Wednesday, August 30, 2006

Bonnie and Clyde (revised)

I've decided there are too many pics of His Great, Grand Poobah (in waiting) on my blog. People get bored. Hello. Yussee, the Great Grand Poobah (in waiting) unfortunately has to look off in the distance and has to look like he know's something about something, that's what Grand Poobah's do (or they wouldn't be a Grand Poobah).

But Brenda, on the other hand, doesn't have to do that. Let me tell you a bit about Brenda from my observations. She is evil. Cute, but eeeeviiiiilllll. In a good way. There ain't no good way, Brenda is evil. We all fell for Brendas' evil ways, I don't think I fell for her evil innocence so much as others. I wouldn't of course. But my evil eye will shift from poor, innocent, cherubic Justin (I never thought I would write that down in my life) to Brenda. One can't take relatives at face value anymore. Justin looks like Al Capone and Brenda could be mistaken for Snow White (well maybe not, how about Bonnie of Bonnie and Clyde).

Love you Brenda
It's goes without saying I love you

Sunday, August 27, 2006

An Odd Bicycle Repair Shop

I try to take my bike into Aaron's at least once a week if not sooner. Aaron's younger sister, Diptheria has a new concept of fixing bikes. Fix the owner and the bike will follow. I'm gonna argue with that?

I've never met Aaron actually. There well could be. Diptheria tells me he has expertise in chains, tattooes and know's Charles Manson personally.

And so I've gone down to the the B's in the phone book to find a new bicycle repair shop: Bibble Bratwurst's Bike Emporium.

Max in a Bad Mood

Even the nicest dog in the history of mankind can have off days. It could have been due to the antlers he was wearing during Christmas '03. He didn't think they suited him, he would have preferred the red nose. Max's top ten list of annoying things:

10. Okay already, I don't mind a fire. But do they have to put the aerosol cans in it?

09. I don't mind thunder, but why does it have have to be noisy?

08. Who the hell came up with the seven dog years for every one human year. I don't remember being consulted on this. Shouldn't it be the other way around? We don't start wars.

07. My favourite hockey team has always been the Maple Leafs. Does anyone know how annoying it has been to pretend I like the Canucks? Of course the food and shelter thing comes into play here.

06. No one asked of course, no one ever does. Yes I enjoy retrieving balls, and yes I enjoy hiding them. But those little white ones with dimples in them can be awfully painful. Who asked the elderly wierd one to visit? He has hit me several times. If he actually lived here I'd be dead a long time ago.

05. I wasn't consulted on this either. Shouldn't 'pets' have rights? A pet bill of rights? We could choose who owns us. I'm pretty sure I wouldn't have chosen the skinny guy. He's subject to wild mood swings. Try to get a little attention from him in the morning. Or at lunch. Hello.

04. If someone would have asked me, and we know that isn't going to happen, the silly game of throwing projectiles at a wall would be outlawed. How can I cozy up under someone's feet if they keep getting up every 45 seconds? It's rediculous.

03. Not that I was asked, but in the unlikely event that I was, I'd recommend that persons above the age of sixty should be knighted and given 12 million dollars so they could treat me with the respect and dignity I deserve.

02. It's not up me, because nobody asked, but I hear dog heaven is going to be populated by dogs. That could be boring. But maybe not. Maybe not.

01. Not an annoyance, just a muse, it's been all about me. As it should have been. I heard the skinny guy telling the weird elderly person that I can't be replaced. Of course not, are you kidding? But there will be another dog to take my place. Not for a while, but there will be. That place is meant for a dog.

I just see all these dogs in apartments in Toronto, what would they think of Kevin's? With all the space. And these people work. One thing I can't get my mind around is why own a dog if you live in an apartment. Obviously it works, but I don't get it.

Reprobates and musings

It's rather nice to have these three reprobates as friends (as well as relatives). Not a bad thing.

When I turn sixty-three, I'm going to get crabby again. I keep thinking that biking has no influence on my life (other than the physical effort put into it). Maybe it does. For the fourth or fifth time I have put off seeing the Doctor. I don't see what good can come from it. But I will go this time. If you don't hear from me for six or seven months, it means I'm under sedation and on whatever life support systems the hospital has to offer. I've already got my hospital room picked out.

I hear Anita talk about how much time she has to spend in a room washing it down, depending on whether the person died from a communicable disease or not. Hello. They will have to torch my room. I wonder what they will do with my brain? I do not want it to be pickled (anyone who's lip even comes close to turning upward in a smile, I will come down there and drive a blunt-edged sword through their sternum).


One of my passions is science-fiction. To me, that is where good writing is at. And of course it gives my mind a little exercise (which is a good thing).

And it seems sci-fi writers don't mind me. Hello. We connect. But the bad thing is I can never find enough books good sci-fi books at my local library. The bike comes in handy, I have sci-fi books out from across the GTA (greater toronto area).


We all knew Karen and Colleen are cute but Robin? In a round-a-bout, stretch ones imagination to the limit kind of way he might be. It wouldn't hurt to be blind either.

I think he's cute, The Rest of the World (TROTW) may not.


A picture of Marcel and Coleen during Marcel's graduation this last May. Today Robin and Karen are leaving for the coast to drive Coleen back to university.

Saturday, August 26, 2006


Wow, Bob sent me this picture before I had a blog. Aren't Lorraine, Jen, Anita, Jen, Col, and Ty cute. As regards Bob and Roy.....they'd make great sumo wrestlers, and they look like they are from Saskatchewan. Not that their is anything wrong with that. And Kev is lying low. That is when I am afraid.


Several great sites/blogs everyone should visit:


I added to the don-book today. Scary. My mind has more in it than I thought. It is so nice to write about my past. Much of it is even beyond Roy because he wasn't there at the time. Interesting, I could write about the era of living on Goat River bottom for a long time. Even then I kept my mind open and observed (sub-conciounsly).

Thank you

Hi Kev

Could you get Ty or Julie to take some pictures of all you guys and send them to me. Make sure every is in it, individually and as a group. Especially you, Anita, Roy, Ty and Col and Jen. If you can, I would appreciate it.

And Ger, I need pics of Justin and you and Karri. Pics of Creston with you guys in them would be great. This is crazy but if someone could take a pic of the house that I lived in next to Centennial Park, wow. Next time I come down there, I'm going to get Roy to take me out and I'll take pictures of all the parts of Creston Valley that were important to me when I was growing up. Some of them aren't even there any more (the sawmill, the high school).

Friday, August 25, 2006

An Eulogy to Max (revised)

How to find the words to describe Max is not easy for me. I've never before had man nor beast want to follow me around and look at me with so much love and so much trust. Max did not have reservations when he loved someone, he just loved them.

A huge part of the 'life' of Kev, Anita, Col and Ty has been spent with Max and they loved every moment of being with Max.

Although Max may have had a different opinion. Has anyone spent an evening with Col, Ty, Kev and Anita watching the Vancouver Canucks?. And how many of these evenings must there have been? At the beginning Max is thinking: 'Yay hah, wow, I'm in love with these people, they are fun, they are exuberiant'. Even after a year or two Max is thinking: 'Not a prob, I'm here, I'll get fed good if go along with it, keep it cool Max and go with the flow, I'll bark at the proper time' At year three Max is thinking: 'I've gotta come up wth a hobby or I'll go crazy, chasing balls and hiding them seems appropriate, they'll think I'm a dog and it's a good excuse to get away from them for awhile". Year Four: 'I'm settling into a routine, every cat that comes near me gets killed within a day or two by the skinny guy who runs around naked at night with a rifle in hand, maybe I'll stay'. Year five: 'These two kids whom have annoyed me for so long are getting big, but the chick whom still feeds me is still nice so I'll stay'. Year six: 'I'm being ignored. I get fed but everyone is going this way and that, hello.' Year seven: 'whom is this elderly person? He seems to be nice. I like elderly persons, they call him grandpa, I call him sweet.' Year eight: 'Another elderly person. This world is getting to be worth living. But he's wierd. He talks to me in a language I can understand.' Year nine: ''here's the wierd old guy again to visit me, he's not bad, looking back on it it's been a good life, with my brown eyes and being able to bend the family at will it was okay, it was a great 'dog's' life and I had a great family (I'm getting maudlin, I didn't know dogs could get maudlin)'. Year ten: It's time.

I will miss Max. Animals aren't supposed to be people, and he wasn't a people, he was much better than that.

Our Own Woodnymph(ette)

A picture of our favourite (and only) woodnymph(ette). She doesn't like close-ups obviously and she apparently shies away from the camera.

Most woodnymph(ettes) like to cavort among the flora and fauna twenty-fours hours a day, seven days a week but ours likes to work for an eye centre during the day, and only likes to cavort on weekends and vacations.

But she makes up for it. Yay haw!!!!

Thursday, August 24, 2006

The Exalted One

This is a picture of The Exalted One fly fishing. He was looking for flying fish. Jim had just spent five days camped at Next Creek communing with nature so maybe he was just looking for civilization. Who knows really.

This is an amazing picture. Jim will age won't he? He's the Storm Clan concience in some ways (of course no ways that I wanna know about). But really, we should all listen to him and follow his example (if we want to lead exceedingly boring lives).

I'm kidding of course. He's a beacon. Ah, now I 'get' this picture of The Exalted One. He is looking towards the future and is thinking: "if they follow me, they will be okay, I will lead them to good food".

Sunday, August 20, 2006

Jim and Ger (I think)

I got out my magnifying glass, and it's them. This picture is them on Next Creek. So-called, I imagine because it's next to Tye. Where Ger and Kerri have a cabin, which they didn't use, but camped next to Next Creek. I think they must be next in line for the looney bin myself.

Ger (revised August 25)

I love Ger. I have to take run and a jump just to get in his truck. But not a prob.

So I get dropped off at Comforts to meet Ger for dinner. Yay. After I've somehow got into his truck he starts talking. I wanted to tell Ger about my life, but he wouldn't let me. Jabber, jabber, jabber, hello, jabber, jabber, jabber, help, jabber, jabber, I have six hours to live before I succumb to cancer, jabber, jabber, jabber. And this was before he even put the key in the ignition.

Jabber, jabber, jabber, ger take a breath, jabber, jabber, jabber: "ger" yes uncle don?" "start the truck". It was good though, it's always nice to know that I'm not the most insane member of the Storm Clan: "Justin?" "yes uncle don" "your dad is weird, well not really weird, insane, and completely out of it" "he's a virgo" "oh yeah, he's weird and insane in a good way, isn't he, I've always admired him".

So Ger left me a phone message last night wishing me a happy birthday. With the accent, I thought it was Chief Sitting Bull (speaking of b.s. and he was probably sitting down at the time).

Top Ten Perks of Turning 61

David Letterman's Top Ten List of Perks of Turning 61.

10. I no longer have to help old ladies across the street.
09. I've already learned everything the hard way.
08. No one bothers to phone me after 9 pm anymore.
07. My joints can predict the weather better than any meteorologist.
06. Spandex doesn't suit me (not that it ever did mind you).
05. I can flirt with the cute gals at work and they never take offence (this very well could be numero uno or even higher, hello). I could go on here, but suffice to say they all treat me good.
04. See above.
03. I'm finally starting to ignore those speedo-clad cyclists whom pass me on the street as I'm biking to work in the morning. And they have these stupid caps on. They are a perfect example of the lower life form. Where are they rushing to? And obviously they don't have jobs. Where do they get the money to buy their great bikes and the stupid clothes they wear? It's a good thing I'm not a cab driver because if I was, they wouldn't exist (at least not in Toronto). And they never smile. I think their spandex must be too tight. I pulled alongside one last week on Bloor: 'hi, nice day aye?' 'huh?' 'nice day' 'huh?' 'do you have a brain?' 'huh?' "it's been nice chatting with you, wherever are you going I wish you would get there'. 'duh'.
02. In my elderly age I'm finally (more or less) able to ignore my neighbours who own dogs. I'm old-fashioned, but I wouldn't mind it if there was a Max or Kodiak among them. I'm never sure who is more uppity, the dogs or the owners. It's normal in my neighbourhood for me to say: 'what breed is that?" And typically I get an answer like"it's a Sheershorn Tibitan Wimpletwit" "whom?" "it's very rare" "does it bark?" "no, not anymore" "does it sniff?" "no" "does it retrieve?" "not that I know of" "What the hell good is it then?" "I can walk it at 4:30 am" "let me get this straight, you have a Sheershorn Tibitan Wimpletwit and it doesn't bark, sniff and/or retrieve and you get up at 4:15 am to walk it?" "someone has to" "you have money to burn don't you?" "scads"
01. Having a mind that still works (knock on wood a thousand times).

The Esteemed Great Grand Poobah

The Great, Esteemed, His Highness, Grand Poobah in a contemplative mood. He's thinking: 'I've only got sixteen more days before I drink again. I'm almost over the hangover from twelve days ago.' And of course: 'why is my house moving?'. Not to mention: 'it's time for my 59th nap of the day'.

It's hard to believe a person of his stature would want to raise Jim, Ger, Kev and Julie.

(editor's note: I've been trying to upload this picture for months but it wouldn't work for some reason. I love this picture. Thank you Julie)

Saturday, August 19, 2006


Not feeling so great this weekend. I will survive. I can pretty well take life as it comes but now my left leg is making it rather difficult to bike. I'm starting to feel like the person in the Monty Python movie. He's only got his head and torso left but he is still ready for the battle.

Saturday, August 12, 2006

God's Country

This is a pic that Robin sent me that he took when he was quading. It continues to amaze me how beautiful that part of the world is.

Here in Toronto, I try to explain to persons at work how nice it is, but I can't do it justice. How does one tell someone that that part of B.C. is far more scenic and varied in it's geography than anywhere else. From Radium to say Riondel, one can see so many different 'kinds' of countryside.

I was impressed with the Cabot Trail, the drive from Banff to Jasper, the drive through Switzerland way back when, going through parts of Oregon and Washington state, but nothing can compare with 'God's Country'.

Relatively speaking, it is still untouched. I personally don't like to see new golf courses opening up, housing developments being built, and new businesses establishing roots (even though new jobs keep the graduating kids at home and/or going to university and then returning home to work productive lives). Let that happen elsewhere (as in the Okanagan). Why does it have to happen there?

Hello (revised)

I'm about to retire to a cave. And that may be too easily found. I just write a few words what I think and I really don't want any responses or feedback. If anyone likes this blog good. It is what I do.

I only have so much time to get everyone in it. Now I got Robin. The Douville, not the bird.

I apologize to Jim, I didn't mean to tell him he looked funny in an Aussie hat.

Presumably not a soul finds what I write interesting. I don't associate with persons who do find it interesting. Because anyone that does should be put away and I will be first one to lock them up. And throw away the keys. I'm slightly neurotic, it doesn't show when I'm out there. It's a good thing someone is. "Jim?" "have you moved in the last half hour?" "Ger?" "would you shut up" "Kev?" "why do you annoy me when you don't even do anything?"

And I'm about to turn sixty-one. Today I'm going to bike through the back alleys of the bad parts of TO, hoping to get stabbed. The problem is that when one is sixty-one, no one wants to stab one. And I'd probably run into an old friend. I can't win.

So I biked to work on Wednesday, and Thursday, and yesterday. Most normal person's would say: "yay, not a bad thing". Not me. On the way home from work (knowing I had a beer or two in the fridge), took the long way home and had to pass everyone on a bike, uphill. And I have go for a check-up next week: "hi Don, ooh you've lost weight" "it's the cancer, it's eating me up" "your heart-rate seems normal" "I've been sleeping for sixteen hours a day lately" "why did you come to see me?" "I'm trying to get on disability" "on whom?" "disability, I walk funny" "so does John Cleese" "but I got the forms for you to sign" "Donald, come back in about sixteen years and be serious then, you are a picture of health" "but I can't walk, I can bike" "exactly, have fun"

Friday, August 11, 2006


Although he can be very, very annoying, Robin isn't that bad. He look's after water, pretend's he knows something about hockey and he likes to think he has some idea about garlic. Actually he know about garlic, wow (see above pic).

Here is of him and Karen at Leo's 70th birthday party. Robin wanted to surround himself with a lot of wine bottles. He realized he is getting old too so he'd better drink up.

Karen, the nicest person in the history of mankind, somehow manages to put up with him. Of course Karen didn't see him in his early age (really early age): Gerry's body was huge and he had a small head and Robin had a big head and a small body. It all worked out, but I wondered at the time. Hello. And they both turned out to be deadbeats, so it's impossible to judge.

Actually Robin has been a good friend for a while, as well as a relative. Someone I can e-mail with no hesitation.

In usison: clap, clap, clap.

Sunday, August 06, 2006

A Sunday Morning Test

I'm drinking coffee and musing about life in general and I'm thinking: can I write anything funny on the blog without having a beer in hand? Nothing is coming to me. Yawn. Well one or two occurances do come to mind.

Col walks into camp and asks: "is Tyler here?" "no" and then he walks back to the highway. Hello. That caused a bit of a stir. And of course Uncle Don, whom only visits The Storm Clan once a year, completely realizes that everything will work out and why get too excited. The family whom actually lives there year-round gets excited. "Ty's dead" "he's been run over by a semi" "I can't take a day off for the funeral" Hello. When will anyone out there realize that these things happen when The Storm Clan gets together? I can predict that winter will arrive and funny things will happen on the July first weekend. Two certainties. And it certainly doesn't hurt that Ty is somewhat odd.

To almost everyone in the world, this would not be a compliment. But I look at Ty and think: He's got a mind like me. And he's quiet. He sits back and observes the world and stores the information. He's got it all figured out. Because the rest of the family certainly doesn't. I can predict with precision the day, the time, and the second when Kev will wonder away from camp. Everyone is saying: "where's Kev? where's Anita? we should worry" Hello. Doesn't it ever occur to anyone in the family that this is a rite for them? I know it's weird but it is what they do. At least now (finally after these many years) Kev doesn't walk to the highway and lay down and wait for a semi to run over him. Even I was annoyed at that. His semi-consciousness has finally learned not to wonder too far away. I don't why Kev would hide under Justin's truck. Some things even I can't figure out.

But that's what makes the canoeing trip special. Some things one can predict but mostly not. Things happen and to this old world-weary uncle, it's a renewal of what I like best about the world. I sit back and enjoy the ride.

Damn, I guess I don't need a beer to write about family. In unison: clap, clap, clap.

Saturday, August 05, 2006

Relax everyone (revised)

I will only move back to Creston if I live on Kev's property in a shack for one (1). With running water hopefully and perhaps a bed and of course a computer hook-up. And maybe a hot plate. And a toaster. A microwave oven wouldn't be bad. And a deck so I can wave to Kev and Anita as they go work in the morning. And a coffee maker. I need that.

And if Anita and Kev, once in a while, invited me to their home, or Ger and Karri invited me over, or Jim and Brenda perhaps wanted me, I probably would accept the invitation (I can't even the imagine the good food I would get). And when they tired of me, I'm not too worrried. Col, Justin and Ty will look after me. Especially Colin. Of course he'll have to borrow money from his Dad to buy the beer so he can visit me. Or maybe not. Ger and Kev sure brought up good kids.

When I fly out there annually, I'll bring one 2 by 4. In 2075, I'll have a deck.

Thank you God, it worked.


I'm not saying that Kev spends a lot of time indoors, but I've seen ghosts with more colour. And don't look at his legs.

If one blots out one's imagination, he could be cute. Maybe not. One thing he has going for him is his kneecaps.

He annoyed me. I thought I was paddling towards the unknown and quite often he wouldn't let me. Once in a while he would, but not near enough.

I wish I was kidding about this, but I'm not. I'm not participating in the canoe trip again unless I have death defying feats. Col and me, or Ty and me would have fun, but Kev (has he applied for old age benefits yet?) is perhaps over the hill. It's not his fault. One does get aged.

A great one is no more. Everyone in the Storm Clan has stories to tell about Kev. He is (sorry, was) the standard of craziness for The Storm Clan. He would do anything. If one ever said: "kev, I bet you can't ski down that" hello. Everyone followed Kev: Neil, Robin, Ger, Jim, everyone. No fear.

Not anymore alas. He eats his campbells soup, and pretends to live out life. Too bad.


Ger didn't send me a pic of himself clothed, so I have to use an oldie but goldie. Completely ignore everything about this picture except Ger sitting, patiently, in a canoe with Karri as they are starting out on Saturday morn. "honey?" "yes honeybunch?" "isn't it a beautiful day, look at that bald eagle, we will have a nice, stressless weekend won't we?" "we will, and I'm starting to fish" hello.

In unison, everyone give Ger a hand: clap, clap, clap.

Coitus Interuptus

Hello. I sometimes write without thinking. And I did that last night. Jesse Green, of the NYT, is a dear friend and he flew to Hollywood last week to interview 'personalities' for five days. And what do I do? Tell him that I'm not interested in any of it and I hope he survives that hell.

He is not happy with me. He said I'm 'unkind'. He is a great writer and I sure didn't mean to demean him. At this very moment, he is flying from L.A. to New York and he is mad at me (he was e-mailing me from his laptop in LAX, I presume). I've never been accused of being unkind before. Maybe it suits me. Where is the whip?

I do write to other writers but I really haven't paid much attention to the words that I write to them. And of course I only laud them. But with Jesse, I let my guard down and told him what I really think. Not a good idea. The Storm Blog is one of the only places I can tell it like it is.

And the most amazing thing is, I had no idea that other people even remotely care about what I write. It's kind of scary because I've got a few sci-fi writers that enjoy hearing from me. But comparing Jesse and sci-fi writers is like apples and oranges. Jesse is a friend and I hope he has forgiven me when he lands in New York.


Jim actually doesn't care if he looks 'cool' anymore obviously. What a nice picture. The up and coming Great Grand Poobah relaxing. With an Aussie hat on. I can't think of anything better, although heartburn comes to mind.

Isn't he cute? In unison, clap, clap, clap.

Friday, August 04, 2006

An Ode (revised)

All right I admit it. I enjoy being around Jim, Ger and Kev. Kill me if you will God. Always have and always will. How many uncles are as lucky as me: none. Me sitting in the back and observing Ger and Kev in the front seat while going to Cranbrook was enjoyable. Brothers? Oh yeah. Storms? Oh yeah. I didn't know how I was going to survive coming back to Toronto, I really didn't. With Ger and Kev and Jim with me on Saturday night, and Kev taking me to the airport it worked out well. Perfect actually.

I'm sure Jim, Ger and Kev have imperfections. Millions of them probably (a conservative estimate). But not to me. If nothing else, I am a good judge of people. Guess what? They are the best. Except I have a theory: "ger?" "yes kev" "if we both go up to Cranbrook, between the three of us, we should be able make sure Uncle Don get's on the plane" "true Kev, he won't be able to double back and be in Creston when we arrive back tomorrow" "exactly, you sleep on the couch and pretend you are sleeping in the morning, Jim will be on the look-out on the deck and I will see him off to the airport". "good plan"

"kev?" "yes uncle don" "I can take it from here, you don't have to carry my bags and why did you give the pilot a tip, and I can do up my own seatbelt" "I just want to make sure are safe, you know these short jaunts to Calgary can be harrowing" "I didn't know you cared"

I hope they read the above and realize that the blogs to follow are not meant in a defamatory way. Hello.

Yay hah

I think this is a great picture (ignoring moi). Finally I have Anita on The Storm Blog. That took a while, thank you Ger. Because of the peculiarties of certain members of the Storm Clan, Anita can wonder off to bed and a certain other member of the Storm Clan will wonder away (although within hearing distance) and/or hide under Justin's truck while blubbering about: "I miss you dear, please come back, I didn't mean it" An annual thing. At least.

A classic

First of all, this picture cannot be used for blackmail purposes. Some members of the esteemed Storm Clan might want to canoe because it quiets the beating heart, soothes the soul and helps them to commune with the flora and fauna.

But not this person. Hello. Not a bad thing really. Karri communed with the river which is good. And I'm sure her heart stopped beating for a moment or two. As far as her soul? Forget it.

This is what life is all about.

Jen and I

This was a deep conversation. I had asked Jen why she was holding a beer bottle cooler holder and a plastic fan. As you can see she was aghast I would ask. "Uncle Don, they both represent cool" "ah, of course, you know Jen, I didn't even know baby duck was made any more, I used to drink it when I was cool a thousand years ago although after one bottle I was usually ready to puke my guts out" "yeh, it's good isn't it, especially if it's cold" "Jen?" "yes Uncle Don" "I hope you don't now or ever will like shooters" "why would you say that?" "well, I've seen you down six or seven bottles of baby duck, how many shooters could you handle?" "fifteen" "fifteen?" "on a bad day".