it's not nice to laugh at another's misfortune

Over the weekend my Part Time and I took one of our touring trips around Alberta.  So far this summer we have gone southwest toward Longview, over through Eden Valley and then north to Cochrane.  What a gorgeous drive.  We bumped in to a couple that was from Providence, Rhode Island and the first question that the lady asked us was if we had seen any elk or bear.  Not quite the season for them to be out and about, but even if I had seen any, I would definitely have left them alone.  Another trip we took was east over to Drumheller and a tour through dinosaur country.  We stopped at the Royal Tyrrell Museum for a tour through their facility which was pretty interesting and also stopped to tour an abandoned coal mine.  The conditions that the men worked in were pretty bad, but I guess you take what you can get when there's a depression on. 
This weekend we decided to go west and then north to see if there was some wildlife about and to check out the fall colors on the trees.  Ya right.  I had told Part Time that if the leaves were falling in the city, they were definitely gone in the mountains.  Of course, I was right (again).  The leaves were all down and any wildlife that may have been around must have heard that we were coming and got camera-shy.  Oh well, it was a nice day for a drive.  We had gone west to Lake Louise and after 2 cups of tea before I left home and a coffee with breakfast, it was time for a rest break.  We had pulled off the highway into Louise and then turned right toward the entrance of a gas station.  As we were going to turn right in to the station there was an older gentleman on a Harley going to turn left to get back on the road.  This guy was only going about walking speed and looked horribly wobbly and when he looked up and saw us coming he all of a sudden kinda got it together and hit the throttle.  Well hell.  He almost hit the front of the truck, went flying across the road, legs flying out the back, and right into the ditch.  I asked PT if we should go see if he was ok and he said absolutely, slammed the truck in park, hit the hazards and jumped out.  I figgered that it was probably best if the truck wasn't left in the middle of the road and got out to move it.  There was a guy in his 20s that had seen what happened and he went over to help.  I couldn't see anything other than the bike and thought that maybe the old guy had launched himself into a tree and was getting ready to call emergency services when I saw PT and the young guy lifting the bike up.  Turns out the PT had thought the same thing as I did until he heard a little voice saying 'Hurry please'.  The guy was under his bike and couldn't lift it off himself!  His leg was pinned under it at the ankle and he's pretty lucky that somebody saw him go over the edge.  After he was set free, he was rattled enough that he didn't even want to get back on and PT told him that he didn't want the girlfriend to come over and advise him about getting back on when you get bucked off, even if you are riding way too much horse for your ability.  My question is how the hell did you make it all the way out to Lake Louise from Manitoba in one piece, and how the hell are you  going to make it to Vancouver?!?!
Not nice, I know, but we giggled all the way from Lake Louise around a loop that included Rocky Mountain House, and then back to the city. 

the stinky end

Ever since I got my first pomeranian I've pretty much had a dog sleeping on the bed.  After that one passed away, I tried to get Harley to sleep with me but she did such a waltzing Matilda act, that I had to kick her off.  The Buddha never did learn to get on the furniture never mind the bed, but she was big enough that maybe that was a good thing.  Buddy came to live with us shortly after Piggy passed so I once again had a little bed partner.  One of the things that I could never figure out was why the stinky end always ended up facing me and not the other way.  I had an AHA moment in the shower the other day that explains the whole nine yards.  I got the stinky end because the head end was facing the bedroom door in case of attack from the dragons.  PHEWF, at least I know I'm covered.  The only one so far that hasn't consistently given me the stinky end is Jazz.  She most often ends up curled up on the passenger side pillow, sometimes the stinky end to me, and sometimes crossways, back to the pillow and kicking me.  'Course she only seems to do that when she's had too many beers. (just kidding, she doesn't even like the smell of it)

I used to lift the covers up when it was cold and ask the Pig if she was cold and invite her under the covers.  It got to the point where all I had to do was lift the covers and ask her if she was cold and she'd bail in and stay there all night.  And they say that a hot brick is the best bed warmer around!  I ended up with some kind of wicked flu once that laid me out for 4 days.  She stayed in bed with me the whole time.  We'd get up to go to the bathroom and then straight back to bed.  Actually all of them are the same way.  If I'm not feeling well they seem to know it and stick by me until I'm feeling better.  Get up, go to the bathroom, and then down the hall to get back to bed.
Niki and Jazz have it figured out that if I get up and don't put my bathrobe on and then just let them out, it's back to bed with us.  They go out, drop their butts and then right back to the door to come in.  They don't even stop to have a drink of water and usually beat me down the hall to the bedroom.

my job

I'm often asked what I do for a living.  When I respond that I'm an estimator and project manager for an electrical contractor, I quite often get that blank stare that tells me that this description isn't computing so I'll enlighten you.  As an estimator, I look at the electrical portion of the blue prints and tell you how much this project is going to cost you electrically.  That includes going out for pricing on the distribution (panel with breakers, etc.), lighting, fire alarm, and any incidentals such as floor boxes, data and telephone.  After that, I need to figure out how much the conduit and wiring, and devices such as plugs and switches are going to cost.  Then I have to assign a labor factor to each of these elements to come up with a total package price, installed.  Sometimes on 'closing day', (the absolute latest time you can submit your pricing or it goes directly in the trash and you have just wasted not only your time, but your employer's money) it gets pretty hairy with distributors sitting on their pricing until the last minute. 
Not long ago we closed a job for the Calgary Police Service that required 9 (!) separate pricies, not to be included in the base bid price.  Usually jobs close at 2pm, sharp, but this one closed at 4.  Ok, no worries.  Ya right.  Looked good on paper!  You would think that with 2 extra hours to put their number together, we'd be ready to go at 2:30-3:00 latest.  NO!  Pricing and a bill of material started coming in at 1 from one of the suppliers and because I was limited to 2 suppliers due to existing equipment, I was starting to get twitchy waiting for something to come from the other one.  The first guy's final pricing came in at 2:30 and the other guy?  Not until 3:20.  NICE..................... now I have to go through the bill of material, do a comparison to ensure that they have everything I need, and that I'm comparing apples to apples, break out my prices for the separate pricing required, complete my tender documents and get my pricing in.  What I do can be extremely stressful at the best of times, but that one was hairier than any I've put together before.

As a project manager it's my job to make sure that materials are delivered to site in the order required to make the project be completed on time.  Little things like making sure that the main distribution is delivered before the basement is closed in, the fixtures are delivered after the drywall is up, sanded and painted, and the ceilings are ready to have them installed.  It's also my job to coordinate man-power so that I have the required forces to complete the job in a timely manner without flooding the man-hours charged to my job.  On top of that add managing change orders (changes to the scope of work that may impact the cost of construction), attending site meetings to discuss the progress of the project ands dealing with the general contractor.  Phewf!  I know, that's a mouthful, but I love it.  Busy, busy, busy is how I like it.  It makes the days go very fast.
When I first came to my current employer, the first job that I estimated was a job called Heritage Park Expansion that incuded some parking lots and lot lighting, 10,000 square foot Haskayne Mercantile Block which is administration on the second floor and retail on the main floor, and the crown jewel of the project, 75,000 square foot Gasoline Alley which is a museum of antique cars, banquet facility and a five star restaurant.  It was estimated at $3.5 million and we ended up landing it.  Somehow it was decided that I was going to be the PM on this one in partnership with the boss and, you've got it, it ended up being just me.  Whoa nelly, this thing was a whole lot bigger than anything else I'd run.  At first it was a huge learning curve and there were a lot of challenges but once things got humming the next 3 years went pretty well and it turned me in to one of the best PMs in the city (so I've been told by some of my crew and co-workers).  By the time the dust settled and all portions of the work were completed, this project ended up coming in at $6.5 million.  On Gasoline Alley alone there were 169 change orders, one of them being a lighting revision of $160,000!  EEK, that's a big change order.  There was so much paperwork involved with this project that I have 8 - 3" binders and 6 - 1" binders on the shelf in my office.  The paperwork alone was a full time job!
The picture above is the 'Block' as we so affectionately called it.  Sorry I couldn't find one of Gasoline Alley, but this is definitely 'the house that Deb built', and my field guys did a bang-up job.
And that, my friends, would be the origin of both of the tag lines with my email autosignature.

vision to see
faith to believe
courage to do
this one's special to me.  vision to see - where we're going, what we're doing, and the end product.  faith to believe - in myself, that I can do what needs to be done.  courage to do - whatever it is that needs to be done for a completed project.

"Courage is being afraid and saddling up anyway." - John Wayne
And this one?  Ya just gotta love John Wayne, and I firmly believe in it.

Fathers and Daughters

I just finished reading Danielle's Fathers Day message to Ed, her step dad.  What is it with fathers and daughters?  I remember the things that Dad would do to me when I was a whole bunch younger.  Things like folding his belt in half and telling me to 'put your finger in the bear trap' and then snapping the belt closed on my hand.  Things like 'pull my finger'.  Things like pretending to hork up a big lugie and pretending to spit it in my ear when he woke me up in the morning (GROSS!).  Or other things like letting me ride his saddle and tacking my horse for me so I could ride his saddle.  Of course it was way too big for me, but I rode it anyway.  It taught me to have a better seat and be a better rider, believe it or not.  We had  horse called Whiskey that 'hunted bear', meaning that the stump we were riding by (and had passed on numerous occasions) was a horse-eating-tooth-and-claw-wielding bear.  Of course she'd jump straight in the air and land 10 feet from where she'd started and dump me right where she had launched herself.  After walking home the first time, guess what?  She never dumped me again.  I'm not sure how many summers Dad tacked my horse for me, but I'm pretty sure it was 2.  The summer I turned 13, Dad told me that I couldn't ride his saddle unless I put it on the horse myself.  Well that saddle weighs 50-60 pounds (believe me, I still have it) so at 13 it was no easy task.  I think it took me all summer to be able to throw it up there and when I finally did it, I was elated. 
Dad threw that challenge out there for me and I've never forgotten it.  He also challenged me to be the best that I can be.  He taught me to try to excel at everything I've put my hand or head to.  He taught me to read not just fiction (though my guilty pleasure is a novel that helps me escape the everyday world) but also books that help you improve. 
Right now, I'm savoring a book called 'Davinci Decoded' by Johnathan(?) Gelb.  Not only was the man a genius as an artist and inventor, but he was a very well-rounded spiritual man as well.
Another one was 'Shut Up, Stop Whining, And Get A Life' by Larry Wingett.  When I read that one, parts of it (ok, most of it) made me laugh out loud because what this guy is saying is exactly how I was raised! 

So thank you Dad, for making me who I am today.  I'm still a work in progress and far from perfect, but I have a hell of a good foundation under me.

A horse show with Kim, part 2

After a morning of watching a whole lot more halter classes than I like to admit to the show moved on to the under saddle classes.  At a regional show like this one, there were 5 judges.  One of them was a rather large lady would had on a spankin'-brand new pair of Wranglers that were tight enough that when she bent over to pick up a judging card that she had dropped, she had the whole bobbing bird on one leg thing going.  If I remember correctly, it took her three bobs to get low enough to pick it up!  Of course Kim and I had a good laugh over that one. 

The arena that the show was in is a multi use facility that houses hockey in the winter, smaller concerts, etc. and there is a wide wooden platform that runs between the bleachers and the arena boards.  I've already told you about how a lot of these horses are jazzed up outside the ring before their classes for animation in the ring.  The under saddle classes aren't quite as bad as the halter classes are, but they're still a little wide-eyed.  One gal came in on a horse that had to be 15 3, or 16 hands that was waaaay too much horse for her to begin with.  A couple of kids were doing what kids do and running up and down the platform when ol' horse headed down the long side of the arena at a long trot.  He got to just about even with them and all of a sudden he alamand-left and dumped this poor girl right there.  After ol' horse was collected and the girl was asked if she was all right, she was allowed to re-mount her horse and continue the class.  I don't know the Arabian Horse Show rules, but most classes that I've seen if you're unseated you are excused from the class.  Well, this girl gets over to her horse and she's built like the one judge I was telling you about only shorter, and between that and the fact that her horse was so tall, she couldn't get back on.  Ok, now what.  One of the judges held the horse, and another tried to give her a leg up.  That didn't work either.  One holding the horse, and 2 now trying to push her up.  No good, ol' horse keeps moving away.  One holding the horse, one on the other side so he doesn't move over, and 2 pushing her up.  Finally, success!  I think if that had been me, I would have excused myself! 
Kim and I laughed most of the rest of the day over that one and unfortunately that was the end of the shenanigans.

needle-in-the-eye doctor

Cross my heart and hope to die, stick a needle in my eye has a whole new meaning for me now.


About this time a couple of years ago, I woke up one Sunday morning, made tea, and assumed the position in my big comfy chair with a good book.  It wasn't until I put my glasses on that I realized that there was a rather large grey spot in my vision.  At first I thought that it was a spot on my glasses, so I took them off and cleaned them and put them back on.  Still there.  Now what.  Thinking that whatever it was would resolve itself, we carried on and put up with it.  By Wednesday, it was no better so I called my optometrist and told the receptionist what was going on and she got me an appointment for Friday at 10am.  When I saw the doctor, he had a look and told me that he was going to send me to a retinal specialist and that it was very hard to get in to see her but he was going to send a fax in and then follow up with a phone call.  Oh oh, starting to sound serious.  I left his office and went and had lunch with a friend of mine who owns Eamor's in High River and just after we finished, my phone rang with the news that I had an appointment with the retinal people the next Monday.  Ok, now sounding really serious.  I kinda fretted over the weekend with not knowing what was going on but we made it through. 


Monday I told the boss what was going on and later went to my appointment.  First they take you in and check your vision, you know, the ever decreasing size of print.  Right eye, very good.  Left eye.............not so much.  After that they put the drops in to dilate your pupils.  I don't know if any of you have ever had those drops in your eyes, but that shit's nasty as it stings more than just a little.  And then you hurry up and wait.  Typical time in that clinic is 3 to 4 hours and you can't even read!  It's pretty much impossible to focus when your pupils are dilated.  After sitting for what seemed to be forever I was called in and they took some pictures of the inside of my eyes.  And then?  Go sit and wait some more.  I finally got to meet Dr. Ells and she looked at the pictures and decided that we needed more comprehensive pictures, so back in the hall with me to wait for a different type of pictures.  This time they injected some dye in me and took a whole lot more.  And then it's sit and wait some more. 


Dr. Anna's assistant Cheryl finally called me in and I waited some more.  Finally Dr. Anna came in and had a look at the latest round of pictures and said that I had an internal bleed going on and that was what was causing the grey spot and that she was going to treat me with an experimental drug called Avastin.  Dr. Anna told me that Avastin was developed for treatment of colon cancer. Hmmmmmm eyeballs, assholes.... having a hard time seeing the connection there.  I was thinking some sort of surgery to vacuum  that crap out of there but ok, I can do drugs.  Not so fast Deb.  It's not an oral but rather an injectable that gets injected in to the offending area.  Now I broke a sweat.  I don't do eyes..............  I've seen enough cows with pinkeye that between eyeballs and knee caps they just gross me out.  First they put some freezing drops in and you wait (again) and then they inject more freezing in your eye and you wait some more.  Now comes the good part.  By this time I was sweating so bad I must have smelled worse than a linebacker.  Dr. Anna came back and told me to sit very still, look right at the tip of her nose and don't blink.  Don't blink?  I was so focused on the tip of her nose that I could have counted the nose hairs in there!  The best part?  Come back in 6 weeks for round 2 and another 6 weeks for round 3.  I told Dr. Anna that between the Avastin and my internal knowledge that this was going to work, I'd be well in no time flat.  Dr. Anna was so very impressed with my progress when I went back for round 3 that I almost had her convinced that round 3 shot wasn't necessary.  Nice try. 


I've had one relapse since then that took only one shot to clear up and both Cheryl and Dr. Anna are extremely pleased with the way things have gone.  I still see Dr. Anna but have gone from every 6 weeks to every 8 weeks and now 3 months!  I still get the lecture that if I have any sort of distortion or spot I am to call and get in immediately, no waiting around thinking it's going to get better.  Yes ma'am, I'm all over that!

Willy

I just heard that the rodeo world is retiring yet another great horse.  The doggin' horse Willy is set to retire at the end of the Stampede this year.  He's a great horse that no less than 9 guys used at the Stampede last year, most of them making it to the finals on the last Sunday.  A multiple winner of both Canadian and World championships he will be sorely missed, but at 24 years old and starting to get sore hocks, I guess it's time to put the old guy out to pasture. 

For those of you who don't know the sport, a steer is loaded in to the chute with the dogger on one side and the hazer on the other.  When the chute opens, the steer runs out, headed straight down the arena (that's the plan), the dogger catches up to the steer and slides off his horse (in this case Willy), and wrestles the steer to the ground.  That's if everything goes according to plan.  On most occasions the steer veers away from the doggin' horse and off to the right.  This is when the hazing horse comes in to play, trying to keep him straight for the dogger.  A good run happens within 4 seconds or so, with some times so far at the Stampede being in the low 3 seconds.  Wow, that's rapid!  Blink and you miss it.

I know, it looks lazy of me, but I've added a link to an article about steer wrestling and about Willy that explains it a whole lot better than I did.  And sorry, that's not Willy in the picture.

http://www.cbc.ca/sports/story/2008/07/11/calgary-stampede-poulsen7.html

found another one:
http://sports.espn.go.com/rodeo/news/story?id=4715924#top