SOME FUNNY STUFF!

Philip couldn't get enough of Julie and Johnny

Once Diane healed of her bicycle mishap, we enjoyed a very memorable summer. Three weeks were spent in Ontario with Julie and Johnny and a host of wonderful family and friends. We caught the August heatwave, with the accompanying unbearable humidity. Couldn't wait to get back to cool, comfortable, refreshing Kitimat (snow still on the mountains when we flew in!).

Philip had the time of his life! The first day we spent at great friends (yes, Eileen, I said great) in our old neighbourhood. Philip was up Sunday morning, got dressed, had breakfast, and went out into the court. Just like he'd always done. Six years have passed, but not in his mind. He stood alone for an hour or so on Rich and Eileen's front lawn...watching, waiting, wondering. Where is everybody? He thought his friends would appear, as they always had, and they'd play some basketball or get a good game of road hockey going. It was funny, yet sad, watching him. The excitement...the anticipation...the puzzlement.

Finally life stirred in the court and together we visited and reminisced with the old (and getting older) gang. While not wanting to admit it, or concede to the inevitable, Philip knew things had changed. And he was fine with it. We spent the next 21 days running all over southern Ontario enjoying the company of as many family and friends as we could squeeze in. It was hot and hectic - but well worth it!

On the flight home Philip bumped his head on the luggage compartment above our seats. It was nothing. We've been home now for 5 weeks. Philip remembers only one thing about his vacation...and reminds us constantly. "How was your trip to Ontario, Philip?" friends here will ask. "Bumped my head - won't be going back!"

Philip's cousin Lindsay is getting married next year...on the Island...near Victoria. It's a 3 hour flight...or a 2 day road trip. Guess how we're travelling?

It's that time of year again. No, I don't mean time for the Leafs to embark on another losing season (although that's likely the case), but time for the bears here in Northern British Columbia to pick up the pace in their quest for food. Winter's coming - and they need to bulk up.

So the sightings and encounters are numerous. Most sightings are more intriguing than they are threatening. The bears want food, and are quite content to limit their foraging to the river banks (fish), your fruit trees (apples), or your garbage cans (Diane's cooking). I'm kidding! I usually take it down to the river so it can't be traced!

A few weeks ago the town of Kitimat enjoyed a very unique occurrence. We were graced with the visit of a rather large, and certainly rare, Kermode bear. Of course, while those in whose back yards this bear spent some time were not that enthralled, those of us watching from a distance were quite impressed.

The Kermode (pronounced ker - mod - ee) bear, also known as the "spirit bear", is a subspecies of the American Black Bear living in the central and northern coast of BC. and noted for it's white or cream-coloured coat. A male Kermode can reach 500 lbs or more and stands up over 6 feet tall. It has been over 35 years since one was sighted in Kitimat.

In the Terrace Airport (40 minutes away) resides a beautiful Kermode (stuffed and encased in glass). It's a beautiful sight and a memorable attraction for tourists passing through this region. To have a 'live' one in our midst proved to be a unique experience indeed, and was without a doubt the 'talk-of-the-town' for several weeks.

However, regardless of this bear's uniqueness, he still provided some anxious moments and so the conservation authorities moved in and, according to the newspaper article, he was "captured and relocated". Some of us are wondering if that means "he's gone to the airport!".

Kitimat saw an unusual number of Grizzlies this summer, and consequently, the black and brown bears were sparse (they don't get along). However, with the weather turning colder, bears of all persuasions are appearing, keeping residents on their toes, and the authorities scrambling. Seldom a day goes by that we don't hear a gun shot (usually blanks) in the neighbourhood, driving the predators out of the area. Time for a visit, anyone?

Diane supervises a pre and after school-care program at the local elementary school just around the corner from our house. She walks to class each morning. These days it's dark at 7 a.m., so either Philip or I walk with her (for some reason bears don't impress her). Usually the jingle-jangle of keys, the blast of a bear-horn, or an invitation to dinner will send the brute packing. (Recently a seasoned veteran of this 'wild kingdom' of Kitimat suggested a much easier and less expensive way to scare the bears away. "If you ever come face-to-face with one," he said, "simply reach down, scoop up some fresh poop, and throw it at the bear. He'll take right off!" I was puzzled and asked, "How do I know there will be fresh poop available?" "Trust me," he smiled. "There'll be plenty!"

Is she gone yet?

So on this particular morning Philip was up and eager to walk his mom to school. I poured a fresh cup of coffee and settled in at the computer. Another harrowing day ahead of me!

Suddenly the front door burst open and in rushed Philip. Gasping for breath, he collapsed on the couch and started yelling. "A bear...A bear!" I looked passed him to the entrance and inquired, "Where's your mother?" "She's out there in the parking lot! She sent me home!" (Everything in me wanted to ask how the bear was - 'cause you sure don't want to mess with Diane when she kicks into defense mode!)

Anxious and confused, I prated on. "Was it a big bear? Was it a black bear? Was it a brown bear? Was it a grizzly? Did mom pick anything up and throw it at him?" Philip looked puzzled. I continued. "Should we call the conservation authorities? Should we call the police? Should we call for pizza - she might not be home for supper!"

Philip's head was spinning! My heart was racing! "Where's my coat? Where's my boots? Where's the remote - Jeopardy's just starting!"

The phone rang. It was Diane. She'd gotten to the safety of her classroom with the help of a coworker and wanted to know if Philip had made it home okay. "He's here...he's fine", I replied. "How about you?" "I'm good," she assured me. "Just a little unnerved". She went on to tell me of the encounter. "It was a small cub playing on the sidewalk. He was probably as frightened as we were and we were not likely in any danger."

Except that where there's a cub, there's a mother. And therein lies the danger!

Diane assured me everything was fine. The police had been called and the bears would be dealt with before the students began to arrive.

I hung up the phone...sighed with great relief... flicked the kettle on...and went to Philip's room. "How's mom?" he asked. "She's fine," I replied, thinking I might have to work through this traumatic event he had just experienced. "Good," he said. Then turned back to his binders and continued recording his scores. Sensing my lingering presence, he looked up at me and asked, "Can we go to A&W for lunch?" I assured him that would be perfect and walked away amazed at his take on life.

I made myself a fresh cup of coffee, checked the floor to see if there was 'anything' I needed to 'throw' out, then returned to my computer...and the continuation of my harrowing day!

A few days ago Philip came charging out of his room more excited than me the day I'd passed into grade seven after 3 years in grade six (c'mon...I'm kidding...it was only 2!). He felt it necessary to interrupt us with astounding news (we were deeply engrossed in the frantic antics of the Iron Chef...or was it Bobby Flay...no, it was Gordon Ramsay!). Regardless, it was very rude of him (heeheehee - it was perfect timing and I thanked him later. In fact, I've encouraged him to interrupt at will anytime he hears that the Food Channel is on).

I hit the mute button. Silence ensued. "What is it Philip?" I implored. "You're gonna freak out, dad!" (mom was already 'freaking out', 'cause I'd muted her show).

"Jose Bautista (Toronto Blue Jays) just hit his 50th home run!" "Wow!" I exclaimed, genuinely excited with Philip. We'd been waiting for Bautista to reach that landmark (he'd just surpassed George Bell's team record of 47 in one season a few days earlier). High fives all around!

Philip was ecstatic...I was jubilant. Diane was reaching for the remote!

"But wait, guys," Philip interjected. "That's not the best part!" I held my breath. Diane held the changer. "What on earth could top that, Philip?' (here comes the 'freak-out' part). "Dad, he hit his 50th on the very same day that I have exactly 50 pencils!"

Oh my! Stop the presses! Bar the doors! Call CNN! This is Breaking News! 50 home runs...50 pencils...all on the same day!

I think we just eclipsed the aligning of the planets in 2012 predicted by Nastradamus! The melting of the Polar Icecaps certainly takes a back seat to this! And raising the Titanic? Why bother...obviously a non-event!

We sat in silence...savouring this magic moment.

Then, as quickly as he'd entered the room, Philip spun...and was gone! Back to the peace and comfort of his room. Diane looked at me, a tiny tear running down her cheek...and 'un-muted' the TV. Bobby Flay had suddenly become boring! I curled up on the couch, dried my eyes, smiled with pride...and 'zoned out'...dreaming of a 'home run' myself (wink - wink). Diane, sensing her impending doom, grunted, threw a cushion at me...and assured me tonight she was pitching a 'no-hitter'!

Ahhh! Benched again!

Isn't life grand!