An era ends

Today, Neil Armstrong, first man to walk on the Moon, passed away at the age of 82. And, it is difficult to describe how the world seems a bit different.

I remember watching the first steps on the Moon, in grainy black and white, from our living room in Point Edward, NS. It seemed momentous and unbelievable at the same time. I watched the space program from its beginning and the rate of achievements was incredible. From Yuri Gagarin’s first flight (which was not presented as a momentous occasion) and Alan Sheppard’s first suborbital flight (which was presented as momentous) in 1961 to actually landing on the Moon in 1969 seemed like progress had no bounds. That the program would be cut a few years later seemed impossible at the time.

Today, we often see the process of putting man in space in light of the Shuttle program: often compared to riding a bus. The fact that two were lost didn’t seem to change that for any length of time. Computers take off, fly and land commercial airliners and control so many aspects of our lives.

But in thoseQuote days, given the level of technology at the time and the fact that much of what was being done on each mission was done for the first time, little was available for testing many of the processes involved in each mission. Flying to the Moon at the time was often done on the old pilot’s adage of flying “on a wing and a prayer,” like the days of wooden ships and iron men sailing towards a strange horizon. And, given the level of experience of each of those mission crews, the level of risk in untested, untried vehicles in a harsh environment was known. Despite this, they went anyway and history was made.

Neil Armstrong is gone and the world is something less for it. One less hero is left. And, there aren’t really many potential heroes to replace him available…

Why Porter Creek D?

Once again, the question of developing the Porter Creek D subdivision has emerged, with the City of Whitehorse, who allocated more than $400,000 for the pre-design of the subdivision in December, despite the objections of a sizeable number of citizens. This week, the city announced that a facilitator will be brought in as part of the planning process.

What emerges from this entire issue is that, while a wide range of groups and individuals are opposed to this development, its only main proponents are the city itself, the Yukon Real Estate Association, and the Whitehorse Chamber of Commerce. In view of this somewhat lopsided number opposing the project, one must ask the question “Why Porter Creek D?”

One of the common proposals put forward in support of this project is the lack of housing in the Whitehorse area. However, this will neither alleviate the immediate needs for housing or the substantially more pressing need for attainable housing. There is nothing in the project that calls for anything other than the status quo in lot pricing, particularly in light of the Yukon Territorial Government policy of pricing lots based on market prices, rather than the actual costs of development. This policy puts the government in a position of arguing that to change would potentially reduce the value of existing lots. At the same time, there has been a wholesale failure to publicly discuss the profits earned on their sale at a higher price. Further, the process of planning, infrastructure development, and sale takes considerable time. An example can be seen in the development of Whistle Bend Subdivision, whose main planning meetings took place in 2006 and will sell its first lots some time this fall.

A point to consider is the population of Whitehorse. When I arrived in Whitehorse in 1991, the population was just under 18,000. In March, the population was estimated to be just over 27,000 (however, just over 2,000 of those actually live outside the city limits). In short, the population has risen by about 7,000 people in the past 21 years. There were also periods where the population fell during this time, as well. Our economy has been “boom or bust” since the founding of the territory and populations have risen and fallen with periods of economy activity and recession.

Yes, we are currently in a boom. However, there is no guarantee this will continue and a view to the economy of Europe facing disaster in the near future indicates that the boom may end abruptly. Will the population of the city hold its numbers? That is something that we must wait and see.

The second aspect of population growth that should be considered is the scope of the Whistle Bend subdivision being brought online this fall. The intention is that the subdivision will house some 8,000 people. This would be an increase in housing that would allow for matching and exceeding the city’s population growth over the past 20 years. In short, given the idea of 20 year growth, the new subdivision well into the development process should provide adequate housing for our needs.

We must also consider the fact that the Whitehorse housing market is also softening a bit, a trend matching those observed nationally, but whether this is an ongoing trend or short term remains to be seen.

It costs a great deal of money to plan and build a subdivision. Why are we spending this when the need does not match historical growth? If sales fall flat, and the population does not increase any faster than it has, there will be quite a few lots available without a market to support it. These will need expensive water, sewer, road and other services regardless whether the new subdivision is actually required. And, even if the population does not increase, infrastructure maintenance costs will.

I don’t mind a bit of pre-planning. In fact, I strongly support being prepared. However, it seems to me that the city, once again, is throwing money away on something that is flash rather than substance, and rather than determining whether or not it is a reasonable requirement. Remember that when you vote for a new mayor and council this October, since several of the candidates for both offices have been strong supporters of this development.

The camper repairs endeth…

OK. Let’s go over the checklist again.

1. Replace the copper cold water lines with PEX ones. Check.
2. Install a city water connection. Check.
3. Install the new water pump. Check.
4. Install a new ground wire for the water pump. Check.
5. Treat the tank with tank freshener. Check.
6. Go over the system for leaks. Check.

Hmm. It seems like there’s nothing left on the list. Wait. That means… wait for it… the repairs are finished. You know, finished… complete, even. In short, they’re done.

I have a few minor things to close it up. I need to install four screws and put a permanent ring connector on the new ground wire from the battery. I have to sweep and mop out the camper. But, these can wait for tomorrow morning after I make a dump run to deal with some trimmed tree limbs.

Now, the only thing I have to do is deal with this cold, freshly poured, drink of Jamaican rum. I think I’ll get on that right away…

A semiproductive day

I started the day with three jobs to do. However, fate hath kicked me in the teeth again and each of the three are only partly done.

I wanted to finish the water system in the camper. After much cursing, swearing and expressing myself in a less than “fit for all audiences” manner, I did install the last fitting and nothing leaks. Yee hah! However, the pump for running from the water tank rather than a city water system doesn’t work. I suspect I have a minor wiring issue and will look at it tomorrow. All in all, this job is 98% done, so I was reasonably successful.

Job number 2 was wiring the trailer lights on the Escape. I had a hitch installed and ordered a factory wiring harness for it. The harness came in today and I went to plug it in and make sure it worked. It didn’t. I spent about 30 minutes tracking wiring until I discovered that the truck doesn’t come with the two fuses required for the trailer lights. I need a 15 and 20 amp mini fuse. I only managed to find the 15 amp one and have to go downtown tomorrow to get the other. This job is about 90% done, so I shouldn’t complain.

Lastly, it’s time to paint the old pickup and sell it. I don’t totally want to sell it, but having two pickups is sort of redundant. It’s a 1987 Ford F250 with a 460 cu. in. motor. It needs a bit of touch up on both sides. I picked up the paint and went to mask it but ran out of masking tape. I did, however, get one side painted and it looks nice. Oh, well. This one is 50% done I guess. However, tomorrow, the forecast is rain so I’ll either have to run a tarp over the truck or wait until a few days from now to finish this job.

So, three jobs to do and none finished. Maybe, tomorrow will be a bit more productive…

Oh, my. Small victories

I know. Little things, by their very nature, are little.

This has been an awful summer. The weather has certainly had its down points. Mostly, it has been cool and wet. There have been nice stretches, but, these have been few and far between. My father passed away at the end of May and this has certainly put a damper on the summer. And, I  had surgery again and have not been able to lift any weight, meaning some of my normal summer activities have been curtailed. I can’t, for example, take the boat out, go fishing, go camping, etc.

There has been a lull in fixing the water in the camper. I did get a plumber in to try and fix the fittings, but had no luck. So, I decided to change over to PEX rather than doing it in copper. After doing a little connecting, I think PEX makes plumbing fun . I connected everything but putting the water heater back in and tested it. Ye, Gods. There were no leaks. Honestly, not one thing leaked. I ran the sinks, flushed the toilet and there were no leaks. And, tonight, Ryan came over and put the water heater back in and I caulked and screwed it back in. Tomorrow, when there’s some light, I’ll put in a single tee connection and then all will be well with my camping world.

This is the fun of small victories. When things have not been great, they seem so huge. And, while little things are often just little, relatively, they can seem pretty important…

How far does coincidence go?

The subject is a question I’ve asked myself on several occasions. How far does coincidence go?

One of the many tragic stories arising from last night’s shooting in Aurora, CO, is that of Jessica Redfield, a sports blogger living in Colorado. She had blogged last month of her premonition that made her leave the Eaton Centre in Toronto several minutes before the shootings there.

I wish I could shake this odd feeling from my chest. The feeling that’s reminding me how blessed I am. The same feeling that made me leave the Eaton Center. The feeling that may have potentially saved my life.

She didn’t know what made her get up and leave but would have been in the line of fire when the shootings happened. Jessica Redfield is one of the confirmed dead from last night’s tragedy.

My tie to this is that I was in Toronto on the day of the Eaton Centre shootings, stuck on a 20 hour layover. I was hoping to see a few people while there, but didn’t get a chance due to timing. When that wouldn’t work out, I decided that I was going downtown for a few hours. Where? Of, the Eaton Centre for a feed of sushi in the food court. However, for some reason, I didn’t get down there. I don’t know why. I could have found the storage place for my luggage and quite easily got a bus into the city. I just didn’t. And, as timing worked out, I would probably have been in the same food court at the same time.

How far do I push this coincidence? It did occur to me when I went downtown this morning. Of course, my destination would have been probably appropriate. Meeting my end in a hardware store, in my case, would probably be quite “fitting.” Hopefully, I would have a roll of duct tape in my hands at the time.

I don’t think I’m going to worry about this more than anything else going on in the world at the time. I do have this belief that when my time comes, it will. I’m also reasonably stubborn enough that I don’t think worries of a wingnut shooting would really guide my life in any way, shape, or form.

I will, in one sense, let it affect me in one way. I’ll explain that by simply giving you the second last paragraph from Jessica Redfield’s last blog post…

I say all the time that every moment we have to live our life is a blessing. So often I have found myself taking it for granted. Every hug from a family member. Every laugh we share with friends. Even the times of solitude are all blessings. Every second of every day is a gift. After Saturday evening, I know I truly understand how blessed I am for each second I am given.

The first great adventure

For some reason, after a week of being confined to the house and the hospital, I was getting a little shack-wacky. So, since I felt reasonable, I figured I take a run down and get a coffee. But, this took a bit of logistical planning.

We loaned one of the vehicles out so I only had the pickup. However, it was hooked up to the boat. I can disconnect the wires and chains, but can’t lift the hitch off the trailer. I’ve been given a 20 lb weight limit for the next six weeks and there are moments when I think I probably couldn’t lift that much.  Clara saved the day by lifting the trailer off the boat and putting the tongue on blocks. Thanks, Honey.

So, I headed downtown, saw a few people, grabbed a coffee, bought some drugs, and, after an hour and 15 minutes, was ready to head home. I was out of steam but made sure I hadn’t overdone it. Not bad for a week after surgery. I will admit that a nap followed shortly afterwards.

So, thus endeth my first post surgery adventure. Cue the Indiana Jones theme at any time…

Last Day at the house

I get to look forward to a bit of housecleaning today. It is a change, since I’ve spent about three weeks looking backwards. In all probability, this is the last night I will ever spend in my parents’ house and it does leave me with mixed feelings.

I lived in this house, off and on, from about 1972 until 1983. I have good memories and not so good ones. After all, there are few things like the angst of youth that are best not remembered. But, when I did move out, I always knew that the house was still here and, if all else failed, there was some place in the world I could return to.

However, with Dad’s passing and Mom being in a home, the house will probably be sold in the near future and, distance will prevent me from helping in the final cleaning and sale. In short, tomorrow morning, when I fly back to Whitehorse, I will probably be leaving the house for the last time and never returning to it.

There are, of course, the proverbial “tons of things” to do first. I have some cleaning to do, getting the garbage, compost, and recycling ready to go out, pack, and visit Mom before I leave. And, like every trip, I do have to resign myself again to the truth that there simply is never enough time to visit everyone nor to do everything I’d hoped on this trip.

I do recognise one important thing, though. Thomas Wolfe may have said, “You can’t go home again,” but, he was wrong. Home is not, while we do like to often think this way, a place from our past. Instead, home is a place of the present and is where we choose to make it. And, while I will miss this house and its happy memories, tomorrow morning, I look forward to flying home…

The things we learn

I have been on the high and low hunt for my mother’s birth certificate for about a day and a half. Eventually, I found it. However, I found a few other things in my search.

I found a few pictures, including one of me when I was much younger, wearing nothing but a strategically placed guitar. I also found the two letters of reference my father used when he joined the Navy in 1947.

The one I found most enlightening… and surprising, was the one written by his high school principal. It listed that he had passed all of his subjects, except the optional French and Latin. Then it listed the two subjects in which he excelled. Mathematics was not a surprise, given that he worked in marine engineering. The second, however, threw me for a loop, as it would be one of the last subjects I expected.

My father excelled in Drama…

How to sweat the small stuff

It’s strange the things that throw you off in times like these. It’s not the huge issues that are the problem. It’s the little, mundane things that throw you for a loop.

I have, probably for some totally perverse reason, been obsessing over getting the garbage out at Dad’s. With everyone here last week, there was a fair bit of it. And, Cape Breton Regional Municipality has mandatory recycling, which is not a problem in itself. However, they collect your recycling and the formula for what goes where was, to me, a bit confusing. Home, I just take the stuff to the recycling center and put it in its proper bins, including sorting plastic by grade. No problem. Figuring out what goes in what blue bag, with even fewer criteria than those I’m used to has befuddled me.

All being said and done, however, it’s all sorted and out on the street for pickup tomorrow morning. And, in spite of how minor a job this is, I feel infinitely less stressed now that it’s out there…