Oakville Townhouse Renovations

The townhouse in Oakville was my home for over ten years. It was purchased to have a place for Miranda to live while going to Sheridan College. After she finished, Molly and I moved in until it was sold Sep 16, 2013. Over the years there had been many changes and improvements, however, most of the actual renovations took place during the last year.

I upgraded all the faucets, vanity in the basement, kitchen counters, front deck, deck off the bedroom, hardwood floors throughout second and third floors, cork floor in the basement, removed storage unit in the back and built new fence, replace all the stairs with oak stairs, used scaffolding to paint the living room high walls. Estimated costs – $15-20,000 in material and lots, and lots of hard work

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On Passing of Friends

Lest We Forget

Dr. Raymond Babineau

Was it yesterday or the day before that we met?

There was so much ahead to see, no need to revisit, only new

Friendships came easily and we thought they would last forever,

Naïve or strong belief that it could be different than our parents

Days seemed endless, and nights only a fleeting moment

Each day was a vacation

“Some day” seemed so far away, like Ferlingetti footsteps in the sand,

Making a difference was the most important

Then life got in the way.

Rolling Stones’, Keith Richards said that life is what happens when you are making plans

For something else

One day speeds into the next, like running water from a faucet, continuous

Pictures remind us of our past, lost, but not forgotten

We resist even taking a picture so the reminder cannot be cast as a shadow in our way

Some are melancholy, some never think.  It’s easier that way.

That way there is the numbness that can keep us from thought.  It’s called routine.

Like doing door to door.  Bedroom to bathroom, bathroom to kitchen, kitchen to car,

Car to office, office to office, office to car, car to home, home to solace, solace to sleep,

Only to repeat like the emails that won’t go away

The reason to play is for the one shot,

Like golf, there is one that keeps us looking for the next.

Of course there are the kids.

Just the thought makes the eyes sweat because men don’t cry.

The vessel of Hope holds so much

A cornucopia and a cacophony,

Like constant alliteration that runs off the page onto the next

Then being positive, sometimes, just sucks

Wallow can feel so good, like the warm feeling of relief as a young child in the middle of the night

Fatigue makes cowards of us all

Cause without contrast, how can we know the bold colours

Brian Tracy says that life is a series of problems, occasionally interrupted by catastrophes

Looking forward, however, has the best rewards, like blue ribbons that can line the walls

New friends, new day, new-ness

The freshness of knowing the world is better off because we’re here

Reminding us that all is well, not missing

“In touch” can cost so little,

Even Hallmark has no corner on the market

A note, a photo can hold so much thought and memory

Like a run-on sentence that doesn’t stop for a breath for fear of interruption

The best memories are the ones with sweetness

Worth the revisit

Was just thinking of you, then

God Bless

Pick Up The Rope of the Universe

It came to me in a dream some 10+ years ago. I entered a completely white room with no windows or doors.  As I entered, the opening behind me closed, leaving me in a totally white void space.  Suddenly I noticed a rope hanging from the side. It appeared white also, and about the size used in junior high to climb to the ceiling in gym class, except it was attached by a metal plate to the white wall in front of me.

I picked it up and started pulling on it, as tho by pulling I could escape this white room. After a short while, it occurred to me that I was accomplishing nothing and still in the white room. So I dropped the rope!  As soon as I did, the white room disappeared and I was free.  Ever since that dream, I have tried to remind myself to “just drop the rope”.

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Universal Thinking – Care About

Post 65 Dont Worry

Having read many accounts of those who have had a near-death experience, they nearly all speak to the fact that we spend too much of our lives caring about the wrong things. That seems to be a universal regret, that we have been lulled into caring about the things that we cannot control and which consume our lives away until it is too late.

Remember, it is always now!

What’s it all mean?

I remember the early R. Crumb comics.  The one character that intrigued me was Mr. Natural.  Other characters would seek out, and follow him around and ask the same question over, and over; “What does it all mean, Mr. Natural?”.

Of course, the joyous and inquisitive part of me came out and wanted to know just what R. Crumb could possibly come up with.  The ultimate, strip response came back as “It don’t mean shit”

That being the possible case, I’m starting to really wonder if it’s time to start having dessert first, for real.  Seriously, if I work out on a regular basis, avoid most other sugars, does it really make sense to stop experiencing one of the things that I couldn’t possibly regret.

Ok, so I am trying to look for answers again.  Being here on behalf of the universe, I feel some obligation to try to maximize the things that put a smile on my face.  Love is the answer!  I love so many foods.  But, when it’s all done, there is just that gnawing feeling in some small secluded corner of my stomach that murmurs out softly; sweet, please!

How, in the universal thinking, right mind, could I justify not succumbing to that urge.  Doesn’t that fall under cruel and unusual punishment?  Rules be damned. Chocolate comes from trees and therefore counts as a vegetable.  That’s it!

Remembering Jim Dorman

In June 2004, Molly and I were asked to pick Jim Dornan up from the private airport terminal at Lester Pearson International.  We were given the tail number of the private plane and found the entrance to the secured area.

Upon arrival at the counter, I asked if they could tell me what time the flight was expected to arrive.  The agent said we don’t know.  This is a private airport.  I said, OK, then can you tell me what time this tail number was expected to arrive because surely they would have to file a flight plan.  Without looking up, she said, sir, people like the Rolling Stones do not want anybody to know when they will arrive. That’s why it is called private.

We watched as Jim’s plane came in and landed.  We were told to get our minivan and drive out onto the tarmac to the plane to get the luggage.  Now that was awesome.

When we returned Jim to the airport, his pilot came over to the lounge where we were, yes, lounging, and said, we can leave whenever you are ready.  Now that’s the way to fly when you are ready.scan0040

Jim’s passing

There is a lot of life wisdom encapsulated in Jim’s Blog at the following site that some of you may already be following:
Here is a profound eulogy from Doug Wead:
Here is an unofficial bio of Jim and Nancy’s accomplishments in the world of Amway:
Tribute Video to Jim & Nancy’s Network of Caring initiative:
Additional videos:
Job well done!

Tangier 1970

In 1970, Kathy and I escaped the island of Berlin, East of the Elb, and behind the “Iron Curtain”, to Torremolinos, Spain.  It was really hot.  We took the hovercraft from Malaga to Casablanca, Morroco.  After being accosted by helpful youth, we secured a hotel and went for a walk.  As we wandered out of town an into the hillsides, we were elated in not being hounded for money.  It wasn’t long before we were discovered.  Oh, well, it was still peaceful and reflecting.

Poem Tanger 1970