Won't You Be My Neighbour?

The house next door just went up for sale yesterday. This is the opportunity you have been waiting for.

Blue-Eyed Boy

I never seem to get around to writing a real post lately, but I've still been taking quite a few pictures. Here's a cute one from about a week ago of Scott and his mom. Look at how big he is getting!

The Graveside Service

I had the honour of being a pallbearer and saying the prayer to dedicate my Grandpa's grave. It was an experience I'll never forget, so I'm glad that somebody managed to take some decent pictures of the occasion, like this photo from my cousin's blog.

Byron J Anderson 1921 ~ 2008 Byron J Anderson, age 87, beloved husband of the late Shirley Taylor Anderson, passed away peacefully at home early Sunday morning, Feb. 3, 2008.He is survived by his sister Moselle Baker of Raymond, Alberta; and his brother Gordon Anderson of Lethbridge, Alberta; his three children and their spouses: Lynne Wride (Marc) of Murray, UT; Dr. Douglas Anderson (Lisa) of Naperville, Illinois; and Margo Denning (Robert) of McCall, Idaho; his 13 grandchildren and 22 great-grandchildren. Byron was born Jan. 12, 1921 in Taber, Alberta Canada, the oldest son of Joseph LeRoy Anderson and Annie LaVern Fairbanks. He moved with his family to Raymond Alberta Canada when he was 12 years old, completed high school in Raymond, then attended University of Alberta and graduated with a bachelor degree in Chemical Engineering. On Dec. 28th, 1945 he married Shirley, whom he had known since he was 12, in the Cardston Alberta L.D.S. Temple. After living in Calgary, and Montreal they moved to Tuscola, IL where he became a naturalized U.S. citizen. They retired to Salt Lake City in 1984 to be closer to family. He truly felt a responsibility to leave the world a better place and thus his favorite phrase was "the world is run by those who show up". Because of that, no matter where he lived he was always very active in his church, community, and politics. But above all he knew that he was a child of God and treated others as such. His passions were family, music, Scouting, sailing, amateur radio, gardening, and beekeeping. He was much loved and will be greatly missed. Funeral services will be held Sat. February 9, 2008, 11 a.m. at the Murray Little Cottonwood 6th Ward Chapel, 6410 S. 725 E. Friends may call Friday, Feb. 8th from 7-9 p.m. at the Holladay-Cottonwood Mortuary, 4670 S. Highland Dr., and Sat. at the ward from 9:30-10:30 a.m. prior to services. Interment, Holladay Cemetery, 4900 S. Memory Ln. (1990 E.)

Goodbye Grandpa A

I am flying from Calgary to Salt Lake today for my Grandpa's funeral. He passed away in his sleep between Saturday night and Sunday morning, four years after my Grandma left us. Grandpa spent at least one full year on oxygen because of a degenerative pulmonary condition. He could feel the clock ticking, but it didn't bother him much. He described himself as "playing out the endgame of his life" -- as if it was all one big game of chess. I like his comparison because it implies two things: 1) that he was winning the game; and 2) that he still had moves to make. I don't know if that's quite what he meant, but that's how I like to think of it.

For the last 7 years since we got married we have alternated between our respective families for Christmas vacation. This is mainly because we only had the time and money to visit one during the break. Now that we are back in Calgary, it was possible to spend Christmas with R's family and New Year's down in Salt Lake City with my family. This was a particularly good thing because it was the only opportunity little Scotty ever had to meet his Great Grandpa A. I think they both appreciated the opportunity:


We will miss Grandpa. He was a remarkable man. There was no end to the man's gusto, and I don't think I've ever met his equal. It is sad to think that we'll not seem him again, but that feeling is partially offset by the thought of him being together again with Grandma.

More Shots For Scott

A few days ago Scott went in for a doctor's appointment to get a few more booster shots (the previous visit was in October). They weighed him, measured his height, and then poked icky needles into his thighs. Poor little guy.




As you can see from the graphs, his height is 70th percentile. Weight is 64th percentile. People always say he looks big for his age, but the statistics suggest that he is hardly above average. On the cute scale, I think he is off the charts, however.

The Weekend the Woman Went

Today I was riding the C-Train back home from a job interview and I read an article in the paper about a new TV series starting this week called "The Week the Women Went". The show takes place in small-town Hardisty, Alberta (200km SE of Edmonton), where all the women are whisked away for a week's vacation while the men are left to fend for themselves. Apparently, they picked Hardisty because it's one of those places where the men are extra manly (read chauvanistic) and take pride in the fact that they don't do much around the house. Half of the fun is supposed to come from watching the men struggle at keeping the house together, the other half is supposed to come from watching the woman let their hair down while they air each other's dirty laundry. After all, it's a small town and everybody knows everybody else.

Well, this weekend is not going to make it onto TV, and it's probably not as wild or exciting as the show the CBC has prepared, but we've got our own little version here. R had a chance to fly to back to Ottawa for 4 days on Saturday, so I've been taking care of the little man without her. Fortunately, not ALL the women went to Ottawa this weekend, so I've had some invaluable assistance from R's mom. I managed on my own until Sunday night, but now I'm staying at the in-laws' place until R comes back on Tuesday, because I have to leave Scotty at home while I go to class, job interviews, etc. I would bring him to the interviews, but I think he would steal all the attention.

I've got another interview tomorrow, one on Thursday, and possibly some more this week if these ones go well. Needless to say, there hasn't been a lot of sleeping going on so far. But real men don't need sleep. Real men like those guys in Hardisty, Alberta

One Huge Cheque

How often do you get a chance to take a picture with a cheque this size? I went to the Calgary Society of Financial Analysts Annual Forecast Dinner last night and our group received this donation from the proceeds of the dinner. The amount will be used to increase the size of the portfolio that we manage as part of our finance education.


We also snapped this picture with the new Dean of the Business School, Dr. Leonard Waverman. He's just arrived in Calgary from the London Business School. He was very pleasant and quite willing to pose with us.

The Piano Man and His Hero Father

When Scott sees something he wants, he can reach about twice as far as you would expect. I'd say he has a range of about 12 feet, and he still hasn't even learned to crawl.

When he's sitting with us in the living room, he often catches sight of the keyboard that sits next to the couch. If he decides he wants to play the piano, we had better just get out of his way. The boy is serious about his music. I have put together a quick video of him tickling the ivories back in December:



He's not the only one in the family serious about music and serious about getting down and celebrating the new year. My brother posted a video from our New Year's Eve shin-dig at his place down in Highland, where there was no shortage of Guitar Heroes.

Four Part Family Photo

This year we sent out a few Christmas cards (mainly just to relatives) with a picture of our family on the front. It's a shot of all three of us on the main street of Banff, Alberta, the mountain resort town near Calgary:

I think it turned out pretty nicely, but that was only after a bit of wrangling on my part. We got home from our anniversary trip to Banff and realized that we should have taken a family photo while we were there, since it is such a nice backdrop. We had several decent pictures of us with Scott, but nothing of the whole family, and it didn't seem likely that we would have a chance to go take some more pictures before it would be too late to mail out a few cards.

So I set to work in Photoshop. Here is the photo I started with. As you can see, Scott is quite hidden from view.

I took Scott's face from another picture, and rotated it to fit into the new space. The first time I pasted it in, it was way too large (his head was bigger than mine) but the final version is pretty close to scale.

What family picture would be complete without mom? I had this perfect shot of R posing near the stroller that was a cinch to clip and add in.
For fun, I also threw in an extra mountain in the background. I think I determined that this was Mount Rundle. The sun is hitting it at a completely different angle than everything else in the picture, but I didn't really worry about it.

It seemed a little strange to send out a doctored photograph on our Christmas card, but I didn't do anything too dramatic to try to improve our appearance, so you can consider this a fairly reliable representation of what we might look like if we were to pose together on the streets of Banff.


We hope you had a merry Christmas and a happy New Year.

Secret Santa's 12 Days Of Christmas

For the last 5 or 6 years I have been a volunteer leader for the youth group at church. Every Christmas, we pick a family in our congregation to be the recipients of 12 days of gifts, delivered to the doorstep by a group of "Secret Santas". In late November, the youth wrapped most of the presents at a weeknight activity, with one gift for each of the 12 days:

#	DAY	DEC.	GIFT
1	Wed	12	turkey
2	Thurs	13	turtles
3	Fri	14	stuffing
4	Sat	15	CD
5	Sun	16	lifesavers
6	Mon	17	eggnog
7	Tues	18	ornaments
8	Wed	19	rolls & margarine
9	Thurs	20	potatoes
10	Fri	21	socks
11	Sat	22	pie
12	Sun	23	gifts (ie: boardgames)

A tag was affixed to each of the 12 packages, with a message based on the song "The Twelve Days of Christmas". A few years back, I wrote a new set of verses to better match the gifts for each day, which were mainly the components of a Christmas dinner. I think I wrote the whole thing out in about 20 minutes one night, but we've been using it with very few changes for years:

On the 1st day of Christmas,
Santa gave to you:
A partridge in a pear tree.
The partridge flew away,
But we found you this replacement.


On the 2nd day of Christmas,
Santa gave to you:
Two turtle doves
All wrapped up in chocolate…
…Ooooh, sweet chocolate.


On the 3rd day of Christmas,
Santa gave to you:
Three French hens.
But what good are hens
Without some stuffing?


On the 4th day of Christmas,
Santa gave to you:
Four calling birds.
But the birds were so good,
They went on a European concert tour.
So here are their latest albums.


On the 5th day of Christmas,
Santa gave to you:
Five golden rings.
Santa’s not much for jewelry—
He gives candy rings instead!


On the 6th day of Christmas,
Santa gave to you:
Six geese a-laying.
So we gathered the eggs,
And made you this drink.


On the 7th day of Christmas,
Santa gave to you:
Seven swans a-swimming.
But we exchanged the swans
For these classy ornaments.
(What good are a bunch of swans?)


On the 8th days of Christmas,
Santa gave to you:
Eight maids a-milking.
The maids had to go home,
But they churned this fresh butter.
(Well, it sure tastes like butter!)


On the 9th day of Christmas,
Santa gave to you:
Nine ladies dancing.
(We’re not sure
What this has to do with potatoes.)


On the 10th day of Christmas,
Santa gave to you:
Ten lords a-leaping.
Unfortunately, the lords leapt right out
Of their socks and disappeared.


On the 11th day of Christmas,
Santa gave to you:
Eleven pipers piping.
--And here’s a piping-hot pie.
(Well, it’s probably not so hot now, though
but you could heat up if you wanted—
and maybe serve it with ice cream, etc)


On the 12th day of Christmas,
Santa gave to you:
Twelve drummers drumming.
The drummers all chipped in
For a swell Christmas gift.
-
Merry Christmas from the drummers,
from Santa, all nine ladies-dancing.
May your Christmas this year
Be filled up with turkey
And with loads of good cheer.

Today was the last delivery for this year's project, and I think the kids all really enjoyed being a part of it. They particularly like the part where they get to ring the doorbell and run away into the night. It's a great tradition and one that we did when I was a teenager, so the tradition continues...

The Comments Feature Has Changed

A few people have told me they've had trouble making comments on the blog since the comments function has changed. Just to clarify, you don't have to have a Google account to make comments. If you don't have a Google account, you have to click on "Nickname" and put your moniker in the blank. This replaces the "other" field that was there before. You can type any name you want in that blank, from something as short and simple as "D" to something longer like "The Sovereign of The Realm".

STEP 1: Type your comments and click on "Nickname"


STEP 2: Type in your Nickname (you can include your web address if you have a website)


I hope this has been informative. Let's see some more comments.

Grey, Pebbled Finish

This is probably one of the dirtiest cars I've ever seen -- and it's mine.

A few weeks ago, we bought a car through the auction and it arrived just this week. It had to be shipped from Vancouver on a truck, so it took a while to get here. I suspect that they took some kind of indirect route to get here, perhaps traveling through a bog... or maybe a bog and then a gravel pit. The car was absolutely filthy after the trip, covered in a thick coat of grime and pebbles. When we picked it up, we had to use handfuls of snow to "wash" the glass enough to safely see outside and drive.


Before I washed the car, I took this picture of the trunk, where you can clearly see the pebbles. I don't think I've ever seen anything quite like that. Once it was all washed off it looked just fine, so the trip through the gravelly bog doesn't seem to have had any long-term adverse effects.

The Real Canadian Butter Chicken Rant

When I was about 18 years old I received a letter from the grocery store. It was in response to a card I had filled out for their comments box, in which I said I was disappointed that they had increased the price of chocolate dipped donuts from 3/$1 to nearly 50 cents apiece. The price increase had pushed the combined cost of a donut and a litre of chocolate milk to more than two dollars, requiring me to break a $5 bill to make my favourite purchase. In response to my comment, the store manager sent me a letter explaining the economic concepts of supply and demand, somehow trying to blame the market at large for this unfortunate turn of events. In a way, he was right -- at the higher price I consumed fewer donuts.

I had hoped for a more lucrative response, like the time I left a comment for the wave pool management. I noted that it was a very long walk down a very cold corridor to get from the boys change room to the pool deck. I suggested that they think about heating the corridor. I think I was 10 years old at the time. To their credit, the pool managers sent me more than just a patronizing letter about the demand for hot air -- they also enclosed a pass for a free family visit to the pool. Although I didn't use the pass myself (my oldest brother used it to take a date to the pool, along with my 7-year-old youngest brother... quite the date, I'm sure), I appreciated the gesture.

Now I'm considering writing another letter to the grocery store. It's the same store as the donut incident -- "The Real Canadian Superstore" at 5251 Country Hills Boulevard in NW Calgary. I have always thought that was the strangest name for a grocery store; however, it is much more descriptive than the name of the company's stores that appear in Eastern Canada: "Loblaws". I remember when we moved to Ottawa, we kept seeing all these buildings with "Loblaws" written on the side, but we had no idea what a Loblaw was. Apparently, a Loblaw is a grocer, since the stores invariably sell groceries. A Loblaw is not to be confused with a similar species of Ontario grocer called a "Loeb". I digress.

I want to write to The Real Canadian Superstore because they are always out of President's Choice Butter Chicken Cooking Sauce (PCBCCS). After eating at a few Indian buffets I fell in love with butter chicken (served with rice and naan bread); however, R didn't always feel up for the trip to my favourite Ottawa buffet (Moni Mahal at 164 Laurier Ave). Luckily, R's sister introduced us to a simple alternative: The PCBCCS. We could enjoy the rich goodness of this mild curry dish from the comfort of our own home. It was as simple as buying a jar from the local Loblaws.

Unfortunately, that is not as simple as it sounds.

Our Ottawa store carried several PC-brand Indian cooking sauces, but the PCBCCS was always low in stock, and often ran out completely. A popular item, I guess. This was just a minor inconvenience until we moved to Calgary, where the "Real Canadian Superstore" managers long ago surrendered to the forces of supply and demand. We normally buy our groceries at the nearby Safeway (what a pitifully short name), but we sometimes make the trip up to Superstore for PC brand items like butter chicken. Since August we had never found any butter chicken on the shelf, until this week (we've tried Patak's and it just doesn't compare to PCBCCS).

When it finally came in, R bought 4 jars. You basically have to hoard the stuff if you want any.

I think a fairly short comment to management would make my point: "Stock more butter chicken, you ninnies!" I'll mull it over and decide whether I should include a patronizing explanation of the economics of inventory stocking that I learned in my Operations Management 601 class this semester. I could perhaps photocopy the pages from the text book or print a few powerpoint slides for them with formulas about how to formulate a proper stocking strategy and avoid stockouts.

Aside from the general satisfaction I would get from venting my frustrations, I would hope to receive two benefits by writing such a letter:

1. More butter chicken on stores shelves, so people don't have to start looking on ebay;

2. A coupon for a free donut and chocolate milk.

The Christmas Window

I have a cousin in Idaho who wins $100 every year in his neighbourhood Christmas light decorating contest. He has the whole house covered in lights that are synched to music, which is broadcast to viewers via FM radio. They get a steady stream of cars coming to their place all through December. And every year it just gets bigger and better (the picture here is from last year's display, before he got the two inflatable snowmen, etc).

We haven't had any Christmas lights up on our house for several years. In fact, this is one of the few years that we've even bothered to set up a tree. Often, we would fly out of town to visit family so early in the month that it didn't make much sense to leave a tree to wither and die by the time we got back in January. Call us lazy. Call us humbugs. Whatever.

This year is different. This year we have a tree. Sure, I was too busy studying for finals to go along when R's sister and husband went out for the genuine tree-cutting experience, but they still brought back for us an organic, free-range tree. They delivered it right to our door, actually. We pulled out the small box of decorations (which we received as wedding gifts 7 years ago) and now we have a healthy dose of Christmas spirit emanating from the living room. People out on the street can probably see it through the window, where they must be struck to the core with the spirit of the season.

Speaking of windows, we happened to receive a few strings of outdoor Christmas lights that R's sister didn't need, so I decided to try putting those up outside to take it up another notch. Unfortunately, after outlining the kitchen window with lights (which was no mean feat with baby Scott in tow) I ran out of time and had to quit for the day. So right now we have one window full of Christmas cheer.

I had it plugged in for the first night, but I think I'll wait until I get at least two windows done before I plug it in again. But on the other hand, at the rate we've been going, that might not ever happen.

Nightswimming in Banff

It's been nearly a month, but I never got around to posting some more pictures from our anniversary trip to Banff at the end of November. We didn't do anything too fancy -- we mainly just strolled around the main streets of town, ducking into gift shops and baby stores when our ears started to get cold.


We had Scott buried under several layers of jackets, hoods, toques, blankets and sleeping bag (the Zooper Hula stroller came with a sweet matching sleeping bag), so he hardly felt the chill at all. In fact, it didn't take him too long before he just nodded off.

Here's a shot from Banff Avenue (main street) of what might be Mount Rundle. I have no idea what mountain it really is, but if you've seen our latest family picture, you might recognize it. It somehow managed to sneak into the background.

We also drove up the hill to the Fairmont Banff Springs Hotel, which is quite the alpine castle. It would be fun to stay in all the big railroad hotels in Canada someday. I've been in the lobbies of the big ones in Quebec City, Ottawa, Banff and Waterton Lake, but I've never stayed in any of them.

After a day of walking around in the cold, we weren't quite ready to jump in the cold pool for a swim, but we did spend some time in the hot tub. Luckily, the water in the hot tub wasn't overly hot (more of a warm tub), so it was just about right for Scott to have his second swimming experience. I've heard some babies don't really like the water. Scott is not one of them. During bathtime, he just loves to splash the water all over with his hands. The tub was no different, except that the sheer volume of water may have overwhelmed him a bit. With so many splashing opportunities, it was probably hard for him to know where to start.

We managed to capture some footage -- from a safe distance, of course. He is standing on one of the steps leading into the water, and you can see his practiced Jolly-Jumper technique at work. He still managed to splash and jump at the same time, but it took all of his concentration. This boy is very serious about his work.

Laughing About Spitting

This week Scott discovered a fun new talent. He purses his lips in a bit of an overbite and blows. It makes a "pbtttt" noise. It also produces a lot of saliva.

When he first stumbled upon this new trick, he was doubly thrilled that his mom copied it back to him, and he broke out in a laughing fit that lasted a good ten minutes. R managed to get the camera out and catch the last bit of it. I wasn't there, be she said that he was laughing even harder at the beginning.



We just love his laugh. He's got two major ones, the one in the video here and his full-out belly laugh -- we think both are hilarious. We also love that round-mouthed look he gets when he tries to grab something (ie: the camera).

Sorry the video is so long and uncut. I would edit it, but I'm one quarter of the way through a busy week of final exams. I'm only posting this to avoid reading another chapter of operations management powerpoint slides.

The Day The Microwave Died

"Pop."

And then the microwave was dead. The microwave that has been in my family for decades. The first microwave our family ever owned. The huge microwave. The microwave with the faux wood panelling. That microwave.

We got that microwave at Christmas about 20 years ago. I think microwaves have been around that long, haven't they? We weren't the first family to get one. We weren't usually the first to get any new piece of technology. I remember when we used to rent a VCR, waiting a few years before we shelled out the cash to buy one. Back when Nintendo first came out, we rented one of those too -- and never bought one. But we never rented a microwave. We bought one of those.

And we kept it for a really long time.

When we got married, my parents passed this family heirloom down to us, in a ceremony of sorts. They said something like, "We have a new microwave in our new house, so you can have this one." It was a special moment for everybody.

That was in the year 2000. The giant microwave served faithfully for seven more years, waving its last micro two short weeks after our anniversary. Not so lucky.

You don't realize how dependent you are on a microwave until it goes "pop." My supply of theatre-style buttered popcorn was completely cut off. I had to eat crackers and stuff. R had to find creative ways to heat up some pre-processed organic baby food that was stored in the freezer. We were lost without our wood-paneled giant.

I bought a new microwave at Canadian Tire on Friday. It's not as big, and it doesn't have any make-believe wood on it, but it will hopefully serve long enough to make popcorn for another generation of our family.

It can be a wedding gift for Scott.

Lucky Number Seven

Last weekend we celebrated our 7th anniversary with an overnight stay in nearby Banff, the famous mountain resort town near Calgary. Since we have never spent the night away from Scott yet, we didn't want to break our streak and brought him along.


I've got some more pictures, so stay tuned.

Nuclear Medicine

On Thursday, November 15 (what is that, two weeks ago?), a group of us went to the hospital to visit Kevin Way, who was one of our Scout leaders back when I was about 16 years old. He has consistently set records for being the nicest person I know, as well as being the sickest person I know. At some point in his life, he has probably been stricken with every malady you can think of, usually several of them at once. Some more prominent conditions are leukemia, diabetes and multiple sclerosis. The most recent addition was pneumonia. In fact, he has considered himself to be living on borrowed time for the last 20 years.

Through it all, he has remained upbeat, cheerful and thoughtful.

He was great at finding common interests with us, and since we were a bunch of self-absorbed teenagers, he took interest in the things we liked. He came out to countless sporting events, concerts, presentations and awards ceremonies. So, it was the least we could do to come and visit him in the hospital.



The leukemia had diminished his red blood cell count to the point where he had no energy left and could hardly get out of bed. After doctors tried giving him a blood transfusion, he was suddenly invigorated. By the time we came to visit, he was feeling much better. He's lost a lot of weight, but he's still got that same big heart.

Geek Content: Almost Two-Thirds

63% Geek

I have to admit, I made a wild guess on the Star Trek question and nailed it. Also, I've never watched Firefly, but I read a newspaper review once so I knew enough for that one too.