

139.36 km,
1591 m,
6:06.16 of riding time,
1 Frosty pint of Creemore lager,

1 gargantuan tomato/bell pepper soup at Mylar+Loretta's in Singhampton,
1/2 can of recovery of salt+vinegar Pringles,

15 minutes soak in the cooling expanse of G Bay.

In support of Einstein, the copious energy ingested was equal to the sweaty energy expended as I slogged up those 3 gravelly ascents. The energy required for the banter, chirps, belly laughs, and congratulatory fist-bumps came from the stores of jiggly energy I brought with me from home, hidden under my skin.

Way, way back in the 'Stone Ages', a younger version of the infamous BCC science teacher Bio Bob taught me about the relationship between light wavelengths and colour, a lesson that has recently percolated to the retrievable surface of my grey matter as Joyce and I regularly drink in the incredible spectacle that Wasaga offers each night that we venture to the shores to sneak a peak. I now see the energy relationships that exist all around us between the natural world and our senses, flowing this way and that. We have been gifted some nigh kaleidoscopic vistas, a wide swath of colour continuums illuminating the western sky as Mother Earth signals the end of another glorious day in paradise. Some have claimed, "If you've seen one sunset, you seen them all." but I say unto you that just like snowflakes, not all sunsets are the same, and I feel confident in my assertion after witnessing dozens since we established roots here in Wasaga.

Yep, Einstein was bang on. 

Energy is changing faster than a chameleon in a Holi celebration (CLICK), but the amount is as constant as death and taxes. Even with my science background and many years on this planet, I am continually astounded by the gloriousness around me on a daily basis.

#lifeisgood

Feeling flatter than a pancake

I've been compelled to write too many posts of this nature since I started this Blog, and I don't mind admitting that I'm feeling pretty down right now.

This past Sunday started out wonderfully when brilliant sunshine streaming through the bedroom window stirred me from a night's rest with it's bright and warm embrace. Following my normal morning routine, there was coffee and social media as I mentally revved up for what looked like another gorgeous August day, potentially at the beach. A post from a former student from BCC, Ben Browne, sent me into a tailspin, and further searching plus a phone call from Adam Duke, a parent from my BNC days, revealed that a profound tragedy had taken the lives of 6 young people from the Barrie area, two of which I had taught and/or coached.

It's inevitable that we all meet our maker ... as the saying goes, None of us get out alive ... at some point but to be cut down in the prime of your young life is horrific, to say the least. As an educator, we're introduced to literally thousands of young people through the classroom or extra curriculars over a 30 year career, so the chances of grieving the loss of one is pretty high, something I unfortunately have experience with. To lose two great young men in the same travesty is mind-boggling.

RIP Curtis King 1999-2022 graduate of BCC/ISS

I met Curtis when he was a grade 9 student at Barrie Central. He was placed in my HPE class, and as an early bloomer, was already over 6 feet tall, gifted with tremendous athleticism for a 14 year old, plus a mischievous glint in his eye. I would come to learn that Curtis had a great way with others, a wonderfully quirky sense of humour, and never shied away from the spotlight. It soon became apparent that his passion was for football, and considering his physical gifts, he was a standout on the junior FB team. A natural leader, he occasionally rubbed his mates the wrong way because he possessed a well developed sense of self, something they viewed as arrogance, but I believe was extreme confidence.

As a unique factoid, he was the last player to score a touchdown representing BCC, an accomplishment made only more awesome given the fact is was a one-handed, over the shoulder highlight.

When Central was closed in 2016, Curtis transferred to Innisdale and we lost touch. We shared brief encounters over his Sr years as he continued to shine on ISS's football teams until he graduated in 2019. 

It was really easy to like Curtis, high praise if I'm honest.

RIP River Wells 1999-2022 graduate of BNC

I first met River when he entered BNC in grade 9. He was friends with some of the other boys who I had in HPE classes, and as a standout athlete, I enjoyed his escapades on the pitch in both Jr FB and Rugby. It was readily apparent that he was very athletic and "tough as nails", as the saying goes. 

It was in his grade 11 year when he played Sr rugby that I got the opportunity to understand River the person. He was a relatively quiet young man, at least around adults, but was always courteous, pleasant, and quick with a smile when we spoke. He was quietly proud of his indigenous heritage, something we shared a few conversations about, but I knew that there was stuff going on under the surface that he kept locked up. As we travelled our journey together, I would find out that he had many obstacles outside of school that impacted him, occasionally putting school and athletics on the back burner. To his credit, he persevered through the high school years and I think came away with loads of things to be proud of.

I personally found River to be a great young man and I truly enjoyed our friendship, but he earned my complete respect with the ferocity that he played the sports he loved. Humble to a fault, he accepted praise for his play with a shrug, a grin, and a sheepish nod of the head. I only regret that I didn't make more of an effort to know him better outside of athletics.

One moment that sticks out in my mind was the celebrations after the 2019 GBSSA Championship Rugby game, a win that had escaped River's buddies and he for 2 seasons, when I found him amidst the hugs and hollers to offer my appreciation of what I thought was his best game I had seen. With a hint of a tear in his eye, he accepted my congratulatory hug and sincerely thanked me for all I had done. 

As it turned out, his cohort was not finished. As a group, River and his buddies one-upped the GB win by winning the school's first OFSAA banner with a Consolation Championship win over perennial powerhouse Brantford CI, a feat that I know made all of them extremely proud. The smile on River's face in the melee after the win told anyone who cared exactly what it meant to him. We didn't talk much when I  offered him a hug, and I took that to mean that he had found some contentment in his life.

Although we stayed in touch on social media following his graduation in 2019, we didn't enjoy a personal conversation during that time, definitely something I can only regret now.

The greatest praise I can offer for River is that I was truly proud to have met him.

To Curtis' and River's families, I can only offer my sincerest condolences for the pain they must endure over the coming days. To arrange your last goodbyes to your child is certainly something I wish on no parent, a torture that I can only imagine. To all of the many friends that they made over their short lives, I offer you an olive branch of hope that you will learn of the fragility of life, and move forward in your own paths armed with clearer understanding that things can change in the blink of an eye. 

To the families of the other 4 young people, although I didn't personally know your child, my most sincere sympathies for the same pain you will endure. 

Rest in peace and God Bless all.

Lessons from the Beach

I spent the goodly portion of my life in a learning environment, be it as a receiver from elementary up to and including post secondary, or as a facilitator, again from elementary to post secondary. It's likely a 60-40 split, if I'm honest, between the classroom stage and the extra-curricular stage, but the learning was no less profound regardless of the setting. Being immersed in a learning environment was precluded by my innate desire to constantly seek opportunities for growth, and the change of surroundings to the Wasaga Beach area has not disappointed.

Some recent lessons have come directly. 

Some have arrived following a circuitous path. 

In no particular order of importance or impact:

A) You SHALL not pass!

Obviously not the kids I met
because that would be creepy

I was "oot 'n aboot" on the Dark Matter on one particularly gorgeous morning and happened upon three cherubic faces prancing and gyrating in an effort to alert me of their latest business efforts. Waving a hand-printed sign advertising their wares, they hoped I might consider a purchase. Little did these little pixies know, one of the lesser known MAMIL (Middle Aged Men In Lycra) rules of conduct is that one never passes a child's lemonade stand. The 1000 watt smiles immediately singled their delight as I asked what they had to offer as I retrieved a few coins from my handlebar satchel, and after settling on a cool glass of iced tea, they informed me ... like all great salespeople ... that I should make sure to come back next week because the fare would be expanded to include cookies. They were pleased to have made a few shekels, I was pleased to have supported their cause, and all was right in Fergusonvale. If you venture into the Flos Rd 4/Highway 27 area, look for these cutie patooty sisters on the northeast corner. You won't be disappointed.

I've learned that the MAMIL rules are legit!

B) Service Canada is fraught with ineptitude

I'll likely be looking at a stay in the proverbial doghouse for releasing this information, but Joyce and I recently attempted to apply for her CPP (Canada Pension Plan) payments since she had crossed the entry threshold for eligibility. The process was a new experience for both of us and included accessing the Service Canada portal after making an account. Coming up with an username and password is a familiar task these days so we hurdled obstacle numero uno with ease. Clicking CONTINUE launched the application for said account with its three options:

(1) Use a GCKey, 

(2) Use banking info, or 

(3) Use provincial info. 

Well, (3) was not an option since it only applied to Alberta and BC, and (2) was less desirable since it always makes us nervous sharing such info online, so that really only left (1) as the path to choose. The resulting pages asked us to set security questions, another task that was far too familiar, but also included a request for the birth names of one parent, we assumed to ensure she was who we said she was. After filling out the info, the responding error message suggested trying the other parent, yet to our dismay, making the suggested change only returned the same error. Perplexed but 100% certain we had answered correctly (unless her parents had some "splaining" to do), we tried one more time, and the responding error message now informed us our account was locked, leaving us no recourse other than contacting Service Canada directly. You can likely guess that we encountered ridiculous wait times on hold, and we opted instead to submit a request to have them phone us, anticipating a multi-day wait. 

I'm moderately surprised to reveal that it was only a 34 hour wait, and the pleasant sounding lady who called patiently explained that this was a common issue with their system. Wait, excuse me? You're aware that the system has a profound glitch but the glitch still remains? The only recourse was to have them snail mail us a PAC (Personal Access Code), a "service" that shouldn't take more than 10 business days. 

The happy ending to this tale is that it only took 7 business days to receive the PAC and we were able to finally access Service Canada's portal to apply for Joyce's CPP. The post script to this is that we haven't heard whether or not she's approved, but at least the process is started.

Cue the exaggerated eye roll, but we learned that first instincts are often valid.

C) All AGM's sound the same

Since our present unit is our first exploration into all that is condo ownership, we were recently eager to experience our first condo AGM. I tried to digest the legal gobbledygook prior to the Zoom meeting and thought I had a passing understanding of the issues that would be discussed. About 1 hour prior to the scheduled commencement of the Zoom call, we received a message from the management company that we didn't have enough owners registered to make a quorum, the threat of rescheduling hanging in the air. Since only 16% of owners were interested enough to connect, we signed on anyway with high hopes and were greeted with a few faces, some we had already met and a host of new ones including those of our management company. We all proceeded to wait 20 min for doors to be banged on in an effort to rustle the final few needed to make a quorum. Eventually a quorum was declared and the "festivities" proceeded.

Once the meeting was underway, I was besieged with flashbacks of GBSSA or OFSAA AGM's, procedures and protocols, but in the end, very little changed that would effect us personally. 

We certainly learned a thing or two about our condo development.

D) Way better than Netflix

Sitting on the hill that overlooks
JC Massie Field was perfect!

We treated ourselves to some Friday night entertainment recently, and came away with a refreshed attitude about the wide variety of opportunities that exist should one simply extend some energy in a search, opportunities that far surpass sitting on one's Gluteus Maximus streaming yet another questionable choice in the Idiot Box.

Thanks to a Social Media post from a former GC State colleague Mike Sabourin, we learned that the Barrie Rugby Football Club was hosting a Friday Night Lights game at JC Massie Field in an effort to enhance the experience for its players through a prime time exposition of what it offers. As it turned out, Barrie was hosting the Oakville Crusaders in a season finale under the floodlights, cheered on by a few hundred supporters, not the least of which were Joyce and I. 

What the game lacked in execution ... this was U16 after all ... it more than made up in effort and energy as each squad played their hearts out, and featured much that delighted the crowd, based on the loud spontaneous cheers that erupted. In the end, Oakville proved the better side on that night, but the Barrie fans certainly had things to be proud of. 

The best part, I would wager, from the kid's perspective was the post-game social that Barrie had set up for their guests to enjoy after the game. If you're not a rugby convert, the "beer up" is a highly anticipated and appreciated component of any "friendly" and makes the game just a little bit different because it's expected that you bash the opposition silly then share a beverage after reliving it. Since the participants were of the U16 variety, the "beer" was likely of the root variety, the pizza was tasty, the sweets hit the spot, and new friendships were created.

We learned there are absolutely things to watch that are way better than Netflix!

E) Wasaga Beach rocks!

Like all moves, there were a few trepidatious moments signing the agreement to purchase, what with new people, places, amenities, and services to recon, but we've been gosh-darned pleased with our first few months here. I've settled into all that is offered for cycling in the Georgian Bay area, and we've enjoyed so lovely walks on the beach. The weather recently was so stifling we looked to escape the sun for a bit by visiting a well marked trail in one of the Simcoe County Forest plots on the concessions nearby. We surmised that a shady wooded walk followed by a dunk in GBay would be awesome.

I see a relative cornucopia of trails as I navigate the side roads and concessions, so I convinced Joyce to take a flier on one not too far away. Parking the RAV, I spied a sign that indicated the trail was a part of the Ontario Federation of ATV's and guessed that it would weave its way through the wooded plot. Well, weave is not nearly strong enough descriptor for the zigging and zagging that was asked of us, and despite Strava telling us we'd walked 5 km, the map showed a path "crookeder than a dog's hind leg". A discussion was had about the ridiculousness of the path winding back on itself repeatedly, and some old-fashioned bush wacking gave us an escape from the madness, allowing us to walk on the side of the road back to the RAV.

We DEF learned that well marked trails don't always equal enjoyment.

We were both showing signs of the day's exertion, so quickly drove down to our FAV free parking spot, and treated ourselves to the refreshing water's of Georgian Bay. Whether it was low water levels or high beach build up, the water's depth is pretty shallow this summer, making for very warm lake temperatures for quite a distance out from shore before the bottom eventually gives way, providing a welcomed respite from the heat. We even had the foresight to pack a couple of "travellers" for a beachside aperitif to round our a glorious afternoon.

Definitely learning about the perks of living near the beach!