Sept 16th

” Mercury Forecast Edmonton 21 degrees, Calgary 19 degrees, Mesa 31 degrees”

If you’ve ever sat through a Phoenix monsoon, you know it’s less “rainstorm” and more “nature’s attempt to pressure‑wash the entire city at once.” Yesterday and today have been the full experience: heavy sideways rain, winds that seem offended, and that classic desert special where the ground says, “Absorb water? Absolutely not,” and sends everything racing across the surface instead. That clay/sand packed does not absorb anything. Jackie & I have seen this in August and a few times in late October. Alan was down in Mesa once and witnessed the same event.

One small blessing — our crawlspace basement puts us a couple of feet higher than most homes, which feels like winning the desert lottery during overland flooding. Meanwhile, I know the trees are growing so fast you can practically hear them stretching. Give them another shot of water and heat and i will need an extension to my extension ladder to bring them back to manageable sizing.

Picture # 1 is the 18th hole on the 18 Championship course and # 2 is the 4th hole on the 9 hole course today. Water just doesn’t get absorbed into the land.

Jackie’s has a new contract that runs into early November, so once that wraps up, we’ll finally put together a plan to escape this snowy, cold… whatever it is. I can’t call it hell — hell is supposed to be hot — but whatever the opposite of Phoenix is. Going there is like cuddling up in a warm blanket not to stay warm but to enjoy the comfort.

With no RV lot to go to and prep I am left with only a few things to do. Golf, exercise, wash cars, clean up, organize and what? I REALLY do not know what people can do all winter to stay busy. I refuse to watch TV during the day ( one movie which was weird midday) , I refuse to nap during the day, one hour in the gym is enough, ( new reset weight of 182 pounds is holding easily) , so I will need to look for other things to make the days go by.

Just a couple of random things thrown in here :

Jackie got her hair cut yesterday and it looks wonderful. I have kept pushing to get it layered and now we are one step closer. Layered but not fully but it looks awesome. Add beautiful hair to a pretty face and Walla !

Seeing a Bald Eagle overlooking the Bow River while we were golfing at Inglewood was one of those moments that makes you pause mid‑swing and forget whatever disaster you were about to inflict on the fairway. There’s something remarkable about watching a bird that iconic just casually supervising the river like it’s on its morning management rounds.

Canada may proudly claim the Bald Eagle as one of our wildlife treasures, but the U.S.—thanks to Alaska—has nearly twice the population. The same goes for the beaver, our national symbol. Somehow the Americans have managed to out‑beaver us too, which feels a little rude but nature clearly didn’t consult the branding departments.

Still, numbers aside, catching that eagle in the wild is unforgettable. It’s not every day your golf game gets reviewed by a creature with a seven‑foot wingspan and better eyesight than your entire foursome combined.

And why does a dog need a pillow ? They are a dog. They normally just sleep on a hard floor or the ground if outside. BUT not our Daisy she has to have the comforts of a Queen.

I forgot to mention this about the Inglewood Golf Course, As I said I love the course, the layout, the combo tees, the speed of the green and the overall feel of the course, BUT and this is a huge BUT it is the noisiest golf course I have ever golfed at. I have golfed Longbow in Mesa where plane after plane flies right over top of you getting ready to land, I have golfed McCall in Calgary with similar noise but this course that feels like you should be in the country is the loudest and noisiest EVER. Look right behind Jeff and Jackie. That is the Deerfoot Hwy #2 only 50 yards away with heavy traffic all day going at 100 kph. LOUD !

MONEYWISE TIP

Investing a million dollars and being told the advisor’s fee is “only 1%” is one of the great marketing triumphs of the financial industry. It sounds tiny. It feels harmless. Ten thousand dollars a year — people shrug and say, “Well, that’s just the cost of having someone manage my money.” Except it isn’t. It’s the cost of letting someone quietly siphon off a fortune while doing the bare minimum.

Run the numbers over twenty years at a reasonable 7% return and that innocent‑looking 1% fee explodes into roughly $550,000 gone from your pocket. That’s not a management fee. That’s a beach house in a warm climate. That’s generational wealth a term I only use in reference. That’s half a million dollars you earned, and someone else collected because you were told 1% was “industry standard.”

And what do you get for it? In most cases, your advisor drops your money into a balanced fund, spends half an hour setting it up, and then rebalances once a year. Ten hours of actual work over two decades, if we’re being generous. For that level of effort, you’re effectively paying $55,000 per hour. No one on earth should be paid that kind of money for clicking a few buttons and sending you a quarterly statement.

The financial industry has managed to convince people that this arrangement is normal. It isn’t. It’s astonishing how quietly and efficiently wealth gets transferred from investors to advisors under the disguise of a “small” percentage fee. The compounding that grows your portfolio is the same compounding that turns their fee into a monster — and unless you’re getting real expertise, real planning, and real value, you’re not paying for management. You’re paying for someone else’s retirement fantasy.

As previously mentioned generational wealth gets tossed around like it’s some noble financial mission. I used the term deliberately because it’s a trigger — planners love throwing it into conversations to stir emotion and make people feel like they’re failing their family if they don’t build some mythical financial dynasty. It’s manipulative. The money you earn, the money you spend, and the money you leave behind is yours. Not your children’s. Not your grandchildren’s. Yours. And especially not your advisors to hold for you and make money off of. The reason it was created.

The idea that you should shape your entire financial life around what someone else might inherit is absurd. It breeds entitlement, resentment, and outright hostility. Families tear themselves apart over it. Siblings stop speaking. Adult children start monitoring their parents’ spending like auditors, as if they’re owed a future payout. It’s toxic. Every person should build their own life, earn their own way, and stop waiting for an inheritance like it’s a retirement plan.

And if a parent is spending money in a way their kids don’t like? Unless it’s putting their safety or living situation at risk, it’s none of their business. It is their money. They earned it. They get to enjoy it. Watching grown adults panic because Mom or Dad is spending “too much” is one of the more infuriating financial dynamics out there.

My Mom was spending close to $5,000 a month on senior living when she could have gone the subsidized route for $1,800. Nobody complained. Nobody tried to redirect her choices. She didn’t have a massive nest egg, in fact a very small one ,and when she sold her house I managed her finances. She had enough to live exactly how she wanted — comfortably, happily, and with dignity. If she had lived to another 5 years, I would have had to figure out a Plan B. LOL But until then, she got to enjoy her life on her terms, and we supported her instead of hovering over her bank statements. I remember when she bought a $5K mattress. Personally I thought crazy but it meant something to her and was for her comfort.

That’s how it should be. Not this obsession with preserving some imaginary “generational wealth.” Not this fear that parents spending their own money is somehow irresponsible. The real irresponsibility is letting a marketing slogan dictate how families behave.

I will tell you that our plan from Day 1 is to spend what we feel comfortable with and from Day 1 wealth transfer was NEVER a consideration. When both of us are gone the hard assets can be sold.

It’s funny how your relationship with money and “things” changes as you get older. At some point, the urge to buy anything that looks like a showpiece just dies off. The idea of owning something because everyone else has it becomes laughable. A new car might be nice for a week, but the truth is our older vehicles get us where we need to go just as well as something that costs a thousand dollars a month. The shine fades fast; the payments don’t.

What doesn’t fade quite as easily is the shock of watching your retirement account shrink every month. After twelve years retired, that takes real adjustment. You spend your entire working life building that balance, and suddenly you’re drawing from it instead of adding to it. It’s expected, it’s planned, and it still hits you with a jolt every time you look at the statement. Being retired for the 12 years now we have burned through a whack of money that years ago would have been imaginable. I understand and have completed many online calculators and excel sheets on our retirement and I will say this. The 4% rule if expenses aren’t reduced as no chance of working. The difficulty is estimating WHEN the slow down of dollars spent happens. I have picked 80 years old which when I think about it is only 10 years away.

Then there’s depreciation — the financial insult that never stops stinging. Our motorhome that cost $220,000 new is now worth about $65,000. The Jeep i still love was $35,000 and is now maybe $15,000. The Flex was $50,000 and now sits around $20,000. When you’re working, depreciation feels like a tax write‑off and a business perk. In retirement, it feels like watching your money evaporate. Replacing those today would be $400,000 for the RV, $60,000 for the Jeep, and $85,000 for a Flex equivalent. It’s outrageous. It is scary where the pricing is going. And it makes the idea of monthly payments look like a punishment rather than a convenience.

So we had to adapt. We realize repairs are cheaper than payments. We realize we don’t need shiny new toys to enjoy life. And we realize the money is far better spent on vacations, family, and actually living — not on keeping up with some imaginary standard of what you’re supposed to own. That shift isn’t just practical. It’s liberating. Yet daily and understanding this I still yearn for a new truck and even a 1967 Camaro. I try rationalizing it by saying but we only live once and we should deserve it but the cheque out of the account would hurt. It is maybe the $20K month expense for August we just experienced spending on repairs and electrical assessment that stings that is the hold back. LOL

Thought of the Day

 I checked my bank account concerning my dream car… it laughed so hard it charged me an overdraft fee.

September 17th

“Mercury Forecast Edmonton 24 degrees, Calgary 22 degrees, Mesa 38 degrees”

The weather has finally decided to behave, giving us a full week of perfect fall days — decent temperatures, no wind, no frost, and those smug blue skies that make you feel like you should be outside doing something picturesque instead of whatever you were actually planning.

And today is Jackie Lynn’s birthday. Yes, Lynn. I tease her about this constantly because her parents apparently decided middle names were optional — except for the firstborn, who got the father’s name as a bonus feature. Everyone else? Nothing. Blank space. A naming minimalist’s dream. It’s especially funny because they were born in England, where middle names are practically a national pastime. It is a rarity NOT to have a middle name and shocking in the fact they are at least a little bit English. As said it is extremely common to have multiple middle names as this practice is rooted in historical and cultural traditions. It was based on a way to honor family lineage, inherit titles or commemorate notable ancestors. It was used no matter what class you fit within society.

So I have changed her name that fits more with her heritage and helps let her feel she fits in.

She’s well past 65 now but insists on using that age for a few more years, and honestly, I admire the commitment. If you find a number you like, stick with it. So we’re celebrating her “special birthday” again — and probably again next year. And the year after.

Over the years I’ve gone big: sapphire rings, diamond necklaces, diamond earrings, fancy trips… basically the kind of gifts that make other husbands look cheap. But this year I’m switching to an experience — a family outing. Jess and the boys can’t make late afternoons right now, so it’ll just be Tor, Cor, Jack, and Audrey. Jeff and Wendy had other commitments, but at least I got a refund on their tickets. So off we go to Stage West for Unnecessary Farce. I hear “farce” and immediately think British theatre, which made me hesitate because I prefer comedy that doesn’t require cultural decoding. But I’m optimistic I’ll get at least a smile out of it. I love live theatre, and the buffet is always incredible. I’m already emotionally attached to the roast beef and shrimp cocktails.

Before all that, we decided to take advantage of the perfect weather and go for a drive. I’ve lived in Calgary for 35 years and somehow never driven the Highwood Pass — the highest paved highway in Canada. So off we went down 22X and the Cowboy Trail, which is showing off right now with fall colors and snow‑capped peaks like it’s auditioning for a tourism commercial. Beautiful !

Leaving the condo, the drive started out like any other—until a moment of freeway drama added an unexpected jolt of adrenaline. As I was merging, an older lady decided she was going to slip past me right at the pinch point. Not happening. I stepped on it and made the pass impossible. A few seconds later she swung around on the right, shot past us, and delivered a full middle‑finger salute the entire way by.

That gesture has always been my cue that someone wants to turn a simple drive into a bit of theatre. So I tucked in behind her. She changed lanes, I changed lanes. She slowed down, I slowed down. It became a strange little dance across several miles, her realizing I was still there and clearly not enjoying the feeling. She had to feel I was following her and maybe a little bit of apprehension. Eventually the highway split—she headed north, and I continued west on 22X. The moment passed, but it definitely added some unexpected excitement to the morning.

Encounters like that always make me think about how differently people behave behind the wheel. Some drivers—often women, in my experience—react with bold gestures or sharp words because they assume there won’t be any real consequences. In face‑to‑face situations, things tend to play out differently; people usually think twice before acting that way. On the road, though, the anonymity of a windshield seems to give some folks a free pass to be reckless or rude.

I don’t wish her any harm, and I’m sure she drove away thinking I was the problem. But I do hope she reconsiders how she handles herself out there. A little awareness goes a long way, and the highway is no place for impulsive challenges or careless bravado—from either direction.

It has always annoyed me with women that just because they are women they can say and do things and get away with it . In a lot of cases if a male was involved in anything it would end up with someone taking a punch. Not in this case but in a face to face confrontation. Women react aggressively, swear, give fingers knowing there are no repercussions,

Our first stop was Longview, population 304, yet somehow home to three venues that punch so far above their weight you’d think the town was secretly running a tourism empire. The crown jewel is the Longview Steakhouse. You absolutely need reservations unless you enjoy disappointment. And not just any reservations — you have to phone them, during a very specific calling window, like you’re trying to win front‑row concert tickets. When the phone lines open which is early spring, the entire year disappears faster than free samples at Costco. I tried for a few years and have now officially retired from trying. After all it is only food. lol

The second famous spot is Longview Jerky. This stuff is legendary. It’s sold everywhere, tastes incredible, and is made right in town. Anyone driving toward southern Alberta or BC stops there to pick up a bag (or several) for the road. It’s practically a rite of passage. If you show up in the mountains without Longview Jerky, people look at you like you forgot your passport.

The third place is the Little Apple Café and Bakery, which went viral online thanks to their spiral cinnamon buns — enormous, coiled creations that look like someone crossbred a cinnamon roll with a garden hose. They’re delicious, ridiculous, and absolutely worth the hype. Pretty impressive for a town of 300 to be this popular. I could also mention the bar, which is the summer watering hole for thousands of bikers who roar through town like it’s their personal pit stop, but that’s a whole story on its own.

Now onto Highway 40, which turned out to be absolutely incredible. It cuts right through the mountains — wide, smooth pavement, barely any traffic, and scenery that makes you wonder why you haven’t been driving this road your whole life. Mountains, streams, dramatic terrain, and more pull‑off spots than any reasonable person could use unless they’re stopping every five minutes. First time driving it, as I said, but definitely not the last. It’s a drive worth taking, and I’m mildly annoyed at myself for waiting 35 years.

As I said it is the highest paved road in Canada at 7239 ft. To give you an idea Rogers pass is 4363 ft. Most passes are around the 1200 to 1500 meters max and you can see where this fits in. Added to the uniqueness of being so high it is beautiful scenery.

We saw at least three large herds of mountain sheep and a few herds of wild cows. One unfortunate cow had been hit by a car and pulled off to the side — not exactly the postcard moment. Fish & Wildlife really needs to pick that up; nothing disrupts a majestic mountain vista quite like a roadside cow casualty. Daisy, however, thought this was the greatest day of her life. She acted like she was on safari, nose glued to the window, convinced she was personally responsible for monitoring Alberta’s wildlife population.

After the drive, we headed home to get ready for Jackie’s birthday gathering at Stage West. I had an email code to enter, and we arrived about fifteen minutes before entry time. The buffet runs for an hour and a half, so there’s no real rush, but I prefer not to be late. Our table was close to the stage, and since I had booked for eight, the six of us had plenty of room to spread out like VIPs.

Now, the buffet. I’d give it a solid 9 out of 10. I deduct one point — and I stand firmly by this — for NOT having mashed potatoes or roast potatoes with gravy. What buffet serves roast beef and then just… doesn’t offer potatoes? It feels morally questionable. But aside from that culinary betrayal, everything else was excellent. I walked past the sushi and sashimi station and the tapas station, but my plate still ended up looking like a world tour. Sour cream and onion potato salad, Caesar salad, Italian tomato‑cucumber‑feta‑onion salad, stuffed chicken cordon bleu, seasonal veggies, Chinese BBQ pork, jumbo shrimp with amazing sauce, roast beef medium… and a few other things I can’t remember because I was too busy enjoying myself. Jackson had mussels. I kept my shrimp far away from Tor, as I didn’t want her lips to swell on my watch. As I said, the meal was amazing — except for the potato situation, which I will not be forgiving anytime soon. In fact I think I will review with that comment and hopefully the chef will take it into account.

The play was called Unnecessary Farce. As I said when I hear “farce,” I immediately think British humor, and even though I’m 92% English, I struggle with whatever they consider comedy. But I loved this play. It was funny, entertaining, well‑written, and the acting was fantastic. A full 10 out of 10 from me.

We also lucked out with a great waitress who completely surprised me. Every time I’ve been to Stage West, drink service has been… leisurely. So I ordered two drinks right away, assuming I’d need them. Turns out I didn’t — she was on the ball all night. Pleasant surprise.

Notice Jackie Lynn’s purple monochromatic outfit. Looks pretty cool.

All in all, it was a wonderful full day: sightseeing, a relaxing mountain adventure, amazing cinnamon buns, and finishing off with a play and buffet surrounded by family. I hope it was a pretty good birthday for Jackie — she certainly deserves it..

September 18th–19th

” Mercury Forecast Indian Summer is here ! ”

Gorgeous week of weather ahead. No RV lot to go to . Darn !

First thing is this separation vote in the news constantly. It is not good for our economy. Companies hate uncertainty. But it baffles me how so many are so confused over it. Daniel Smith is 100 % pro Canada but people are swayed but the stupidity of people from the NDP party.

My grandfather handed my Dad a better life than he had. My dad handed me a better life than he had. That’s three generations of leaving it better than you found it. Right now, I can’t say I’m handing my kids better than what I got. And that’s the part that is concerning.

There’s a vote coming up and people need to understand what it is. This is NOT a vote to separate from Canada. It’s a vote to have the option to vote on that later. That’s the whole thing. And that option is exactly the point, because it’s leverage. It’s Alberta finally putting something on the table with Ottawa instead of just taking whatever we’re handed year after year.

Equalization payments. Our seats in the House. How Alberta gets treated versus what we put in. Talk to people honestly, in Alberta or anywhere else, and most will tell you it hasn’t felt fair for a long time. Right now Ottawa has no reason to change that, because there’s no leverage. This vote is that leverage. Use it or lose it.

If you genuinely believe the current path is the one you want your kids on, I respect that, that’s your call. But I don’t think that’s most of us, if we’re being honest. Having said that I also believe 90% of the population would vote to stay in Canada as most love it. But the sayings goes be careful what you ask for and it is risk to go to a binding referendum which would be the next step.

This was never a left or right thing for me. It’s right or wrong. And using this vote to force a real conversation with Ottawa, that’s not radical. That’s just standing up for our kids’ future instead of hoping it works itself out.

So before you vote, remember what you’re actually voting on. It’s not separation. It’s leverage. Use it for your kids.

First thing this morning, I got a call from Jackson. Victoria was driving him to school when the Enclave started acting up, so I hurried over and managed to get Jackson there on time. After that, the priority was figuring out what was going on with the vehicle. Tor mentioned it was smoking, and she wasn’t exaggerating—when I started it, a thick white‑grey cloud poured out of the exhaust.

About eight years ago the injectors failed and produced similar smoke, so that was my first suspicion. The other possibility was a blown head gasket. Injectors would be about a $2,000 repair, a head gasket closer to $4,000. Either way, we wouldn’t know for sure until a mechanic diagnosed it.

I’ve used a shop in Midnapore for more than twenty years, but after a few recent missteps I’ve been looking for a new independent mechanic. As luck would have it, Tor had stopped only a few blocks from a shop I’d been considering in Douglas Glen. Reviews were good, so I gave them a call. They could look at the Enclave on Monday, so we limped it over with a trail of smoke following us down the road.

On the way home, Tor mentioned the smoking didn’t start until after she filled it with gas and added oil. The Enclave uses a bit of oil now that it’s getting up there in kilometers, and I’ve told her to check the dipstick weekly. She added two quarts this morning. What she didn’t know was that Corey had also added two quarts a few days earlier.

Considering the engine only holds five quarts total, I’m leaning toward a simple explanation: it’s overfilled. Too much oil means the crankshaft churns it into foam, forcing it into places it shouldn’t be, actually causing lack of oil pressure and causing exactly the kind of smoke we saw. Fingers crossed that’s all it is.

And this is precisely why dipsticks exist—to prevent both low and high oil levels. I didn’t check it myself since all of this came out after the fact, but I’m hoping the diagnosis on Monday confirms the easy fix.

I filled up the Jeep yesterday and, for the first time EVER, the pump rolled past $100. I just stood there watching the numbers climb like it was trying to set a personal best. A few years ago it was half that. Blame the pricing on whatever political, economic, or cosmic force you want—at this point, I don’t care who’s responsible, I just want it fixed. Oil affects everything: transporting goods, running farm equipment, fueling planes, heating homes. It’s the one ingredient in the global recipe that, when overpriced, ruins the whole meal.

Later on, Jackie, Tor, and I took Daisy and Hazel to Sue Higgins Dog Park. There really is no comparison to any other park. It’s spread out, has river access, and offers beautiful walking paths through the trees with meandering trails that make you feel like you’re wandering through a nature preserve instead of a city park. The dogs love it, the owners love it, and for the extra few minutes of driving, it’s absolutely worth it. And the weather couldn’t have been better.

Even if the Jeep is trying to bankrupt me, at least the dogs had a perfect day.

Some time ago, MaryAnn was raving about her electric handwarmers, so Jackie ordered a pair for me. My fingers turn white with Raynaud’s, especially when we’re golfing in temperatures around 10 degrees. Once they go white, they go numb, and suddenly my golf swing looks like I’m trying to swat a mosquito.

I’m convinced these handwarmers will be perfect inside my mitts. If they work as well as MaryAnn claims, I might finally get through a round without my fingers staging a dramatic exit. Pretty cool that they are USB-c charged and last up to 3 months. Better yet get to Mesa sooner and I won’t need them. LOL

Tonight was an absolute pleasure in the kitchen. I finally got to break in our new fancy pots and pans, and let me tell you — they cook so efficiently I’m convinced they come with a hidden turbo mode. The heat is faster, the cleanup is easier, and for a moment I felt like one of those TV chefs who dramatically toss ingredients around for no reason. Larry’s Hells Kitchen.

For supper, I went straight back to our 1980 newlywed era: mashed potatoes, peas, and lean hamburger. A simple classic from the days when our cooking skills were… let’s say “developing.” and our wallets said “cheap”. Funny thing is, after all these years and all the meals we’ve tried, I still love it. Some dishes just refuse to retire.

Today turned into one of those quietly triumphant days — the kind where you don’t set out to accomplish anything epic, yet somehow end up feeling like you’ve conquered several small kingdoms.

Jackie took charge of the house, and I took the Flex out for a well‑deserved spa day. I’ve found a new favourite car wash in Seton, and let me tell you, the Flex got the full royal treatment. Fourteen dollars later, it had been presoaked, mat‑washed, tri‑foamed, foam‑brushed, rinsed, and spot‑freed. Another twelve dollars went into vacuuming Hazel’s hair, which had fused to the carpet with the tenacity of industrial Velcro. Victoria had wisely put down a towel, but Hazel’s hair apparently laughed at that plan.

After the wash, I parked in the bay and finished the dry with my chamois — because if you’re going to do it, do it right. Then came the Armour‑All for the tires and rubber, followed by Mothers Spray wax. That “wax on, wax off” routine might be great for the Karate Kid, but it turns your arms into overcooked noodles. The Flex is a big beast compared to the Jeep, but it still has that cool, unmistakable look… and the power I absolutely love.

The evening meal became its own adventure. I walked into Sobeys with a simple plan and walked out wondering if I accidentally signed up for a cooking competition.

I made a special trip and returned with a collection of root vegetables so colourful and unusual that even the cashier wasn’t sure what planet they came from. She was brand new, and together we stared at the screen like we were decoding ancient hieroglyphics.

“Is that a parsnip… or a turnip in disguise?” We were both guessing.

I ended up with small potatoes in red, white, and purple; parsnip; turnip; rutabagas; yellow turnip; onions; Brussels sprouts; and coloured carrots. Honestly, the bag looked like a vegetable rainbow. Once everything was cooked, it was spectacular — the kind of meal that makes you feel both healthy and slightly smug.

To go with it, I grabbed Montreal‑spiced pork chops and made a full salad. And when I say full, I mean everything went into that salad. If it wasn’t nailed down, it got chopped. It was awesome.

Prime Movie Night delivered a solid “good but not great” experience — the kind of film you watch with mild enthusiasm while occasionally checking how much runtime is left. It was essentially two straight hours of gunfights, fistfights, and the occasional dramatic pause before more gunfights and fistfights. If there was a plot, it must have been hiding behind the explosions, because I never quite caught it. It did have a plot but it took forever to tie every thing together.

Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t a bad movie. It’s just that the movie seemed to have no emotional depth. Characters talked, things blew up, people punched each other, and then more things blew up. Right until the end and it finished just like a Rambo movie where everyone dies in a big explosion except for the main characters that walk thru the smoke. Wildcat the movie will be something I remember only for the fighting.

Thought of the Day

Do you think a director makes a bad movie on purpose ? No good movie is long enough and no bad movie is short enough.

September 20th

“Mercury Forecast Edmonton 25 degrees, Calgary 24 degrees, Mesa 38 degrees”

The stretch of warm weather before fall always feels like Calgary giving us one last chance before the temperatures drop into the low teens and remind us who’s really in charge. Best to enjoy it while it lasts.

Sports headlines have been equally dramatic. Edmonton’s prospects beat Calgary 6–1, and you’d think they’d already scheduled the Stanley Cup parade. A good win is a good win, but it’s a prospects game — it proves nothing, predicts nothing, and should be treated accordingly. But that is Edmonton. To add to their hysteria they won their first pre-season game 5-1 over the Jets. Again a warm up not anything real.

The real entertainment came from the BMW Championship, one of the most enjoyable tournaments I’ve watched in quite some time. For a moment, the “little leprechaun” on the leaderboard gave me a scare by posting a solid score and climbing far higher than I’d prefer. Thankfully, he couldn’t win it, though finishing second was still about twenty spots too many.

But that was only the warm‑up. Young Elvira — no attitude, just a first‑timer with real talent — was leading and playing beautifully until nerves crept in. JJ Spaun, who I’ve always liked, put together a terrific run with four birdies in his last five holes and took the lead. Elvira fought back and tied JJ heading into the 18th, a short par‑5 that regularly hands out birdies, plenty of eagles, and the occasional easy par. All he needed was that simple par to go to a playoff.

Instead, he chose a conservative iron off the tee, misplayed the second shot into a bunker, blasted out only to hit the grandstand, took his free drop, and then produced what I can only describe as a “Larry shot” — straight back into a bunker he was supposed to flop over. JJ watched all of this knowing he could lose, then realizing he might win, then seeing Elvira miss a three‑footer putt that would have secured a lone second wasn’t easy to watch. Heartbreaking for him and his wife, who were both in tears. He was so close.

JJ, ever the good guy, earned the win. The funniest moment came courtesy of his wife, who brought a headshot of Jeremy Clarkson to the course. They love his show and she wanted a “special guest” present for the victory. Jackie and I watched it once and didn’t care for it, yet friends of ours — and Jackie’s cousin in England — absolutely adore it. People’s tastes are a mystery.

All in all, a thoroughly entertaining tournament from start to finish.

My nutrition reset is working well. A everything bagel with eighteen grams of protein and very little sugar fits perfectly within my guidelines, and I’ve managed to stay on track for a full week. That consistency feels good.

I’ve booked all of my dreaded blood work for next week. I noticed that my anal doctor added a genetic cholesterol marker to the requisition. ( and I don’t mean rectum) I understand exactly why it’s there, and it doesn’t change my position. The marker doesn’t measure cholesterol levels or plaque; it simply indicates predisposition. My sister had it, and I may as well, but the information is not actionable for me and won’t influence my stance on statins. It is just a tool for my doctor to be annoyed again and me leaving the room.

Next week is shaping up to be busy in a good way. On Monday, Jackie has Audrey’s dentist appointment first thing, and then right after we’re heading to Lethbridge to visit and watch Atticus’s football game. Tuesday morning I’m at the lab early for blood work, and we have the condo fire inspections that day. Wednesday Jackie is meeting an old friend from the bank for lunch, and if the Waldies get the stain in time, I plan to finish the fence either Tuesday or Wednesday. Thursday I’m golfing at Turner Valley with my group, and the furniture and rug cleaners are coming to the condo. On Friday, Jackie, Daisy, and I are golfing at McKenzie Meadows. It’s a full week before the weather turns and hopefully Friday turns out better than expected.

I’ve got two Makita 18V batteries charging, two Black & Decker 18V batteries in their charger, a 20V Mastercraft battery on charge, plus another Mastercraft 18 volt to charge and my two large lithium golf cart batteries going as well. Those golf cart batteries take four to five hours, and I prefer not to leave them unattended as they are lithium and now 12 years old. Once they’re done, everything will be set until spring. I’ve been fortunate with battery longevity, but it’s largely due to consistent maintenance. My Makita batteries are eleven years old, the Black & Deckers are six, the golf cart batteries are twelve, and the motorhome’s lead‑acid batteries are eleven. All of them still perform perfectly.

Thought of the Day

I have charged up so many things I think I may have even charged up my humor for tomorrow.

September 21st -22nd

“Mercury Forecast Edmonton 21 degrees, Calgary 22 degrees, Mesa 37 degrees’

The first day of fall 2026 and it feels like summer. Absolutely gorgeous out. Yesterday was the same—warm, bright, and perfect for a full day on the road. Jackie had an appointment with Audrey in the morning, and once that wrapped up, we headed to Lethbridge.

It was one of those drives that reminds you why you like getting out of the house: sunshine, quiet roads, and no rush. Our main goal was to watch Atticus play football. It’s his first year in flag football, and I’ve always believed it’s our job as grandparents to show up. Kids should know we’re interested and involved. Maybe I’m old‑fashioned, but it drives me nuts when grandparents—or parents, for that matter—don’t bother.

I think of my mom a lot when it comes to this. She was always there. She insisted on being the first person to ride in any new car I brought home. She even drove my go‑cart once—crashed it, naturally—but she laughed the whole time. I flipped our Ski‑Doo on her inaugural ride and she just lay in the snow laughing. She came to every Kiwanis Music event I was in, and I was in plenty. She’d take time off work just to watch. She made a special trip to Mesa with Darlene because she “had to see our place.” At the time you feel proud and grateful, but looking back, you realize just how much it meant. As a kid, you want your parents’ approval, and you feel the pressure to do well, but you also feel seen.

So Jackie and I make a point of showing up for every kid and grandkid, whatever they’re doing.

We met Jess, Penny, Atticus, and August at Evergreen Golf Course. They have a Launch Pad setup there, and it was a blast. Two hours on the TrackMan, drinks, appies, and a lot of laughs. A couple of things stood out.

Atticus—who has one of the quickest, sharpest senses of humor—also happens to be a bit of a messy eater. Food on the face, hands, clothes… it’s just part of his charm. He tackled saucy chicken wings like he had no teeth, leaving half the meat behind. I teased him, of course. I consider myself a wing connoisseur—not in variety, but in technique. I clean them down to bare bone. Atticus caught on, did a redo, and probably ate the meat of ten more wings he would’ve wasted. They like the saucy kind; I prefer dry rub or light sauce. Hot or Buffalo is my go‑to. The dill wings were fantastic, and salt and pepper is still my favorite dry rub.

We had Atti with sauce all over his face and hands, and Jessica with a large hole in her pants she didn’t know about—thankfully covered by an untucked shirt. The food was great, and the entertainment was free.

I’ve said before how strong Penny is, especially considering her size. She’s much shorter than Jessica and very slight right now, careful with her weight management. I’ve worked on projects with her and she’s impressed me every time. I remember an older gentleman—about 65—refusing to help carry a large steel entry door with a sidelight, easily 250 pounds. Penny just grabbed one end and off to the truck Penny and I went. Strength matters, even if technique is king in golf. On the TrackMan she hit a 184‑yard shot with a lousy driver and a poor ball, maybe even flight‑restricted. That’s a long way. August had some great hits too, finishing second in one of the games.

We finished up and headed to Raymond. Atticus got his football makeup and gear on and he was ready.

We whipped to DQ for a quick before the game meal. The service clerk was fantastic and when I asked for Chicken Toes on behalf of August she played right along. Great meal and then off to the field.

Raymond really does spoil its residents. For a small town, it has sports facilities that would make bigger places jealous. Tonight’s game was on the big field where the Comets play. They divided it into sections for the kids, but still took full advantage of the grass, the stands, and the concessions. Atti seems to genuinely like football, even though his team got absolutely steamrolled by a very fast opponent. There’s always next time.

Driving home, our car looked like it had been through a bug apocalypse. Farmers were harvesting like mad, kicking up dust and sending every insect in southern Alberta fleeing directly onto my windshield. Perfect timing.

Sleep was terrible last night, mostly because my doctor has become more stress than support as I want as few of issues as possible to come up. It’s annoying when you dread an appointment more than the issue you’re going in for. After 35 years, I think this might be my next visit with her maybe my last.. I’ve stayed mostly because Jackie sees her too, but it feels like time.

I was up early for blood work, which turned out to be a good decision. Only four people in the waiting room and a posted walk‑in wait time of five minutes. The only challenge was holding off on peeing because you know they’ll need a sample. My phlebotomist today was an older Ukrainian woman who was fantastic — used a side vein, no pain, no bruising, and only had to release the band once to finish filling the last vial. A rare medical win.

When I got home, the fire alarm testing was underway. Daisy does not appreciate this annual tradition, so I took her for a drive to escape the noise. I needed to kill a few hours anyway. First stop was Okotoks to check out a truck I’ve been watching. Seeing it in person made me like it even more. Now I just need to figure out timing. My original plan was to keep vehicles for ten years. The Buick lasted nine, and the Jeep is now fourteen. If I replace it and get another fourteen years, I’ll be eighty‑five and probably not worrying much about vehicle shopping anymore.

Next, I swung by the shop to see if Tor’s SUV had made it in. Just as I pulled up, it was backing out for a test drive. I followed him for a bit and no smoke . Yahoo ! It looked perfect, so fingers crossed when the mechanic calls Tor.

I came home to find the alarms still blaring, so Daisy and I headed out again — this time for a long walk on the Cranston Ridge. She’s a funny girl: half walk, half “please carry me, it’s hot.” Lazy pup.

But the view from the ridge is worth it every time. You can see the Blue Devil and McKenzie Meadows golf courses, the Bow River, and the whole valley stretched out below. A peaceful end to a noisy day.

i did notice a neighborly dispute. One guy had a Canada Flag and the neighbor had a couple of Alberta flags, Dueling Flags !

Came home and fire testing is done which is good as I have a few bills to get paid.

TSX up 29.91% YTD which is incredible nice for us.

Lab results are fast. Taken this morning and results come back already this evening.

I think the more interaction I have with people in the medical field the more cynical I become. I do not understand the system and don’t understand why doctors in particular are not self thinkers. I need to understand the renumeration structure to figure out why they are so pill prescription oriented . I regress. Where I am going with this ? Most would have read my refusal to take Statins. I had cholesterol numbers above what is thought of as “normal” for 35 years. I am 99% confident that I am correct on this poison pill and some day it will be exposed. So I was very happy with my numbers today. All natural without pill assist. Every category within my guidelines but not theirs. But here is what brings this topic up again. There has been a lot of discussion in the cholesterol world about a newer test that they are doing now. It is Lipoprotein (a) measurement. Another tool to help Statin sales. It is a genetically determined cholesterol carrying particle that according to the experts significantly increasing the risk of stroke, heart attack or aortic stenosis. You read right. Genetically. I smiled as my doctor was attempting to attack me again with this as it is the first time she has asked for it but it is relatively new in the market place. It is a once in a lifetime test. Here is the funny part. Supposedly my sister has this gene mutation that creates additional risk. Remember i said genetic. One would think and it would be very normal that everyone in my family like parents and siblings would have it. My parents would never have been tested for it. They both lived to 90 yrs plus so they did well. But my sister has it. HOW is that possible ? I will wait to see what my doctor has to say about this. My particle number is very low which indicates very low risk of particle accumulation so I guarantee it will not be mentioned. Three out of four markers are even within the “guesstimate” range they want.

It is like the Factor 5 mutant gene in the Craven family that has been passed down thru the generations. Audrey, Jackie and Victoria along with Jessica all have it. It appears to be a female gene gone rogue not affecting any boys. This one I understand a little as that family has had generations before them that most likely were raped and pillaged by the Normans, Romans, or Vikings where as my family which is still 92% English blood remained untouched. There was a incident on my side years ago on top of a Scottish Hill with two guys wearing kilts that caused a mutation in my genes to have a high iron load but that may have been a incorrect test. An oddity.

I think we over test everyone for everything and the medical community have been brainwashed into thinking a “number” is the most important thing.

Thought of the Day

Don’t be mad at a lazy dog. They did nothing. !

September 23rd-24th

“Mercury Forecast Edmonton 19 degrees, Calgary 22 degrees, Mesa 36 degrees”

Not as warm as originally thought but still a nice day even if overcast.

I said over testing and now I will say a way over testing. More results today with NEW tests. They are just numbers to be used as guidelines as everyone’s body is different. The positive way to look at is more testing is better to find out issues BUT.

I spent an hour on the phone today with AMA, and I have to say it was genuinely refreshing to speak with people who were both pleasant and helpful—and, just as importantly, easy to understand. I had submitted bills totaling about $1,800, fully aware that I wouldn’t receive the entire amount back, but hoping for a substantial reimbursement. When a cheque arrived for $600, I knew I needed clarity on how that figure was calculated, especially with provincial taxes and GST potentially affecting the final number.

My expectation was roughly a 50% return, so taking the time to walk through the details felt worthwhile. The conversation was constructive, and I appreciated the representative’s willingness to explain the breakdown. With the information now in hand, I’m optimistic that the final outcome will make sense—and hopefully be close to what I had anticipated.

Daisy and I took a long walk along the ridge today, enjoying the cooler weather that made the trail feel a little lighter and the pace more relaxed. She loves the coolness. Partway through, we fell into step with a gentleman and his dog—Pepper, a calm and handsome black lab who seemed perfectly content to explore at our side. Conversation came easily, which comes naturally when two people and two dogs share the same stretch of path.

We discovered that both of us had retired about twelve years ago, a small coincidence that opened the door to a deeper exchange. He’s 79 now, carrying himself with the dignity of someone who has lived a full life, though not without its burdens. His wife’s dementia has advanced quickly, reshaping every part of his daily reality. Travel is no longer possible; the practical challenges, including the need for frequent Depend changes, make flying out of the question, and long-distance driving is equally unrealistic. The way he spoke about it—matter‑of‑fact yet undeniably heavy—made clear how profoundly life can shift in such a short span.

Our conversation drifted to the broader issue of dementia itself. We both reflected on how widespread it has become and how little true understanding we seem to have. It’s difficult to believe that something so pervasive could be purely random. More likely, it’s tied to environmental factors, digestive health, chemical exposure, or even the medications we’re told are beneficial. Perhaps it’s a combination of all of these. Whatever the cause, the lack of clarity is unsettling, especially when you see its impact up close.

Despite the weight of the topic, he remained gracious, thoughtful, and open. He had held a prestigious position at ECCO Electric and is a member at Priddis Golf—a club with a joining fee around $40,000—yet he carried himself just as a normal everyday guy. A very nice man and nice long walk.

Perogies and salad really are one of life’s quiet victories. You can dress them up, keep them simple, or—if you’re feeling rebellious—declare cheese and potato perogies a “change of pace,” even though they’re basically the comfort‑food equivalent of a warm hug. Still, they never let you down, and that’s more than we can say for most furniture.

Speaking of furniture, Chem Dry rolled in just after 9 a.m. this morning, ready to do battle with the couch and area rug. The technician was a nice kid, worked hard, and gave the impression that he could probably bench‑press the sofa if asked. Everything is still damp, so right now the results fall somewhere between “looks cleaner” and “could be a trick of the lighting.” The suspense is real.

In hindsight, buying a custom made light‑colored couch was… optimistic. Aspirational. Maybe even a little delusional. The material we picked looked gorgeous in the showroom—like something from a magazine where nobody actually sits down. Real life, however, comes with clothes, bare feet, snacks, gravity, and the occasional mystery smudge. Grey leather would have been the practical choice: stylish, durable, and nearly impossible to offend.

So the new plan is simple. Once everything dries, the couch gets a cover whenever it’s just the two of us at home. It’s not glamorous, but it’s effective. And honestly, there’s no shame in choosing darker, tougher materials. They may not have that “airy designer vibe,” but they stay looking good for years, and they don’t make you feel guilty every time someone sits down.

I headed out around 11 a.m. for my Turner Valley golf event, feeling pretty good about the day ahead. We were short one player, so a guest joined our group—and what a fantastic addition he turned out to be. He’d lost a leg in a car accident a few years ago, but you’d never guess it from the way he plays. The man absolutely crushed the ball. Long, straight, effortless. Meanwhile, the rest of us had our struggles.

My own round was… fine. Not great, not terrible. I lost two balls, grumbled a little, and still managed to card an 84. Respectable enough, but apparently not respectable enough to keep my wallet intact. I lost money to both Rick and Larry P., who are now officially classified as sandbaggers in my personal record book. The chirping started last night over text—plenty of banter, teasing, and pre‑game smack talk—and carried straight into today. Everyone played well, which would’ve been wonderful if I hadn’t been funding their afternoon snacks. And honestly, trusting a used car salesman and a soccer coach to handle the math and handicaps? That’s on me. High‑risk behavior.

The weather added its own twist. It eventually warmed up to a beautiful 19 degrees, but those first five or six holes were chilly enough that my fingers turned white from Raynaud’s. Thankfully, I’d packed my new hand warmers, and let me tell you—they’re a perfect 10 out of 10. Warm, comfortable, and the only reason I didn’t look like I was trying to golf with frozen chicken fingers for hands.

All in all, it was a great day: good company, lots of laughs, a decent score, and a small financial loss I’ll be blaming on “creative handicapping” for the foreseeable future.

Thought of the Day

Golf is a game where optimism returns every tee shot

September 25th-27th

“Mercury Forecast Edmonton 20 degrees, Calgary 22 degrees, Mesa 34 degrees”

Fall hits and temperatures plummet. Tomorrows high is 10 degrees and all next week is cool. A small reprieve for a few days but yes unfortunately the consistent warmth is gone.

This time of year is beautiful. This is the pathway system that Daisy gets walks on.

Today was supposed to be one of those perfect late‑season golf days — the kind where you start with a light jacket, shed it by the 4th hole, and spend the rest of the round pretending summer hasn’t quite left us yet. And to be fair, it did start that way. But as Calgary often reminds us, weather forecasts are more of a polite suggestion than a promise.

Jackie, Daisy, and I headed out to McKenzie Meadows feeling optimistic. It was cooler than expected at first, but nothing a brisk walk and a few hopeful swings couldn’t fix. Eventually the sun settled in, the layers came off, and for a while it felt like we were in for a beautiful round.

Then came the 9th hole — or as I now call it, the beginning of the end.

Out of nowhere, the wind cranked up to what was 50 km/h plus gusts. Not the gentle “keep your hat on” kind of breeze — I’m talking full‑on “hold onto your cart or it might end up in Okotoks” wind. The kind of wind that makes you question your line choices, your club selection, and whether golf is truly a sport or just a long walk with emotional challenges.

It got cold again too, which is always a special treat for someone with Raynaud’s. Temperatures in the mid‑teens? Most people call that pleasant. My hands call it the North Pole. Thankfully, my new hand warmers once again proved their worth. At this point they’re less of an accessory and more of a survival tool. Honestly, it might be time to pack up and head south — clearly my circulation has already migrated.

Despite the weather theatrics, we were paired with a wonderful couple — members at McKenzie Meadows and genuinely delightful people. Both excellent golfers too, which always makes the round enjoyable. I’ll take golfing with another couple over two random guys any day.

Now, the scoring… well, let’s just say the wind had opinions.

Distance control became guesswork. Ball flight became comedy. Birdie chances became “let’s just escape with a par.” I finished with an 84, which under normal conditions might earn a raised eyebrow — but today it felt like a small victory. Gerry, our playing partner, managed two birdies, proving that at least one person in our group had made peace with the wind gods.

I’m pretty sure this was the third windiest round I’ve ever played. The photo doesn’t do it justice — on some holes the flagpole was bent at what looked like a 75‑degree angle. When the course starts looking like a physics experiment, you know you’re in trouble.

Even with the chaos, it was a fun day. Good company, a few laughs, a few “did you see where that ball went?” moments, and another story to add to the retirement adventure. Not every round ends perfectly — but the imperfect ones tend to be the most memorable.

Daisy was exceptional and I am sure enjoys the outing. She did shiver a bit when the biting wind blew right into the cart.

We finished in less than 4 hours which is exceptional.

We decided to go to Sobeys for supper and picked up a roast chicken and sides. Always great and better for you than fried fast food.

Awesome that the Turner Valley Golf Course was picked as the #1 Best Golf Course in the Foothills. I love the course and I never get tired of playing it.

I received an email from AMA today, and it genuinely made my day. I’ve always considered myself a happy AMA customer, but this experience reinforced exactly why. A while back, I filed a reimbursement claim for around $1,000. When the cheque arrived, it was for $600. I wasn’t surprised — I knew from the start that the policy often reimburses only about 50%, and I accepted that. Still, I’ve always believed that real‑life situations don’t always fit neatly into predetermined rules. Sometimes circumstances deserve a closer look.

So I decided to pursue an appeal.

What followed was about two hours of conversations with various people within AMA. Everyone I spoke with was polite and helpful, and eventually I reached the agent who had handled my case. She took the time to listen as I explained the details, the context, and why I felt this particular situation needed a more flexible interpretation. We talked about the importance of having a structure that can adapt to unique circumstances rather than relying solely on rigid guidelines.

She didn’t rush me, didn’t dismiss anything, and didn’t hide behind policy language. Instead, she asked thoughtful questions, took notes, and promised to review everything carefully.

Today she emailed me with her decision. After doing her due diligence, she agreed with my appeal. Another cheque — for about $500 — is already in the mail. I was impressed not just with the outcome, but with the professionalism and fairness shown throughout the process. It’s rare these days to find a company that listens, considers, and responds with genuine care.

This experience reminded me why I’ve always valued AMA. They don’t just provide roadside assistance or insurance; they operate with a customer‑first mindset that shows up when it matters. In my opinion, everyone who drives in Alberta should have AMA. They’re a company that stands behind their members, and today they proved it once again.

Watched the Presidents Cup and the International Team is doing well. Our Team Canada beat the powerhouse team of Scottie and Burns which was fantastic. The only time I had to cheer against Scottie.

If Friday felt cool, today took things to a whole new level. Calgary delivered one of those classic late‑September days — steady rain, a high of only 8°C, and a sky that never bothered to brighten. Just grey, gloomy, and downright unpleasant from morning to night.

With temperatures dropping fast, I hope all the procrastinators out there finally got their RVs winterized. We’re heading toward –4°C this weekend, and that’s the number I’ve always considered the danger zone. Anything below that and you’re flirting with plumbing issues, especially the dreaded cracked hot water heater. Not a fun surprise to discover in spring.

Despite the dreary weather, the Presidents Cup provided some great entertainment. It was a mix of spectacular shots and a few truly awful ones — the kind that remind us that even the best golfers in the world can look a little more like the rest of us from time to time.

Our Canadian players represented themselves well overall. They dropped the foursomes but won the four‑ball matches, with a solid effort. The International Team hasn’t won since 1998, so it would be something special to see them pull off a victory.

I love pride and patriotism, but I’ll admit the constant USA, USA chant gets a bit much after a while.

The Jeep didn’t stay clean for long — but it was for a good reason. We headed out to watch Jackson at his U18 hockey tryouts today, and it was absolutely worth the trip.

Jackson looked right at home on the ice. He’s got the size, the skill, and the confidence to compete at that level. His line contributed to two goals, and he fit in seamlessly with the pace and physicality. I’m not sure whether the group has already been culled, but among the twenty‑plus players on the ice, I didn’t see anyone who stood out dramatically — either for excellence or for struggling. It was a balanced group, and Jackson belonged right in the mix.

It was fun to watch.

Watching the news tonight they had a piece on a IPSOS poll on some politicians. I believe the numbers of the support for Carney in particular in Alberta but do not believe the numbers on Smith and Nenshi. I understand the referendum is a divisive event but for the public to attach it to Smith is inaccurate and not right . My opinion she has made mistakes but is the best Premier we had since Ralph and Peter. It was shocking to me the Bi-election in Shaw but it all goes back to 2015 with the NDP win in Alberta. People get a little upset and lash out by thinking we will show them and then the repercussions of that hit. Any NDP government in any province has a history of being a disaster. Socialists, unionist, and immigrants migrate to their policy. Hopefully after the vote people will start to understand her value. ( no matter what the vote this matter will not stop)

The Battle of Alberta returned in all its preseason glory, which is to say: absolutely no stakes, no consequences, and yet somehow still enough drama to make you forget it doesn’t count. Both teams iced what looked suspiciously like full rosters, because apparently even exhibition games need to feel like a mid‑April panic. The Oilers won — of course they did — but the game itself was solid. Calgary showed flashes of what they could be, which is encouraging in that “please let us score more than two goals a night” kind of way.

Let’s be honest: the Flames are once again shaping up to be a low‑scoring, hard‑working, star‑free ensemble cast. It’s like watching a team built entirely out of character actors. Great effort, great structure, but nobody’s winning an Oscar. Still, if they can grind their way into the playoffs, that’s where hard work sometimes smothers raw talent.

Meanwhile, Edmonton continues to be… Edmonton. There must be something in the water up there — maybe a secret blend of river sediment and blind optimism — because the fan culture borders on cultish. You can practically see the indoctrination happening in real time. Tiny children, barely old enough to form memories, already decked out head‑to‑toe in Oilers gear, chanting McDavid’s name like it’s a sacred hymn. It’s impressive, in a slightly unsettling “is this how religions start?” kind of way.

But that’s the charm of the rivalry. Calgary brings the grit, the hard work, the grinding, Edmonton brings the dash & flash, and together they create a hockey atmosphere that feels half playoff intensity, half family feud. Preseason or not, it’s always entertaining — even if the Oilers faithful look like they’re one step away from handing out pamphlets at the airport.

Thought of The Day

The only place success comes before work is in the dictionary.

September 27th-28th

“Mercury Forecast Edmonton 16 degrees, Calgary 15 degrees, Mesa 36 degrees”

Hit below freezing last night so the flowers will be toast, the leaves will turn and fall quickly now. Full fall season takes hold.

Presidents Cup in on and hopefully they can pull it off.

Well it didn’t end well with the International Team failing to win. They haven’t won since 1998 and this year they were so close. Two players on the US team were instrumental in their win. The first was the young first timer Jackson Koivon and Chris Gotterup. Chris’s putts were amazing with 40 ft and 30 ft plus many other long ones. Koivon as a young rookie golfed absolutely unbelievable. The US team was better today but the International Team scared them and were so close.

I hope everyone saw the good will gesture Scottie gave to Nico. Right in the middle of the a stupid fans yells ” Go Scottie” . No one ever is that ignorant. I think the USA chants may have caused too much excitement for this individual. On the green Scottie “allowed, gave” a 30ft plus putt to Nico as a good will gesture, That is Scotty. Rest assured Rory does come close to be that classy.

A fun tournament to watch.

Then off to Jackson’s U18 evaluations, and he delivered an impressive performance. He played extremely well, making several strong plays and showing confidence well beyond his age. His line struggled a bit with positional awareness, which meant Jackson often had to cover for others. While that can be both positive and negative, it does highlight his maturity and ability to read the play.

It’s important to remember that this is a U18 tryout and Jackson is only 15 years old. Despite being the “odd big lad out there,” he proved he can compete at that level and hold his own just as well as anyone on the ice.

Once home, we settled in to watch the second‑last episode of the season of Big Brother. For a show that doesn’t pretend to be anything more than light entertainment, I genuinely enjoy it and look forward to each new episode.

With nothing pressing on the agenda today, I headed to Sobeys for groceries. Somehow three bags totaled nearly $300 — a sign of the times, I suppose. I picked up a wide assortment of root vegetables for a special supper dish: cauliflower, Brussels sprouts, orange and white turnip, parsnip, coloured and orange carrots, and coloured potatoes. It should make for another hearty and delicious meal.

While at Sobeys I always check my blood pressure as it gives me a consistent reading. With the extra pounds off it has dropped a little too low. I will watch this over the next bit and may have to cut my pills in half.

After getting home, I unpacked everything, had lunch (with a bit too much carb indulgence), and then tackled some cleaning — specifically the living room patio doors and any windows I could reasonably reach.

Later, I made a trip to Walmart for bulk household supplies such as paper towel and tissue paper. I’m not fussy about brands as long as the product works and the price is right. Jackie, on the other hand, prefers specific brands, triple‑roll strength, and certain quality standards, so I had to choose carefully.

I also needed hand soap, dish soap, and toilet bowl cleaner. Oddly enough, the hand soap wasn’t located with the cleaning supplies and soaps but instead in the pharmacy section — a strange choice on Walmart’s part. After struggling to find it, I asked a very friendly staff member for help at the service counter. I had even downloaded the Walmart app to locate items by aisle and bin number, only to discover that Walmart doesn’t offer that feature.

For a company of that size, it’s surprising — and I’m sure they lose sales because customers simply give up. The staff member and I shared a good laugh about the possibility that Walmart wants customers to wander the store. You never know.

Tonight’s supper was spectacular. As i said I picked up a lot of root vegetables that require a bit of work to peel and dice. Our new peeler works wonderful. I started on the vegetables and Jackie started to cut up a chop the assortment of stuff for our salad. Along with this I picked up some tenderized and seasoned veal. Now root veggies take about an hour to be ready so we started early to accommodate that. What I like to do is use the oven for about 45 minutes and then the air fryer to bring to perfection and brown. I timed the meat and veggies out perfect.

A healthy and awesome tasting meal.

Right after supper Jackie and I headed to the gym. I’ve been running a mile each day, chipping away at the time bit by bit. Today was a few minutes faster again — still nowhere near a four‑minute mile, but the steady progress feels good. My shoulders have been tight lately, so I kept things simple: dumbbells, a bench, some sit‑ups. Just enough intensity to bring a light sheen of sweat to my forehead and remind my body it’s still capable of pushing.

Later, we drove to Jackson’s evaluation at a nearby arena. The Acadia rink was noticeably warmer than Jack Setter — a small victory in itself, as my hands stayed warm the entire time. But the game was hard to watch. The players looked scattered, clumped together, chasing the puck like a swarm with no sense of position. It reminded me of our girls’ early soccer days, when enthusiasm outweighed structure and everyone ran toward the ball at once. In that kind of chaos, no one’s skill can truly stand out.

Even so, Jackson had moments where his talent broke through — a few strong hits, clean stick work, confident skating. But he was off, and I could see it. Frustration crept in, effort dipped, and the spark he usually carries wasn’t there. Evaluations matter, not because of the team you end up on, but because they’re one of the few chances to show your best. And at fifteen, trying out for U18 for the first time, the odds of landing on a top‑tier team are naturally slim. That’s not a reflection of his ability; it’s simply how the system works. it is how life works with each of us having to prove ourselves in any endeavor. How we handle it comes with experiencing it and learning from it.

What surprised me came afterward. Jackson — such a good kid, thoughtful, hard working and usually grounded — let the disappointment get the better of him. The defeatist tone, the “poor me,” the “I hate the game” comments… it caught me off guard. I know he’s fifteen. I know he wants to be on the best team. And I know he’s skilled enough to get there eventually. But attitude and effort matter as much as talent, and tonight neither were where they needed to be.

I’ve seen this same pattern many times in business. Someone gets passed over for a promotion or a special assignment, and instead of digging in and working harder, they shut down. They lose drive, lose perspective, and let frustration take the wheel.

It’s a crossroads moment — the kind that shapes who you become. Jackson is standing at one of those crossroads now. My hope is that he chooses the path that leads forward, not the one that stops him in place.

The final result of whatever team you’re placed on doesn’t matter in the larger scheme of things. What this reflects is personal skill, effort, timing, luck, and the reality that a junior player trying to earn a spot on a senior team is facing long odds. It’s rare, and it comes down to going the extra mile in the junior league — improving, impressing, and growing both physically and emotionally until you have another opportunity.

I have a few personality traits that some might call weaknesses, but I see them as strengths. I dislike giving up. I dislike seeing people stop fighting through a cold, a bit of pain, or a temporary setback. I dislike wasted opportunities, defeatist attitudes, quitters, and poor losers. At the core, I believe in doing your best, pushing as hard as you can, but accepting the result with pride.

“Thinkth not of ill and disease and thou shall defeat the foe within”

Our girls were very good soccer players, yet they still ended up in the B division. They were happy there — surrounded by friends, enjoying the camaraderie, and having fun. Unless a child has extraordinary skill, the chances of a professional career in soccer or hockey are extremely limited, so the priority should always be enjoyment. Too often, parents live vicariously through their children and apply unhealthy pressure. In Jackson’s case, the pressure comes from within, and that can be just as heavy.

Sometimes it’s simply a matter of resetting your mindset and carrying on with what you love. I’ve always said I would rather be a great or very good B player than the weakest A player.

I remember when I was first promoted to General Manager of the Calgary branch. I went from being the top sales rep in Edmonton — a place of comfort and confidence — to suddenly being responsible for the operations of an entire large branch. It was overwhelming. I phoned Jackie after the first day or two thinking, “Holy man, what have I done accepting this promotion? Did I make a mistake?” The learning curve was steep: P&L statements, inventory management, computer systems, customer service from a completely different perspective, and most of all, the responsibility of fifty staff members. I was fortunate to have strong mentors in Lorne, Mark, and Ron, who helped me learn the business. It was one of the most overwhelming experiences of my life, but I had to dig in, learn fast, and adjust quickly.

Truth be told, I didn’t handle my promotion from warehouse to inside sales very well either — I ended up drunk and puking in Jackie’s bathroom at her parents’ house, with Peter soaking in the bathtub beside me. Growth isn’t always graceful.

I’m looking forward to Jackson’s first game, whatever division he ends up in, and I hope to see him excel the way we know he can. Effort, attitude, and joy matter far more than the label on the team.

No denying it fall is here and the leaves after today may all be on the ground. 50kph winds will do that.

Yes you have the correct way figured out Daisy. Isn’t it cool to feel and hear the crunch of the leaves under your feet. With the RV park closed due to the upgrade I have no leaves to pick up this year. Typically it is about 20 bags full I have to take to the dump. It will require a lot of clean up come spring.

Thought of the Day

Fall is the perfect time to turn over a new leaf. Unless you have to rake it , then just leave it where it fell.

September 29th

“Mercury Forecast Edmonton 13 degrees, Clgary 18 degrees, Mesa 27 degrees”

The morning greeted us with sunshine and the warmest temperatures we’ve seen in quite a while — perfect for Jackie’s walk and a welcome change from the recent chill.

After breakfast, I headed out for a few errands. My first stop was Golftown, where their fall sale was in full swing. I picked up some high‑end Srixon balls at a very good price thanks to a Buy‑2‑Get‑1 deal. For the math‑inclined: at $50 a box, that’s $150 minus the free $50 box, bringing it down to $100 for three — just $33.33 a box. A rare win in the golf world.

Next up was The Shoe Company, my go‑to spot for runners. Walking in felt a bit like entering the Disney World of footwear — endless shelves, bright signs, and discounts everywhere you looked. Many shoes were 30–50% off, and the clearance bins were calling my name.

I found a great pair for $39 and tried them out, only to discover they were basketball shoes with traction comparable to walking on buttered glass. So, the hunt continued.

My criteria was simple:

• Black
• Size 12
• Wide fit
• Good traction
• Soft soul

Thankfully, I found several options and ended up with a pair of Skechers designed for road and terrain — excellent grip, comfortable sole, and a great price with the discount. On my way out, a pair of Skechers sandals caught my eye. They were 50% off, relaxed fit, and incredibly comfortable. Two pairs of shoes in under half an hour, both half‑price — that’s what I call efficient shopping.

I topped up the gas at our “lower but still inflated” prices and headed home to give the car some attention. A quick wash took care of the rain dust, and a bit of Armor All on the tires and fenders brought back the shine. I even touched up a few paint spots with my color‑matched pen. The car looks great again — now we just need the rain to cooperate and stay away.

After a light lunch, I tackled the setup of our new Telus boxes. Both connected easily and work well, though I’m not thrilled with the TV reporting only a “fair” connection on fiber. That shouldn’t happen. That is a Telus issue.

On the bright side, the new remotes are fantastic — voice‑activated Google Assistant makes changing channels and adjusting volume effortless. These new streaming devices are tiny, efficient, and surprisingly powerful.

Thought of the Day

I love watching people with Smart watches., The watch says please stand up and move and everyone just looks like “Now what “

September 30th

“Mercury Forecast Edmonton 14 degrees, Calgary 15 degrees, Mesa 29 degrees”

The day started with that familiar Turner Valley dilemma: the forecast says one thing, but you know better. It always runs a few degrees cooler out there, so pants felt like the safe choice. The sun made brief appearances, offering real warmth, but every time a cloud drifted over it felt like the temperature dropped five degrees. Classic fall golf in Turner.

My men’s league may be finished, but our regular group is still going strong. No payouts today—nobody’s wallet got any lighter or heavier. Darn and good in a way.

The real story was the golf. With five par 3s on the course, that leaves thirteen chances to pull out the driver, and I don’t think I’ve ever driven the ball better. Long, straight, effortless. No searching in the rough, no bad lies, no second‑guessing. It’s rare to have a day where every tee shot feels automatic, and it was genuinely fun to experience.

Unfortunately, the scoring didn’t match the ball‑striking. The pins were set for the Club Championship Pro‑Am, which meant every hole had the toughest possible placement. Even a four‑putt made an appearance. All of us struggled on the greens, and it was a shame not to turn such solid driving and iron play into a great number. To add insult to injury the tee boxes were st back for the tournament so it added a good 500 yards to the total. Making some holes a little more difficult.

Larry and I were paired with a couple who had just joined the club. They’d been spending far too much money playing at Mackenzie and Blue Devil and were pleasantly surprised by Turner Valley’s affordability. Their story was remarkable—married for ten years, divorced, each remarried, one lost a spouse, one divorced again, and now they’re back together. An unexpected and interesting pairing that made for enjoyable company.

Despite the tricky greens, it was a fun day overall: good weather, no leaves, and plenty of laughs.

I’ll admit, I smiled when I saw the Oilers drop their first game to a team predicted to finish last. Bouchard played an excellent game, and as usual in Edmonton, the coach took the heat.

Thought of the Day

The coach doesn’t make any player look good, the player makes the coach look good. Remember that.