Hi

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.

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"

Robin

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.

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.

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.

Kev

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

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

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.

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".

Yay

"ger?" "yes" "I like this pic you sent me, I don't remember it being taken" "why am I not surprised about that"

A New Blog

If anyone wants to be bored to tears, I have started a new blog. It's on science fiction writing so don't expect funny. Don't expect science either, I failed science in high school. I resent that by the way. If I would have had a decent teacher I would have been okay. I had a teacher called Mr. Gautier. He was eventually fired and run out of town but, unfortunately, not before he turned me off of science.

Actually thinking about it now, some of the teachers I had at PCSS were not good. I had one great one. A Mr. Robinson (not Adam Robertson). I had him for geography. I was in the front desk and I sat rapt listening to him. Unfortunately he died one summer and I missed him a lot. The only blot on that class was when we were required to make a facsimile of a raft that Thor Hyerdahl sailed on: The Kon Tiki. Mine fell apart before I got it to school. I was in tears but Mr. Robinson was kind enough not to put it out for display.

May I continue a wee bit here? It's funny what people remember. The Vancouver Philharmonic Orchestra came to Creston once and so even the kids from the elementary school got to attend. I was sitting up in the bleachers with friends and I wondered if I would see Bobby walking in. Actually it may have been Jim and Ger. It's a long time ago. When I started at school I always got asked by the teachers: 'are you related to Roy and Marlene?' 'yes' "hmmm'

Continuing on, so I was a clutz in physical education. Why do they call it education? Hello. For a young, fairly nerdy person like me it was hell. Tumbling was really hell. Run up to a springboard and do what over that thing? A sumersault? Hello. Of course I could swim almost before I could walk. And so the very odd time we were able to swim during phys ed, I wowed them.

And I played the trumpet in the high school band. Hello. I was no good. Why I chose the trumpet I'll never know. I should have chose the tambourines. But I got to travel to Trail (where we won the music festival competition, we were on that weekend) and of course I marched in the Kimberley and Creston parades a few times. Thinking back on it, I may have been the first nerd in the history of mankind. And I may have almost been the first 'hippy'. When one is born in 1945, one is going to go through several stages.

By the way, I'm replacing Ger as one my fave people in lieu of Justin. And definitely replacing Kev in lieu of Colin. Jim I can't replace although I'd like to. Kevin took me to the airport and saw me off? Hello. And Ger was sleeping on Jim's couch when I got up Sunday morn? Hello. I sure appreciated that.

By the way, as well as new items being added, existing items will change or be deleted on this blog from week to week. If you miss it, you miss it.

Hot or what

I've never seen a hot spell like this before. Ever. It's only 30 above (49 counting humidity probably). As I always do on Sunday morning, I went out biking. That lasted about six minutes. Even I can't bike in that.

I'm imagining a conversation with Jim if he lived in Toronto: "Uncle Don?" "yes Jim" "I'm moving, bye"

David Letterman's Top Ten

Top ten reasons why Uncle Don shouldn't be allowed to live in Creston:

10. He will get lost and a major search party, costing millions of dolars, will have to be arranged.

9. Six minutes after moving to Creston he will be bored.

8. I'm there for a week and I leave Kev notes on his seat to cheer him up in the morning. If I lived there for a while, I would leave a bomb and so he wouldn't last long.

7. I'd drop in at Creston Optometric Eye Centre every day and annoy Karri.

6. I'd hitchhike to Jim's and be so unshaven, unbathed and rude.

5. When and if I was invited, I'd critizice Anita's food. That would be after I ate her delicious cabbage rolls.

4. I'd embarrass everyone by being normal.

3. I'd impress Jim with my cooking.

2. Wherever she is working, I will meet Jen for a ciggy.

1. I'll die the second day I get there because I will be too happy.

Sunday Morning Musings

Yesterday I paid $150 for a headset so I can listen to my music with clarity. I can no more afford that than fly from here to Toledo. Music is the most important part of my life so I'm not all down on myself for doing that.

This week has been a killer as far weather is concerned here in Toronto. Counting humidity over 40 every day. You think it is bad in Cranbrook Jim. Not even remotely close. I actually biked to work one day last week. I didn't collapse so I can't be in that bad shape.

Julie sent me pics. Great pictures actually. Julie seems to be the only one in the family whom realizes that I love receiving pictures. I can here it now, in unison: "we are too busy, we don't have time" I thought that excuse went out with the Edsel but I guess not. And of course the reason I like to get pics is so I can post them on the blog. I don't think though that anyone can send better pics than what Julie sent me.

I don't know if anyone noticed but I'm not really normal. I sent Bob a short e-mail telling him I was mad at him. So he sends me back an e-mail: "what did I do now?" Someone should take me behind a barn and shoot me. And I phone Kev's place just to check up on him. Not to talk, just to make sure he is okay. I assume by now you all know my quirks and if you don't you are stupid.

I must admit, even I was somewhat taken aback with the great reception I received. Certainly not when I arrived but family seemed to warm to me. Although that may not be true either. Do we really need the hiding under a tire, zooming up a side of a mountain, bickering back and forth between family members? Oh yeah, I forgot it is the Storm Clan. If possible try to be a little more creative next year. I mean really, if I've seen Col zip up a hil trying to fix his bumper once I've seen it a thousand times. And Karri falling into the river was rather passe. And Kev looking at me in the canoe all alone. For gawds sakes I said I need to take a pee as a joke because the rock wall was sheer and I assumed Kev took it as a joke. Hello. But it was boring really. And then Justin jumping off of it. I didn't even know he was up on the sheer wall. And Col doing the rope thing. If any of that was done to impress me, it did. But the problem being is that next year Justin and Col will pretty well have to drown to impress me.

Thousands of time in the past, I have pretended to be shocked by the antics of The Storm Clan, especially Kev. I'm not doing that anymore. Actually Colin did impress me. He did something (although silly and uncalled for). He forgot to let go of the rope. I would have done that
too, but unforunately The Storm Clan is getting rather conservative and so I didn't.

In some ways I want to live at Kev's but I don't want to be bored. So difficult even thinking about it. One thing that has always beem a factor in my life is that it happens. If it happens, it happens. Egad, don't underestimate me out there. Just don't do that. I underestimate me so I don't need others doing it.