Julie is back in the hospital, and has been since last Tuesday. She was there a few nights the week before, too.

She’s actually feeling fine, for someone who is nearing full term pregnancy, and nothing seems overtly wrong. Her blood pressure is higher than they’d like, however, and they want to keep her under observation at the hospital in case anything were to develop.

But, so far it hasn’t. So, the plan is currently to induce Wednesdayish, to time the birth for the 38 week mark, which for us is Thursday.

It’s crazy to have something so big sitting there in my calendar with all my other reminders for events that seem so insignificant by comparison. I’d imagine this is how an astronaut feels the week before launch. My whole life is leading up to that liftoff moment, but in the meantime I need to figure out what’s for dinner.

Anyhoo, just wanted to let everyone know where we are at in these crazy scary awesome cool hard fun times!

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All it takes is 30 seconds and a sharpie. I highly recommend it.

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We’re getting near the end of our wait.

Julie is on bed-rest now. I’ve pared my professional life down to 2 projects, and I am hoping to complete them before the baby comes. I give myself a 50/50 chance on that. My clients know my situation, and backups are in place, so that’s winding down.

This is good, because Julie is really only supposed to get up when she needs to do something I can’t do for her. That is pretty much everything, except for showering and going to the bathroom. In the last few months I have learned I am capable of getting a lot done in a day, but It’s been a challenge. Balancing the home life and the career has led to a few dark moments, but it’s also provided counterpoint to a my career focussed life. Making a ritual of cleaning the kitchen first thing in the morning clears my head, and after a day of squinting at the computer screen imagining how abstract little gears of code mesh, cooking in the evening removes the worky thoughts and replaces them with the smells and colours of a well prepared meal that I can take an ounce of pride in.

One of those dark moments, though, was last Monday night. Julie was in the hospital for a few days last week – she was feeling ill, and the doctors have pegged her at a greater risk for several nasty scenarios. My priority was her, so I dropped the work stuff. I stayed at her bedside, fetching water and trying to keep track of what the doctors were saying. Finally we called in help – my mother in law, Mary, offered to come over to give us a hand. After two days in the hospital, I was becoming aware that we needed it.

That night, she flew out from Vancouver, and I was at the airport in the evening, waiting to pick her up. She never came though – Victoria was socked in with fog, and her plane had to turn around and go home. I was a little bummed about that as the airport is about an hour and a half drive, there and back. Knowing she was coming the next day, however, and that it was only 8pm and I now had the time and energy to put a few hours in at the office lightened my mood.

I extinguished email fires and got some damage control done between 8 and 9:30. I was feeling pretty good as I locked up the office door and the elevator. I went through one of the self closing doors at the end of the hall, and heard it shut behind me. It’s a rough part of town at night, so there is an additional barred gate to go out of after that door. I put my key to the gate’s keyhole, and it didn’t seem to fit.

I have exited through that gate many, many times, and I knew my key worked. It was a strange moment, investigating the keyhole, looking at the key, seeing there was no way they were the same shape, trying the door that had just closed behind me, locked, also barring entry to my usual key. Where’s the undo button?

Essentially I was outside, locked behind a gate on a dark, chilly night with no way out. The space I was in is about 4’ by 10’. I had a laptop with a battery, and a cel phone with 2 bars left. Junkies were walking by, eyeing me up and down, if they noticed me there at all. I didn’t think I’d need to use a toilet anytime soon, but I remember feeling some relief noting there was a drain in the middle of the hallway. I also remember feeling a raging sense of despair at that sense of relief. Damn it! my day was too crappy already for a drain in the hallway to be a good thing. My spouse was in the hospital, I was stressed about work, stressed about home, I’d just spent 1.5 hours driving to the airport and back for no reason, it was 9:30 pm and I had just abandoned a bunch of projects I wanted to keep working on because I was too exhausted and sleep deprived from the previous night’s lack thereof!

I made several calls, and then several more, and then a few more after that, trying to track down someone that could help me. Apparently the building manager had the locks changed, and gave one to the guy I sublet my sublet from, but he didn’t realize it was for all the doors. I spoke with my office mate, and my sublessor, and was unable to leave voicemail in the full mailbox of the building manager. Eventually, I was down to one red bar of battery – I called a locksmith, who said they’d come, but at a $180 hourly rate. “Whatever,” I said, “Just get me out of here!”.

He showed up, eventually. One guy on a busy night. It took him literally about 5 seconds to pick the lock. “These are pretty crappy locks” he said. I concurred. They’d been crappy for me. I gave him my credit card and let him do his worst. I can’t tell you the elation of getting out of there – I would have given up my right arm if he wanted it. Heck, 20 minutes prior, I would have chewed it off if I thought it would have helped.

It was about 11:30 when I walked down the street to get into my van and go home. And while I thought “This has to be one of the crappiest days of my life”, I also took a moment to count my blessings. Really, they are many. The top three:

• Julie, while in the hospital, was fine. She received excellent care while she was there. A short decade or two ago, or in any other part of the world, we wouldn’t be so lucky. Socialized medicine is really working for us right now, as is 21st century technology, and the decedant lifestyle we’ve become accustomed to in the Western world.
• My mother in law was coming to help us out. She is an absolute godsend, and knowing she was with Julie I was able to go back to that office and work the next day, entirely guilt-free, a good 5 or 6 hours. It was the first time that happened in many days. I’m a lucky guy to be with Julie, and having Mary for my mother in law is a big perk!
• Last and not least, I had my cel phone, and it was charged up enough to make the calls I needed to get out. It was a pretty dark and lonely night, but it would have been darker and lonelier if my only option was to scream for help from passers-by.

Not, mind you, that I ever want to do that again!

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I never get tired of these.

We must be getting close, we’re supposed to get these every 2 weeks, and the staff implied they figured the next time for us would be with a different kid.

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It’s actually 33 weeks tomorrow!

We had an ultrasound yesterday – here’s a picture of the kiddo’s face:

In case that doesn’t make much sense, here it is again with the parts labelled. Soon, this information will be the topic of many conversations with the little man!

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I got this in my fortune cookie after my dinner this evening. How did they know?

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Man, oh man, we are in the third trimester.

I just read a few of my older posts, back from when we were trying to get pregnant, and not having an easy go of it. Back then, I really felt like we’d never get to here, and now here we are! Last Thursday marked day one of our 27th week.

Our baby now opens its eyes, can hear sounds, and hiccups (according to various internet sources). I was able to feel it through Julie’s belly several weeks ago, but get this, yesterday I SAW it move. That kid has some guns! Julie was just sitting there, and said, “You have to check this out!”. I did, and from accross the room, was totally able to see the side of her belly bulge out and go back in. Very Ridley Scott, but in a good way.

Being pregnant is fun and awesome and terrifying. I’ve wanted to be a dad for a long time, but I am also aware that the full experience of having kids can’t be explained in a conversation or a book. I am always amazed at friends who have become parents, and what effective people they have to become to rise to the occasion that parenthood presents. I’ve often wondered how they do it all. I guess I am about to find out.

It’s a little bit weird being the dad half of this equation in our culture. It used to be that expectant fathers were supposed to continue as normal, until the day the baby arrived. Then, they were supposed to sit in the pub and wait for the call to find out if it was a girl or a boy. At that point, they were supposed to hand out cigars. That’s the story anyway. I’m not sure if it was ever really just like that, but it isn’t like that now.

Men these days are supposed to take an active role. We’re supposed to be better partners in parenting. We attend prenatal courses, and show support, and are present to help at the birth. Again, that’s the story, but is it really like that, and if so, what is that like?

What does it mean to take an active role? How do I show support? I’ll agree that drinking at the pub and handing out cigars doesn’t really enhance the experience of my family. It doesn’t really help my spouse nor my child, but at least that’s a role that’s definable.

I have a very strong desire to be a good dad, and I am really excited about the coming of this child and I feel I am and should be a part of the pregnancy, but just what I am supposed to do is frequently lost on me. I find myself inventing things. For example:

1. The first thing that occurred to me after Julie told me we were having a baby was, and I am not kidding – I said this out loud: “I have to vacuum!”. At the time it was true. Our carpet was filthy. I didn’t like the idea of a baby crawling around on that. Let alone that we had plenty of time to clean up, and have in fact moved since then.
2. I have changed my handwriting. I think I am getting this one from my dad. He didn’t change his handwriting, but his writing is very elegant and legible. Mine never really was. I think for lack of something else to focus on, my brain decided that this was imperative to do before my kid arrived. While this might seem futile, and I don’t think it’s actually enhanced the experience of my family, I am happy to report it worked. My scrawl used to consist of crude block letters, all capitals, drawn from the bottom up. I now have perfected a cursive script that is legible, and actually takes me less time to write.
3. As I mentioned in my last post, I recaulked the tub.
4. I’ve also been filling in more domestic roles lately. I do most of the cooking and the cleaning these days, as Julie is, at 27 weeks, much less energetic and mobile than usual. Much to my surprise, I’ve been finding I really enjoy that, particularly cooking. I’ve been cutting back hours at the office, which hasn’t been great for the pocketbook, but when chores like those aren’t done late at night, after working a day that’s extended well past the standard 8 hours, I’m finding they can be very enjoyable.
5. I’ve gone to every doctor and specialist appointment with Julie, except for one (we double booked before consulting with eachother). I don’t have much to add to the conversation usually, but Julie says she appreciates me being there.

And maybe that’s “showing support” and “taking an active role”. Apparently that’s how I am defining it. That works for me just fine, and so far as I can tell, Julie thinks I’m doing alright. I frequently say “we’re pregnant”, and that’s how I like to think of it.

Still, there are times when it’s really apparent that I am not pregnant. I was the one who coordinated getting into our prenatal classes, for example, (at an outfit called Mothering Touch – perhaps this was a clue). I entered my information on a web form, and they called me back the next day. The person who called was flummoxed by the fact she was dealing with a me, a male, to set up the course. The first thing she did was to ask to speak to “Mom”. I was on my cel at work, so I told her I could give her another number if I had to. She was willing to let me tell her when our baby was due and what course dates would work for us, and it all worked out fine, but but it was apparent in that moment what was expected of me, and it wasn’t to have a role in this part of the pregnancy.

And that’s the weird thing I am finding in the experience of expectant fatherhood in this day and age. There’s a desire and a hope in this culture that men will be more active as parents, but the expectation is that they probably won’t. There isn’t a defined role for us to play – it’s a choice at every turn. There’s also biology at play here – Julie is very definably pregnant right now. I have to opt in to identify as pregnant. Once I do, I get to define that role as I please (with some help from the other half of this equation).

I can remember wanting for us to be pregnant, and thinking I’d blog about every detail, but I find myself a little short on details. I’m kind of making them up as I go along, and they don’t seem exciting enough to blog about. Seeing the baby move, that was a remarkable detail. Making a casserole last night, not so much. That said, it was mighty yummy!

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One thing I keep on meaning to make an entry about one of these days is the current mindset of this expectant father. The theme is something like this – “I know I need to do something, but I don’t know what”.

Well, I’ve been finding myself motivated to do stuff – all sorts of stuff, and once I get it in my head, it seems really important I get it done now, lest I be a bad, bad father. The other day, that thing was recaulking the tub. As you’ll see in the pictures, though it really was no place for an infant before the recaulking.

I should point out that the following documentation is based on instructions I found here

What You’ll Need:

1. Utility knife with regular blades and hook-shaped blades
2. Vacuum Cleaner with Crevice Tool
3. Silicone Remover
4. Isopropyl Alcohol
5. Masking Tape
6. Caulk
7. Caulking Gun
8. Paper Towel

Step 1 – Buy a Property with a Really Gross Tub

This part is harder than it might seem. Not all properties will have a tub of the required disgustingness to really make you feel good about doing this job. If you get a place with a tub that is only mildly disconcerting, for example, you endanger yourself to the risk of never getting around to it. My standards are so low, we managed to live here for 5 months before I motivated myself to get this done.

Step 2 – Remove the Old Caulk with a Utility Knife

I found a few techniques that worked well in different spots. In most spots, I could carve out a V shaped groove and just whittle it out along the seam.

Along the edge of the tub, there was frequently thin film of caulk on the tub. In those cases, scraping at it with the edge of the utility knife blade flat on the surface worked well to remove it.

In other spots, the old caulk had gotten very hard with age. (Ahem.) In those places, this hook shaped knife was helpful in loosening it off, and then pulling it out. Otherwise, it had a tendency to get pushed in further.

When I was done, the edge looked messy, but void. There was just a big dark gap between the tile and the tub.

Step 3 – Clean Up The Old Caulk Bits

After going at it with a knife, there was a satisfying amount of grody old bits in the tub. They’ll just get in the way for the next few steps though. I used a vacuum cleaner to remove them, and then with the crevice tool attachment on, went at the join. There were a lot of bits in there that the vacuum got out that I don’t think could have been removed otherwise.

Step 4 – Use Silicon Remover

I bought Dap Silicone-Be-Gone at Home Depot. It worked well to get the little filmy bits off that I couldn’t with the knife. The jar comes with a brush, and you basically just brush it on, leave it for a couple of hours, and then clean it all off with soap and water.

I think it is important to clean it off really well – this stuff is meant to dissolve silicone, and after it’s cleaned off, that’s exactly what is re-applied!

Step 5 – Clean the Edge Thouroughly

After removing the silicone remover, I washed the tub with comet scouring powder, and finally with isopropyl alcohol, just to be sure the surfaces were free of any residue.

Step 6 – Mask The Join

Using painter’s tape, mask off on area about 1/4 inch away from the edge on both sides – the tub and the the tile. I rolled my eyes when I read about this step, thinking that I could lay a bead of new caulk down without making a mess, but found that to be completely untrue. Whoever did this job before didn’t use masking tape, and it showed. Filmy bits of silicone were everywhere. Masking prevents that entirely.

Step 7 – Fill the Tub with Water

Water is heavy, and the tub is flexible. Filling the tub with water will increase the size of the gap, and filling with it at it’s maximum size will prevent pulling on the caulk (ahem) later.

Step 8 – Apply the New Caulk

I used GE Silicone II Kitchen and Bath in White. Make sure to look at the colour when you buy it. I didn’t – I bought clear and had to go back and exchange it. I also bought the gun, and would recommend getting the better model instead of the cheaper one. I’ve used cheap ones in the past, and trust me, it’s worth the $2-$5 upgrade.

The nozzle should be cut at a 45 degree angle. After the nozzle is cut, poke the membrane in the tube with the poker on the caulking gun (mine is on the handle).

There is no easy way to tell you how to caulk the tub without making a mess – I’ll just warn you that it is a messy business and give you these tips:

• have paper towel handy. It will help you to clean the tip of the tube after you are done, and any spot you might dribble while going through this process.
• with the slanted nozzle cut against the tub, gently squeeze the trigger and move the gun along, with the nozzle pointing reverse to the movement of the gun
• if you see you’ve left a gap, just keep moving in a long smooth motion. You can fix it later, but stopping to mess around mid-stream will apply the caulk more unevenly than going back now.
• you can always lay down a second pass – don’t worry if you don’t lay as much as you’d like on the first one. It’s better to err on the side of not enough on the first pass.

Step 9 – Clean the Edge with a Wet Fingertip

I think the wetting is supposed to keep the silicone from soaking into your skin. I’ll be honest, by the time I was done, I don’t think it made much of a difference.

Having just applied a bead of caulk into the gap, now you’ll want to smooth that edge out and press the new caulk down to fill that gap more by running your finger along it. This is where the masking tape shows it’s usefulness – if you find you have excess, it can be squeezed onto the tape to be removed later.

Step 10 – Remove the Masking Tape

Wait about 15 minutes to let the caulk set partway, then remove the tape. Be sure to pause to admire your beautiful work!

The caulk should be tack-free in 3 hours, but isn’t fully cured and shouldn’t be used as a shower or bath until 24 hours has passed.

In my tub I went from this:

To this:

This was gratifying, but you might note the paint peeling off of the tile where I cleaned up the edge. I know what you are thinking – paint on tile? That’s crazy! It might be, but that’s how it was when we bought the place. I’m was too lazy to replace the tile, so I just laid another coat of paint on top. That’s another story, but if you are looking for paint to apply to tile, it was recommended I use Melamine paint, and I did, and it seems to have worked well. Melamine is actually a type of plastic. It’s oil based and therefore stinky, but it’s very, very sticky, and was a lot easier than replacing the tile!

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There is this sculpture of a dragon, across the street from my office. He’s clutching a golden orb in one claw, his mouth agape.

Every time I see it, I hear Robert Plant’s plaintive cry from Led Zeppelin’s “Immigrant Song”.

I made a website, well really, a web page to show you all what I mean. You can find it here: http://www.aaaeeeaaa-aaa.com.

I really hope Mr. Plant and Mr. Page take this as a compliment, and don’t sue me for every meager penny I have.

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I mentioned a few posts ago that I took a woodworking course in February. Here are a few photos of the project I built in class – a blanket box made of pine.

I developed a new respect for tablesaws in this class. We did bevels, rabbet and dado joins with them.

We started from raw lumber, laminating boards to make the top, bottom and sides. Plenty of thickness planing and sanding – but it wasn’t so bad – we used machine tools for nearly all of it. When I took my guitar making course, years ago, it was mostly with hand tools.

The course I took was Woodworking level 1 at Camosun College with Russ Franson. It was a great course. Russ mentioned that woodworking had been in his family for as many generations as he knew.

He mentioned that he learned many of these skills from his great-grandfather, who had a shop where he built coffins.

When he mentioned that, I think I knew where he got the idea for the project he had us all build, but I think I’m still calling mine a blanket box.

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From Mike Lathrop’s Personal Blog

Hey! How about a non-reproductive related post for a change?

Best graffito ever. Not sure if it was taken as a compliment, but I’d bet it was intended that way.

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We had an ultrasound this morning. Here are some photos of our wee baby boy!

This one is just the foot. Near as I could tell, I counted 10 fingers and 10 toes.

Here is a creepy photo of our fetus’s skull. Nothing about that sentence, nor this image, isn’t creepy, but look how adorable!

It’s a trip.

We’re pretty much all on board with this little feller (now a confirmed accurate description). We were standoffish before – we worried about the let down if something went wrong. It occurs to me more and more though – parenthood involves a lot of worrying, and that’s probably just the way it is. All I seem able to do is to have faith it will all turn out okay, whatever that means, and to do what I can to make sure everything is okay for now. This morning, I saw everything was okay. Next week, I might start to wonder again. The realization I’ve had though, is that when this child is born, that’s just a whole new set of worries to consider.

The likelihood of a problem with this pregnancy is getting more and more remote. And we saw it moving around. The poor technician was chasing it all over in Julie’s womb. I’ve seen photos like these before, but watching the head turn back and forth, seeing the arm go up to touch it’s head, seeing the legs move made this thing more and more person like.

Oddly, so does knowing the gender. Seeing the images of the fetus move makes me see it as more of a person. Being able to add the personal pronoun, “he” instead of “it” makes him much more personlike also. I’d like to think that knowing the gender wouldn’t make that difference so apparent, but it really does. To a degree, knowing whether it is a girl or a boy is the difference between accepting it as a person rather than a thing. Maybe this represents something I need to work on, maybe it’s something our culture needs to work on, or maybe it’s fine to attach personhood to gender. Food for thought. I don’t think I’ll be able to solve that one today.

In any event, it pleases me to know any more detail about this little guy, and I can’t wait to meet him in person!

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It’s been a while since my last post, and I have much to write about. I’m not writing it all now though.

I was just talking to a friend, and she was worried about the bublet (which is what we are affectionately calling the human to be in Julie’s tummy). She was concerned because she hadn’t heard anything here for a while.

We are in week 2 of the second trimester now, and so far as we know, all is still well. Julie feels barfy and tired much of the time. It’s weird to say it, but speaking for myself anyway, that fact brings some comfort that everything is probably going well.

More later…

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It’s getting hard to not to be excited. There is now photographic evidence of the wee one.

The grey blob in the green oval is an ultrasound image of our fetus. Good thing I am not a ultrasound tech, because I would have presumed it to be a half-digested lima bean. Nonetheless, the REAL technician identified a heartbeat, purring along at 175 bpm. I think anxiety wise, Cletus the fetus might take after it’s father.

We were so excited we had some photos taken at a quaint little studio in the corner of the Mayfair Mall food court.

A good day was had by all. Fingers are still firmly crossed, and all good vibes are still appreciated.

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We had an ultrasound this morning when we went to see a specialist. I saw the little feller’s heart beating. So tiny, so fragile, so fast and so undeniably present.

This is a big event – it means that the fetus is viable, and that things are going as well as they can. We haven’t been this far yet.

The specialist said that before we saw the heart beat we had a 60 – 70% chance of seeing through to a successful delivery. Seeing the heartbeat, however, has improved our odds to about 95%.

Those are good odds, and I am freakin’ giddy.

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Late last year, we had a miscarriage and I blogged about it. In that entry, I said that the next time, I was going to share the news of a new pregnancy right off the bat, because, well, in the event that the pregnancy didn’t make it all the way through, I’d want to blog about it anyway.

And then Julie got pregnant again, but then she wasn’t after a few days, before got the chance to make an entry. A month later, and the same again. The truth is, over the last year, Julie has been pregnant more often than not. The first time, I didn’t blog about it because I didn’t get the chance. The next time though, I wanted to wait and see.

Julie is pregnant again. I am not announcing that with the confidence and certainty that I’d like to, but that’s because I am neither confident nor certain. Experience has shown me that early pregnancies don’t always pan out. In our case, it hasn’t panned out yet. Right now, we’re on week seven. We haven’t been this far along since the miscarriage in the fall. That experience really took it’s toll on us, so it’s hard to feel excited, because I know the more excited I feel, the harder it will be if things don’t go how I want them to. Still, I am very hopeful.

It’s an odd quandry. I decided I want to tell the world about the big news when it came a few months ago, and now it’s here. I don’t like keeping secrets at the best of times, let alone when it’s something big like this, something that I really want to happen. I want to process this experience with others. It’s in my thoughts all the time.

But you know what? I haven’t hardly told anyone. Last weekend I was in Vancouver, and I saw many of my nearest and dearest friends, and I didn’t mention it to anyone. I thought I was waiting for the perfect moment to mention it, but then I saw a few moments like that come and go in conversation, and I chose not to say anything.

For example, I had breakfast with my usual buddies on Sunday morning. I am very comfortable with these people, I’ve known everyone at that table for at least 8 years, and some for nearly 20. I was talking enthusiastically about my new apartment. Someone asked about what we’d do with the second bedroom. I said, “We might use it for a little one, if one comes along”. That’s where I could have mentioned that “little one” might already be on it’s way, but I didn’t. Instead that theoretical “little one” just hung in the silence for a little too long, then the subject changed.

Here’s why. It’s because I am ambivalent about our current pregnancy. I am totally excited and really want it to work. I am trying hard to put good vibes out there, and to have faith that good things can happen, that this time it all might work out. I am, at the same time, worn down. We’ve had a lot of ups and downs in this process, and while we’re hopeful, the end is not yet clearly in sight. After nearly a year on this rollercoaster, I am starting to get a little numb.

The few people I’ve told were aware of our miscarriage last fall, and so when I tell them we’re pregnant again, I can see that they are trying to figure out what to say. It’s a bit awkward. I can also see that they are trying to gauge where I am at, to pick up a hint as to how they should react. I think my ambivalence is apparent, and it makes an awkward situation more awkwarder.

So, now I am putting it out there. Read it as you will. Now it’s not a secret, and for me, that’s a relief. Whatever your persuasion is on things mystical or religous, any good thoughts aimed in our direction are appreciated.

I’ll keep you posted.

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Are you familar with the video blog of Ze Frank? There was one entry that resonated with me that you can find here. In it he talks about how it’s a good idea to check in with yourself and figure out which version of you showed up today. He calls it finding your baseline, and I need to do that today.

My apartment is messy and yet unpacked. It’s frustrating trying to find a place for everything. One of our goals is to not own anything we don’t have a place for. Right now, I think things with places are the exception, not the rule. It’s getting better, but I wish the progress was faster. Moving really makes one understand that ownership of something is not always an asset. In fact, it is frequently a liability.

I walked to work today. Since moving, I walk to work most days. I think I’ve only driven 2 or 3 times so far this month. Weather is getting nicer, and the walk clears my head before the day starts, not to mention the obvious health benefits. Yesterday I woke up, trying to figure out what that feeling was in my lungs. I couldn’t place it. It felt familiar and good. My lungs feel bigger. They feel more like they did when I was younger.

I spend about $5 every day on coffee. That adds up.

Work without travel is starting to feel normal. Projects I take on now aren’t necessarily bigger, but they do tend to be longer. The urgency isn’t there to meet a hard deadline fast. I have more concurrent projects, each taking up less attention. The good news is I’m finding it easier to leave work at the office when I go home at the end of the day, and that is what I really wanted to accomplish. I’m sitting at my desk right now, thinking about the first step in managing the concurrent projects I have. I am looking forward to narrowing my attention to one of them for a while, before I meet a milestone and switch to the next.

I had my best tax season ever. Not that I like paying tax, quite the opposite, but this year my accountant told me I was the first to get all my stuff to him, and that never happens. I dislike “doing” taxes more than paying them. It’s one thing to have to pay a big bill. It is quite another to spend days and weeks trying to get familiar enough with a very complicated system to feel confident enough to apply your interpretation of it to your specific situation. That houseplant you bought for the office but then took home, is it an office expense, office supply, or neither? It depends on your interpretation, like how the meaning of an interpretive dance does. Over the course of the last year I made it my goal to make the whole process of taxes as easy for myself as I could. When February rolled around, I already had pretty much all my documents sorted and ready to go – this was a first for me and now I’m all proud of myself.

I’m healthy. I’m frustrated with my never-ending move. I’m settling in to a new strategy with my business, but still a little rattled by the change. I’m on a self-esteem high because I managed my tax challenge effectively. I’m in the mood to focus on work and get lost in it for a while.

This is my baseline.

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I wrote this originally on March 14th, behind stage at the Pattison Conference this year. I just found it as a text file while cleaning up my PC desktop.

I am writing this from behind stage on what will likely be my last time here at the Frank Sinatra compound as a Staging guy at the Jim Pattison Partners in Pride Executive Conference.

This is a very bittersweet time for me. This is my 10th year on this show, and I really like working with the crew, and the delegates of the conference.

Including myself, 3 of the 6 crew here in 2008 were there in 1999 on my first show. Several others have come and gone in that time, and I have made great friendships and contacts with many of these folks.

And, it’s not everyday a guy like me gets to rub shoulders with the presidents and executives of companies like Ripley Entertainment and the Overwaitea Food Group. I’m now on a first name basis with Jim Pattison, the owner of this conglomerate which is now the 3rd Largest Private company in Canada, and his executive assistant of 45 years, Maureen Chant.

Every even year, like this one, the conference is a little smaller, and is held in a tent on the tennis court at the former estate of Frank Sinatra, which Jimmy acquired in 1995. It’s always a bit of a surreal experience, and this year is no exception.

Jimmy likes to have personal contact with us. He’s come backstage and to our lunch table and regaled us with tales of hosting Oprah Winfrey and Steadman on his yacht, and what the corporate culture is like at Wal-Mart. Apparently, they have over a dozen jets, but as part of their lowest-price cost cutting creedo, executives pack their own brown bag lunches when they fly on them, and their are signs in the hallways of their offices that warn potential suppliers that if any offers of perks in the form of gifts or entertainment tickets will result in the termination of their accounts. “They practise what they preach” said Jimmy, “They are in the news a lot, but they are good, good people”.

He was pretty excited about his magazine distribution company, The News Group, into Wal-Mart’s stores. They have been working on this for the last 10 years. The News Group’s calls weren’t returned for the first 5 years, and for the second 5, the calls were returned but they always declined. When they got the job, Jimmy told us there were three reasons they got the business. Persistence was first, and the deal they offered was second. The third thing they said was that the News Group’s behaviour was always professional. Jimmy remarked that in that 10 years, they did not once disparage their competitors, but instead just focussed on their strengths.

This gig has been a part of my life for so long that this year, I got to enjoy February in a whole new way. I wasn’t very involved in production of the show like I usually have been. I really only contributed about 18 seconds to the 15 minute show, of which 12 seconds made it in. I worked 40 hour weeks, meeting my other client’s needs, not th 60 or 70 hour weeks exclusively on this show like I have the past. I even had time to take a woodworking course over the 6 weeks before the show. That was pleasant, but it felt a little strange. February is normally a dark month with less daylight in this part of the world, but I actually got to see the sun occaisionaly for the first February in a while.

So I am sitting backstage right now, passing time while Jimmy’s latest acquistion, Guinness World Records, is giving their presentation. Tomorrow I’ll do the awards show like I usually do, then I’ll fly home on Sunday on Jimmy’s private jet After a few days of recovery, I’ll start to work on the several web related projects I have lined up for the last week of this month, and start packing to move in to our new home at the end of this month.

The move and the decision to stop travelling mark a commitment to a big change in my life. I think it’s positive – we want to start a family and I don’t want to be out of town for that, and we want to be in Victoria, and we like it here. That said, any change to something new involves some separation from what there was before, and there are many things about the Pattison Show and life in Vancouver that were really great, and I am going to miss dearly.

I never thought I would have said this a few years ago, but the Pattison Show is very much one of them.

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It’s been a while.

I don’t know why.

Been busy, been moving, bla bla bla. For whatever reason, I haven’t been blogging. I keep wanting to, but I think I start to forget how.

I keep thinking, I need to write an entry about this, or about that, and then I think about how it could be a great entry, and then I think about how I am not up to writing a great entry right now, and then another day goes by.

So I am writing this entry, I think, to prove that an entry doesn’t have to be great to be written. I can just sit down and start typing and lo, the blog lives.

And now that I am doing it, I remember that it is comforting to sit and tap at the keyboard. It gets the wheels turning. It gets me to start thinking about stuff.

Like, how since I last wrote, I’ve changed a bunch of stuff in my life. Notably, I we have moved. I am really committed to living in Victoria now. We bought a home. This was a big dream of mine for a long time, and I am really happy we did it. I feel differently, and better, about the place in which I live.

I also worked on-site at a corporate show in a remote place for the last time. This is something I had been talking about getting out of for a long time, and now I am out of it. This also feels good, mostly, but I already miss the camaraderie I used to share with the great people I used to work with. I’ll retain friendships and business relationships with many of those folks, but hanging out in a living room or restaurant or working on something over the phone and via email in my office is just not the same as being present, with a team, under pressure, on site at a corporate show.

So much of change, and it’s all good change, but any time one starts something new, it usually means a loss of something old, and regardless of how good the change is, there is a part of you that mourns that loss, just a little.

So it turns out I do know why it’s been a while. Things have been changing. Life has been up in the air, and the blog fell by the wayside. I think the fact I am sitting here typing now is an indication that things are settling down. That feels good.

And I remember now that an entry doesn’t have to be great to be written. It’s not why I have this blog. I remember now now why I do this. It’s because I like to write little tidbits like this one every now and again. So whether it’s a great entry or not doesn’t matter much to me – it’s really just the process of putting thoughts down on paper. Or on screen. On the web. Wherever. Just not in my head anymore.

I can’t seem to do without an audience though. Thank you for reading this far!

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The papers are signed, the dealing is done, and the place, or at least the mortgage, is ours. Julie and I are now the proud new owners of a 2 bedroom + den apartment located near Quadra and Hilliside.

Here is a link to a short video I made during the housing inspection.

In 1984, when the complex was constructed, they erected two buildings side by side. The developer named one WestHampton Green and the other WestHampton Gardens, so I’ve just been calling it our place in the Hamptons.

We are very excited. I am very excited. We weren’t ready to buy when we lived in Vancouver, and it was demoralizing to keep watching housing prices become more and more unattainable. Our move to Victoria was motivated by Julie’s education, but the condo market here is a more forgiving, and we figured that getting into a place we owned would be a side benefit. I have no idea what housing prices are going to do in the future, other than probably go up in the long term, but I do feel we got in just in time – if prices rose much more we’d continue to have to rent, and I am pleased to not have to worry about that anymore.

The day we went to first look at the place, I noticed a map in the glove compartment of my minivan. This was the same map Julie and I used when we took the ferry to Victoria to check out the city a month or two before moving here. It had a circle that went around the intersection of Quadra and Hillside and it was labeled “Good Area”. We drove all over, and this was the only area that received that designation. Here, “Good Area” meant good to us. It’s colourful. There are ethnic restaurants, coffee places, and the cheapo reperatory cinema nearby. It reminds us a little of Commercial Drive in Vancouver, which had a very hippy-dippy liberal feel with many immigrants and fantastic restaurants. I can’t say Quadra Street Village is an equivalent of Commercial Drive, because it just isn’t similar enough, but it does have some of that feel, and that appeals to us. That said, there are a few street urchins around, but for me the good outweighs the bad, and I feel very comfortable in that neighbourhood.

It’s a close walk to downtown. Google maps puts it at 2.1 km away from my office, and it’s less than a block away to the nearest supermarket too. We’re hoping to decrease our dependence on automobiles. This was a very conscious choice. We may have been able to get a much larger place, maybe even a detached house if we rented the basement, had we been willing to commute from the boonies. I’d like to say that I don’t want to drive for altruistic planet-saving reasons, but the fact is, I really just like having extra time in my day, and walking is good for me. I’ve put in commuting time for jobs in the burbs in the past, and I just don’t feel the benefits of a house would outweigh the hours and hours of my life I’d spend behind the wheel to make it happen. I may change my story after we have a few whippersnappers of our own running around the wee apartment, but I’ve met and talked with several people who have experienced and enjoyed family living in condo, and I am confident enough to give it a try. I have a feeling that my time spent with kiddos instead of in the car would be worth more to them than a backyard. With fingers crossed, we’re hoping to have a chance to find out.

The experience of buying the place was more complicated than I thought it would be, and I am glad to have it behind us. I thought we’d make an offer, they might counter, and it would be done. In fact, we made an offer, they accepted, we reviewed the strata documents and saw an special assessment coming down the pipe, and opened negotiations with a new lower offer to reflect that, They countered that, we countered their counter, they rejected our counter-counter, so we accepted the first counter. Then they had a lawyer change the standard agreement on one point, and we disagreed with the broadness of that change, and we countered with different wording, and they accepted.

During all this, I think there were three or four times where I thought, as I signed a piece of paper, “This is it! we’ve bought a house”, but that was only true on the last round, when all 4 required signatures hit the page. This was mostly handled by our realtor, who was dealing with their realtor, who was dealing with the two sellers – the one who was in town, and the other who was on vacation in Mexico and had to be faxed all of this paperwork. It was a long, nail-biting week, but eventually we all agreed and good business was done.

Speaking of our realtor, If you ever need one in Victoria, I have to highly recommend ours. Paul Holland is an absolute godsend to folks like us who need to navigate the complicated, rewarding, and dangerous experience that is buying a home. I came into this experience thinking that it was inconceivable that a Realtor could add value to a real estate deal equivalent to the commission they received, but Paul disproved that entirely. He was pickier than us. We looked at 11 places in total over a course of 6 months, and he never gave us a hard sell. In fact, he was more likely to tell us the reasons not to buy a place, and he shared with us a great deal of expert knowledge we didn’t even know existed. He is patient and understanding, and very willing to take the time to explain what he knows, and he will also tell you when he doesn’t know, rather than changing the question or the subject. Paul also put a lot of time into our deal – enough that I had to change my previous opinion about realtors. He met with strata members, property managers, realtors, building inspectors and mortgage brokers on our behalf. He read countless pages of very dry strata meeting notes with a fine tooth comb in great detail. I know this because I did too, and he knew them better than I did. His expert advice is extremely valuable, and he puts in the time and diligence to make sure he knows he is doing the best he can in the interest of his clients. I might sound effusive, but it is only because of how much better I feel moving into my first home that I know is a result of his service.

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