A close call

My students were back in class today, and this morning I asked if they had been up to anything exciting or had had any interesting experiences during their break. There was the usual collective shrugging of shoulders and shaking of heads so we moved on, but at break time I found out, from a student in another class, that one of my students had been involved in a car accident yesterday evening; in my book that's interesting!

The road from the airport here is long and winding, but unlike Lennon and McCartney's it's also very narrow. When you add into that mix the icy conditions and the fact that the snowbanks piled up on each side make seeing round corners almost impossible, negotiating it successfully is a tricky business. Annie-Claude, who runs the residence with Roland, picked up some of the returning students from the airport yesterday, and on the way back there was a slight altercation with a van coming in the opposite direction.

Air bags deployed, crumple zones crumpled and everyone was OK in the end, but it was a bit of a shocking return for both the students and Annie-Claude, who had only just returned from holiday herself. Never had this kind of trouble when it was all dog teams up here you know.

To boldly go...

Three days after my last post and I'm just about over my cold, so I guess the swines didn't get me. I was well enough to take the car in for servicing on Friday, and whilst driving is definitely one thing that I miss when I'm in the North, I could do with out having to pay excessively for the privilege. All four tires (that's how we spell it in Canada) needed replacing as well, but seeing as they resembled the automotive equivalent of Jean-Luc Picard, they had to 'baldly' go.

Talking of Star Trek (nice segue, eh?), I saw the new film today, and I must say that I left the cinema with mixed feelings. As a standalone piece of science-fiction movie making it was highly acceptable, but as a chapter in the existing Trek canon, it simply didn't cut it for me. Whilst there were some nice references to the original series - "I'm a doctor Jim, not a physicist!", "I'm giving you all she's got captain!" and even the inevitable death of a red shirted security guard - there were simply too many anomalies for the film to fit in the established Trek timeline. Without wishing to give too much away, this is (kind of) explained during the film, but for me there is a kind of Da Vinci Code feeling about it all; most friends who had read Dan Brown's book didn't care too much for the film whereas people like me, who hadn't read it, really liked the movie version. In the case of Star Trek, substitute original series for the book and you get the idea.

Whatever my personal feelings about Star Trek though, I think the franchise will be boldly going in its new form for a few years yet, in spite of the fact that the bridge of the Enterprise now looks like an intergalactic branch of the Apple store. Director JJ Abrams has taken his own Kobayashi Maru test and just about passed it by applying his own form of original thinking, and a (star)fleet of sequels is now a certainty.

Take us away Mr Sulu, warp factor three...

Now is the winter of our discontent

As I mentioned in the last post and in this one back in January, the folks back in the UK are currently enduring their worst winter for many a year. Melanie has just had her third snow day in quick succession and my friend Barry's school was closed for four days last week; to put the severity of the motherland's plight into context, up here in the sub-Arctic we've only had one half day off due to the weather all school year.

Now, for the benefit of those of you living outside of the British Isles, I thought I'd post a couple of pictures, courtesy of Melanie and my mum, to show you the type of conditions that have brought a nation of sixty million to its knees:

Just keep going, Britain. Stay strong, and very soon there will be light at the end of the tunnel. Our thoughts are with you.

Happy Christmas

Well, it's almost midnight on Christmas Eve, and I don't know what's more desperate; me writing this post or you reading it! We've been following Santa's progress all evening courtesy of NORAD, and as I write he's merrily flying over Guantanamo Bay (really!). Good job Santa has worldwide clearance, because otherwise you can bet he wouldn't make it out of American airspace. Shoot first, open presents later.

It's blowing a gale here at the moment, and in true British tradition it's also pouring with rain. Incredibly, the snow I wrote about only a couple of days ago has all gone, at least in our locale, and it looks as though I won't have to dig out the car tomorrow before we head out for Christmas lunch; maybe I'll even get to drive. We're headed out to our Australian friends, Tarni and Dave, for Christmas dinner, where a good time should be had by all as another turkey is thrown on the barbie.

NORAD now informs me that Santa is headed our way, so I'd better get to bed because he knows when you are sleeping and he knows when you're awake, which is quite creepy if you stop to think about it. I shouldn't worry though; an air strike courtesy of Uncle Sam is never too far away if things get ugly.

Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night.

A change in store

There are many positives to being back at home for Christmas, such as seeing friends, a comfy bed, Tim Horton's, clothes I forgot I had and being able to afford fresh fruit, but there are also negatives. For example, whilst I enjoy being able to drive again - although Melanie hasn't let me yet - the car had to be located and then chipped out from under what seemed like an entire glacier this morning (Melanie was more than happy to let me do the locating, though!). When we did finally get the old girl going (the car, not Melanie), our destination was the mall, and this leads me to another negative of being back.

Living in the North certainly changes your mindset in terms of what is, and what is not, important when it comes to consumerism, and although I enjoy Christmas as much as the next man (unless the next man happens to be called Scrooge), I have to say that I found my foray around the stores a little, shall I say, grotesque. I suppose my opinion is also coloured by the fact that we have less money at the moment than in years gone by, but even allowing for that I have reached the conclusion that 'things' really don't matter that much. I have learned to get by with what I have, and to be thankful for the fact that what I have is still a damn sight more than most people.

For example, for many years I have quite readily worshipped at the altar of Best Buy, but after ten minutes there today, I was done. There were many things in there that I would have loved to have but, as our good friend Kate would say, they were all a case of 'greed not need.' Now, whether this state of affairs is permanent or whether it's just a passing phase remains to be seen; when and if our financial position changes for the better, perhaps I will jump straight back onto the consumer express once more, who knows. Whatever happens though, the last few years have undoubtedly altered my perspective on life and, for the moment at least, I think I'm all the better for it.