Power outage musings

Never expect to be relying on batteries until the power fails

Power went out the other day across most of the entire small town of Camrose, as some tool digging and severed a main power line...

Funny enough, my first thoughts came to mind, is I'd be screwed if it was more than a few days without electricity. After watching The Walking Dead, I have doubt at my long-term survival rates. I don't exactly have a cottage or farm in the wilderness to hide out, nor the highest survival skills other than boy scouts years ago. There was no merit badge for zombie invasion defenses.

Just for show, now where does a plug-in go?

Not that I am fearfully mongering for end of civilization as we know it, it's just odd sometimes the reminders of how "lucky" we are in this modern age. My kerosene lamp is purely for decoration....

Check-list of basics electrically taken for granted:

• hot water tank didn't work
• furnace didn't work
• stove didn't work
• dishwasher didn't work
• coffee-maker and kettle sadly didn't work
• lights didn't work
• garage door opener didn't work
• even the doorbell didn't work

Lack of electricity forced me to take stock of how many modern activities are tied to electronics.

Even my shaver and even toothbrush are electric -- They hold a fairly good charge, but it'd be another five minutes out of my day to clean and lather up manually.



Less essentials are entertainment-based, but better than a pack of playing cards and solitary or cribbage sometimes.

• telephone via modem router didn't work
• Internet didn't work
• computer didn't work
• TV and Blu-ray player didn't work
• radio didn't work
• e-Reader book neither
• cellphone had a bit of battery life still, but it wouldn't be working soon either

The list went on and it was half frustrating because nothing was functioning. It was almost humourous after a while stuck with first world problems.

I could live without being able to check the voicemail, as it's an electronic mailbox. I couldn't be contacted anyway, nor write emails. Oh shucks, no twitter updates.


My room-mate tried to look online... to find out from the electrical company and then remembered her computer was quite offline. I hauled out the real, yellow paper phone-book and blew the dust off.

I kept flicking at dead light switches. Couldn't cook breakfast on stove, so I tried to open the microwave before remembering. It was quite the gong-show in auto-pilot as waking up.

The day the radio died, can't send a message in a bottle.
And yes, that is a tiny hand-cranked music box, very cool

Even had a moment of trying to leave for work as car was in garage, so had to pool with my room-mate. Made it through the day despite the lack of power.

I could charge my cell phone up in the car and check emails too. My ac/dc converter in my car works okay for the laptop too. I usually read paperback books and the weekly newspaper anyway. Paper notebook and pen still work so I could write onwards too.

I groaned hoping the power wouldn't be off for long. Living in the great white north, one usually has a fireplace, just in case. My current house is newer and doesn't. I have had the furnace die once at night.

Coldest night of my life -30C before the furnace repair guy came to fix it.

If I needed to, I could have worn my parka to bed again, and piled on the extra blankets. Still not fun seeing your frozen breath.

Yet, I was more worried about the pipes freezing and bursting in the house if it had been for a few days or if it hadn't been a Chinook warm spell.

Be prepared! Most days, I get my shoes tied

Usually I look things up online, Wikipedia or tech forums for extra knowledge or trouble-shooting. I've even been known to call my wise parents for advice from time to time. No connection there, though I do have a number of resource books, even a survival guide somewhere on my bookshelf.

This led me to a more annoying question of why I only had  maybe half a 72-hour disaster survival kit for me and my room-mate. I haven't needed to go on a long road trip, so haven't restocked my car -- which sometimes has enough dry supplies.

My room-mate grew up on a farm, which most are fairly self-sufficient, even with back-up electrical generators and a huge gas-tank. There was plenty to eat from the half-acre vegetable garden, root cellar, and firewood chopped too. So she wasn't too worried.

Besides, there is plenty of "no cooking" required recipes, so we would have made do. Petroleum jelly and a tin-can in the ground will cook a foil-wrapped potato or can of beans, even a camp coffee pot.

And funny enough, though I know there are 1000's of variations of recipes online, I still have a bookshelf full of cookbooks. 

As slim as an E-reader is for holding a bookshelf-worth
books is far from gone from my house

I was for a lack of what to do... but my room-mate reminded me -- she was happy enough curled up in a blanket on the couch -- as a bit of a Luddite, she doesn't get stuck on Facebook anyway. Happily she sat there with a book and I had to agree, it was nice and quiet.


Remembering people yesteryear did without much of our modern conveniences. It did make me think about how people have survived some of the most incredible hardships -- invasions, disease outbreaks, airplane crashes, natural disasters -- even the eastern seaboard took a beating recently with flooding, yet people persevered.

We're very resourceful as a species... from natives able to use every part of a Buffalo, moose or antelope. Building a snow igloo, latrine, or rain shelter is something only military reservists practice on weekends.

I have a ton of respect for traditional native resourcefulness.

Perhaps we've lost some of that knowledge, at least some city dwellers might have, other than boy scouts. From gold prospectors and prairie settlers, to seafarers and space exploration, that will to survive and innovate has gotten humankind through a lot.

Though I use a GPS and Google map directions, somewhere buried in my desk is a real compass (from teenage scouting days) and a provincial atlas of road maps too.

Pretty useful for zombies and all other game hunting eh

I couldn't help but notice watching the Walking Dead, or reading about historical accounts, nobody was lacking from lack of iPad news and app update or Youtube.

It still does make me think I should learn to use a cross-bow and tomahawk for fun. It seemed just as sad to watch relationships, hopes and civilization crumble, as most of our knowledge and literature is migrating to hard-drives and Internet archives.

I know I write this Luddite rant on an electronically powered laptop, but I can live with not having to use a typewriter. Those things tire out the wrists something fierce -- I could barely write an article last time I tapped and dinged for kicks and giggles on the typewriter I found at a garage sale.

Ain't gonna find this boy scout lost...
unless I refuse to ask for diections

In the greater scheme of things... I wonder for all our technology, it's cool to go in reverse on occasion. See how things were done in other centuries and find a simpler way of doing things. Reduce the carbon footprint and all.

Not to go all wonky back to the earth, like hippies or end-of-world nuke spooks, but reduce consumption. Try installing alternatives like power-smart appliances, light-bulbs and up to solar panels and grey-water filters. Even just a rain barrel for gardening, it can be pretty simple.

The power did get restored a few hours later after lunch, so I didn't have to defrost a pizza and cook it for supper, over a fire built out of the phone book.

It did make me appreciate how much we rely on that zappy, arching stuff that comes out of the wall a lot more.

My best-friends to kick-start early mornings

For more reading, check it at:

Worst Case Scenarios (my favourite bathroom reading as some are ridiculous scenarios).

More useful, 72 hour emergency kit building and planning check-list.

And a bug-out kit for the much more hard-core list if the power goes out for a while.

So stock up the duct-tape and water filter pump, but don't head for the hills yet, not until the coffee maker is useless. Even then, take a tin cup and a magnifying glass or something and boil that water somehow! Gotta get my cuppa joe.




Anyhow, as Red Green says, she don't find me handsome, at least my lady finds me handy.

Sub-zero Alberta?

Take off to the Great White North eh. Those famous wanna-be Canucks Bob & Doug Mackenzie had the Americans convinced it was frozen up here 365.

To brave typical Alberta winter can require layering of thermal shirt and long johns, woolly socks, wind-proof or snow pants, toque, scarf or neck warmer, ski mitts, even ski mask and goggles against the wind.

It's not the Great White North for nothing and before I found Baffin -40C rated boots I remember resorting to donning multiple pairs of wool socks.

That was a couple winters ago. Currently, the dress code is still ready for shorts weather.

Penguin hosers took all the cold this year so Bob & Doug need to do a reunion tour to update on the climate.

(Exhibit A walking on ice was taken in November 2009 -- I got cabin fever that year real bad.)

Christmas Day a friend in Calgary was complaining it was green and I had no sympathy coming from Victoria BC where it's a rainy Christmas regularly. Another friend wondered if we got skipped this year for winter.

I hadn't thought twice and figured it was a Chinook wind melting the fun of the tobogganing hill.

It was perfect weather for ice fishing, nice and sunny. I even did one of my last assignments of the year out on the lake. It only snowed hard in mid-November.

Yet in the past few years, I remember not wanting to leave the house voluntarily for weeks of December or January because the windchill was so frigid. I haven't even hit cabin fever yet so far, knock on wood... cabin.

The barometer is staying balmy so I'll reminisce on the signs of winter not appearing yet.

Had to kick my car doors to unstick them after frozen twice over-night instead of nightly.
Only been scared to be driving on overly icy roads a few times.
Have only driven in one blizzard, not weekly.
My heating bill is unseasonally low and that's okay.
Haven't gotten frost-bite practically for exposing any bare skin for two minutes.
My camera lenses have only fogged up once from a long assignment outside.
I haven't made any hot cocoa or taken any with me on photo shoots.
I haven't unpacked my parka and am still only wearing a polar fleece hoodie.
Have only used my snow shovel once to clear the driveway and three times for porch.
I've gotten colder in the hockey arena than when exiting it.

It's great for now. Yet I'm scared February is going to hit with a vengeance of blizzarding in the frozen wastelands. That or we'll have late snow in May -- not entirely unheard of around here.

Supposedly it's supposed to dip down to -15C by the end of the week. For now, it's a bit confusing and I had to double-check my direction of travel as I saw two flocks of Canadian geese flying north last week.

Suits me fine when I can't go home and decide whether I should declare it pre-maturely sandal weather.

P.S. I had to go through some of my archives even just to find some frosty photos. This last one was taken in late April 2007 when it started to finally defrost. I'm hoping it won't be a repeat deep-freeze.

P.S.S. I take full responsibility for jinxing this warm-front with my observation ^_^


~~ PLR ~~

more clean Sunday school jokes

Went through a collection of jokes, and some of them are pretty decent, but some were nothing in comparison to the real wisecracks and cheeky fun heard in the pews after church. Anyhow, picked out half a dozen and the last was just something that made me smile because of some of the lil'churches I've attended over the summer on my internship roadtrip. So do enjoy.



A Sunday School teacher asked her little children, as they were on the way to church service, "And why is it necessary to be quiet in church?"
One bright little girl replied, "Because people are sleeping."


A little boy was overhead praying: "Lord, if you can't make me a better boy, don't worry about it.
I'm having a real good time like I am.


An elderly gentleman passed his granddaughter's room one night and overheard her repeating the alphabet in an oddly reverent way.
What on earth are you up to?" he asked.
"I'm saying my prayers," explained the little girl.
"But I can't think of exactly the right words tonight, so I'm just saying all the letters. God will put them together for me, because He knows what I'm thinking."



A child came home from Sunday School and told his mother  that he had learned a new song about a cross-eyed bear named  Gladly.  It took his  mother a while before she realized that  the hymn was really "Gladly The Cross I'd Bear,"


An elderly woman had just returned to her home from an evening of religious service when she was startled by an intruder. As she caught the man in the act of robbing her home of its valuables, she yelled, "Stop - Acts 2:38!" (..turn from your sin...) The burglar stopped dead in his tracks. The woman calmly called the police and explained what she had done.

As the officer cuffed the man to take him in, he asked the burglar, "Why did you just stand there? All the old lady did was yell a scripture to you."

"Scripture?" replied the burglar, "She said she had an AXE and two 38's!"


YOU MIGHT BE IN A COUNTRY CHURCH IF . . .
1. The doors are never locked.
2. The Call To Worship is "Y'all come on in!"
3. People grumble about Noah letting coyotes on the ark.
4. The Preacher says "I'd like to ask Bubba to help take up the offering" - and 5 guys stand up.
5. The restroom is outside.
6. Opening day of deer hunting season is recognized as an official church holiday.
7. A member requests to be buried in his 4-wheel drive truck because "I ain't never been in a hole it couldn't get me out of".
8. In the annual stewardship drive there is at least one pledge of "2 calves".
9. Never in its entire 100-year history has one of it's pastors had to buy any meat or vegetables.
10. When it rains, everybody's smiling.


thanks to the wonderful people who have collected these clever and cutesy jokes over the years:
http://louisvilleemmaus.com/jokes.html

roomates - 1st year - sound & silence - pt 4of4

 

There were things that went on that were beyond what I can remember about the little moments when my roomates didn't notice that I was there and they dropped their shields while talking to friends. There was a lot of empathy despite my threats and grumpiness from lack of sleep and school induced stress. Not that I'd want to betray that trust though nor take photos like this spiteful person did of their room-mate's mess - I can only say some of mine were messier. I was lucky as I could have had nightmare room-mates like my friends bemoaned.


Room-mates who stole stuff, made way worse messes then my nose would have been able to deal with. Other friends in dorm had murderous thoughts about stereo systems fueling dance parties late into the night. They liked and used my pre-tested solution of playing opera and polka early the next morning in retaliation to their neighbours.


They were lucky compared to the people who thought dorm was a place to test out their wrestling skills. Someone got put through a wall head-first, was okay other than concussion and stitches, but refused to pay the damage deposit fine imposed by dorm. Other people on dorm had angry pizza delivery guys to deal with after prank calls, angry neighbours when they couldn't control their room-mates.

Worse, others had to steer clear of recently ex-boyfriends and ex-girl-friends after bad break-ups or loud make-up sex that didn't heal the wounds. That and creepy people who tried to follow their room-mates home from the bar. Compared to the guys who had bike races and foot-ball games down my hallway, I couldn't complain. Or the huge dorm party which resulted in all the furniture being piled into a fortress in common areas.


Or the fire-drills because someone was 'cooking' hot-dogs stoned and forgot about smoke if they passed out at 3 a.m. or lit candles for a relaxing bath which became less relaxed when candles started to burn through the counter. Not that fire extinguishers were left alone, one was shot off and into the vents and again we were evacuated while maintenance and fire fighters ventilated the dorm.


Other people forgot to ventilate the bathroom hot-box properly and in lighting up the bong and light the smoke alarm as well. This was at least once a month in the -30C. I got very efficient at loading my camera bag and laptop and leaving the building from pajamas to clothes in 30 seconds flat in case it was the real thing finally.

However, the night Halo-boy, a few friends and I re-organized the common-room was my fondest memory of the first year of dorm. For all the assignments, I was allowed to relax once in a while and partake a drink or three. Never again with Royal Reserve and I apologize to my liver for that night.

Appleton, RR and Lucky's beer aplenty, we had a great time. Emo-boy whined so much but we had a great time. Nobody took credit for the first move, but by the time Emo-boy arose in the morning, I thought he was playing more screa-mo for the amount he yelled. We were pretty happy with the new decorating style.

Sitting on a side-ways easy chair, I was calmly watching cartoons and eating kraft dinner mac & cheese, head cocked to the side. Non-flat-screen TV, chairs, table, small appliances, lamps, even posters were all side-ways.


For extreme make-over, Martha Stewart would have been proud. I was a lot less proud thinking about it now, but there's something metaphoric about said about the whole dorm lifestyle -- sometimes it just goes sideways for a curve-ball so keep on trucking.

If this says anything about why I decided rum shouldn't be on my diet in such plentiful amounts, I learned my lesson. Come to think of it, by second year I was a lot more calm about assignments, no less busy, but less in the drinking.


Second year was much more orderly in comparison as I was blessed with a much more sane bunch of dorm room-mates who got along much better. However, that's a different story for a different day. Hope you enjoyed ^_^

roomates - 1st year - sound & silence - pt 3of4

As you may notice, this isn't the easiest stuff to write about, yet my retired writer friend dearly departed, challenged me to find the humour in these situations, so I'll keep it up in his memory.

Anyhows... Emo-boy wasn't the one who swabbed the decks. Note the plunger attempt.

Finding a friend to stay with, Artsy-wino had enough after first term and his replacement in the dorm was even more crazy fun. Halo-boy was a piece of work, hot-boxing up the bathroom with Emo-boy, playing massive amounts of Halo while he was 'working' on assignments and drinking Lucky beer by the 18 pack.

Having cousins from  Vancouver Island where Lucky is brewed and affectionately called redneck champagne, I'm used to bone-head drinking and yelling, but having to write assignments and edit photos was a bit more than I can handle over the racket of Halo-boy and Emo-boy in a cage match of yelling over who got the TV for playing video games.

If I had a major amount of assignments to finish, the cable connection for the TV to Xbox went missing and then screa-mo would have been a nice sound in comparison. At least it was a truce.

Halo-boy was okay with this as his assignments were almost as many as mine. He still found plenty of time to shoot up Halo online or cook hamburger helper while drinking Royal Reserve Rum. He clean up the kitchen well enough and loved the idea of stacking Emo-boy's dishes.

Then came the night Halo-boy plugged the toilet. The flooding of water awash through the common area was the first hint that all was not right. Neither was him yelling at the toilet. I yelled back that the toilet was on strike from lack of fiber in his diet.

Never met someone who couldn't use a plunger. Halo-boy thought they were for scaling buildings. Suction cups work on a similar principle but as I explained the physics, he was fascinated.


'Physics are so cool! I always just let gravity do its thing if I didn't have a cherry-bomb around.' I'm not making that up and wonder how Halo-boy survived his mother's wrath.


Emo-boy was already flipping out as he heard the word cherry bomb mentioned. His room was next to the bathroom and we both threatened to shove his head in the toilet but it was already full. Halo-boy and I got along well enough.

That was probably the worst we could come up with, yet Emo-boy thought it was hilarious as long as he didn't have to clean it up. An odd combination of swearing, laughing and screa-mo but at least he was smiling, ish. What we put him through next was much worse...

To be continued.... madness pure madness which I hope strikes a chord and someone out there gets some insight to what happens when cabin fever hits room-mates during long Canadian winters.

roomates - 1st year - sound & silence - 1of4

Without much in the way of defense of male testosterone when the cruel experiment of throwing four random strangers into a single dorm suite without any warning.

Having moved to a completely new city and life to attend Journalism school. May have become socially tipsy, but I met lots of interesting people all over the dorm.

Homesick, worried about a huge amount of work, even just heart-broken from a summer romance, it was a great mix with Appleton Rum and cheap Albertan Big Rock Beer. Made up for it by drinking a lot of water and exercising when I could.

Wrote articles sobering up like Hunter S Thompson and interviewed amazing people, some of them still sobering up around dorm. It was good fun but I can't say that my own company at home was perfect.


An old sports-writer who lived in my neighbour-hood in Victoria roared with laughter when I related these tales, so I write after his encouragement and to honour his sense of humour as he's now writing in Heaven.

To avoid them grief and slander, I'll call them by their nicknames, Emo-boy, Artsy-wino and Silence. It was an odd match-up to say the least. Halo-boy came in for re-enforcement part way through the year, but it was a strange discord to be sure.

'What's wrong with you? Why is this place so messed up? I'm going to my room....' And tortured cats yeowling of guitars, dying singers and heavy bass would emit from the room at all times of day and night. Emo-boy had three CDs it seemed, all of them screa-mo. Which is exactly what they sounded like, screaming and emo crying.

Guess when he'd play them? To wake up to first thing in the morning or to drown out our request to turn it down. Artsy-wino threw one CD out the window eventually and would have repeated the process if Emo-boy hadn't started up exactly like his CD sounded.

You might think I'm being harsh, although he might have been a nice kid, he left home and didn't know how to cook, clean, look after himself because he was too busy moping around. Maybe because I had a reserve navy officer for a father, but chores and swabbing the deck were expected, non-negotiable.

Having dishes pile up and mold, floors go un-vacuumed or washed in the common room, and really, I didn't know how he managed to sleep in his room, let alone breathe from locker room smell. He'd stumble hungover into his pots and dishes when I got tired of it and piled them two feet high in front his door every once in a while.

Consequentially an amazing squeal of whining at 6AM over-powered the screa-mo music blaring. He'd pound on my locked bedroom door, still whining. Without rolling out of bed, I'd issue standard threat that I had the phone number of Emo-boy's mother and would call about the mess. Knowing I met her when he moved in, he didn't want find out if I was bluffing so sulked back to his room.

Artsy-wino was similarly tired by half-way through the term and made me breakfast in thanks because he was so sick of Emo-boy as well. I wouldn't have been so harsh if he did anything besides play video games and whine about classes. I wish I was 18 years old again.

To be continued.... stick around for this four part series of weird-ness and fun coping with madness.


-- PLR --


p.s.


To put it nicely, it wasn't perfect, but I was too tired to care after working long on articles and delicate issues, so here's some of the back-story of why dorm-life was so strange some days. Emo-kid graduated and was doing well last I randomly met up with him.

Spring: Winter's Horse of a Different Colour

Spring came three weeks ago in with a lion's roar of a near-blizzard status snow-storm. Six inches dump of white later, I made a snow-angel of protest.

Driving to work in the morning, I fishtailed like a rally car driver in the slush, trying not to ricochet off the parked cars -- just for fun.

Trying to celebrate the beginning of spring, I went out for iced lemonade with a friend at the Second Cup coffee shop. We had to sit inside as the patio chairs were  covered in snow.

So was the path around the pond near UofC when I tried to go for a nice spring walk. Not remembering I'd need snow-shoes, I decided against wading in snow-drifts around a pond full of snow and devoid of ducklings.

So I waited a week like most people in Canada if they don't like current weather reports. Temperatures jumped north of freezing point; melting icebergs in prairie rivers heralded flood warnings; spring was in the air.

Rabbits metamorphosed from white to brown, girls dug skirts out of closets, guys looked forward to working on cars outside, children jumped in puddles, people's smiles defrosted.

Weather up here isn't just an inconvenience for city politicians to squabble about whether to melt more money with snow-removal. Economic delays for everything from spring sales, outdoor festivals to house construction, shingle and landscaping businesses.

Now as I look out my window, I'm frustrated as inconvenienced molting rabbits as another generous sprinkling of icing sugar settles on my fence and shrubbery. Crocuses that popped up during round one of false spring are still frozen alongside the house.

Last night after a few hours of choir practice I attempted to make a snow-man, on top of my car. My friend looked at me like I was crazy for trying to make a snow-man in spring-time. Or maybe it was because I thought four inches was enough snow piled on top of the car for a miniature snow-man.

Frosty would have an icicle's chance in my rainy sun-soaked hometown of Victoria, BC. Four false Calgary springs later I still ask myself why I'm not finding rainbows and daffodils popping up as Japanese cherry blooms drifting down streets in early March. Tourism Victoria probably started annual daffodil counts to gently poke fun of the rest of Canada buried in Antarctic precipitation.

As I complained, my mom pointed out if there's a foot of snow on my lawn I don't need to worry about mowing it. Thanks mom.

Used to eagerly go for knee-pads and roller-blades in my closet to cruise downtown along the waterfront in April. Now less eagerly I debate whether to regain normal gas-mileage by jettisoning sandbags from my trunk along with the snow-shovel and parka.

It's a little known fact, at least in the city, that a horse of a different colour refers to the horse's hair may change colour as they age. However if registration papers say otherwise, a dishonest owner may be trying to sell a different horse.

Another little known fact that in Canada there are only two seasons. It's not CFL football and hockey seasons; not prorogued Parliament coalitions (more on that tomorrow) and election seasons; nor BBQ and Boxing Day sale seasons.

If in Victoria BC there is short sweaty 125% humidity summer and always raining autumn. In the rest of Canada there is a short dry summer with drenching cold rain as bookends transitions to white-out winter.

So if thinking of buying a horse, be suspicious of colour change, as everything might not be as it seems. If booking a flight from Victoria or anywhere else tropical to Calgary in May, be suspicious and pick up a clearance rack parka, as the spring-time might not be as it seems.

-- PLR --

v-day approaches so learn from the past

Now for something more light-hearted. Valentine's day cometh and that strikes terror to the hearts of singles and men everywhere. Once upon a time I wrote a cheeky guide for my slightly gothy girl and she loved it. Now I write for the nursing student I do love and adore.

As my sweetie Sharon does read this, I apologize if I got stuff wrong, but it's how I remember stuff. As I'm predictable at times, I have no intentions of giving away any surprises for this V-day. But as tech school grad, I do have the experience to recount what has and hasn't worked over the years when in college.

Writing and giving a poem to a girl I had a crush on? Win.

Finding out she was hoping to date someone else? Worst fail of high-school.

Found out she kept the poem on her wall for years when the other date didn't turn out. Win.

Finding out that knowledge years later in college when I'm already dating someone else? Fail. But no regrets.

Writing a poem for a girl I had a crush on in my college newspaper column while single? Win. Having her friends laugh at me as she walked away indecisively blushing? Fail. Thankfully I had developed a thicker skin by then.

Making brownies? Win. Almost burning them while making out? Fail. Asking Sharon to marry me? WIN three years ago; Hence why brownies were forgotten. Tie game.

Romantic dinner out in Banff? Win. Not making reservations? Fail with bonus round of searching out a restaurant where someone else's reservations fell through. Win. Taking her to the fudge shop afterward? Win.

Feeding on fudge and giggles followed by wine & cheese while watching romance of Mask of Zorro? Absolute win.

Cooking pasta for fancy dinner? Fail if it's a staple student meal.

Cooking grilled fish with white sauce & rosemary? Win.

Roses? Win. Farts? Fail.

Dancing in the kitchen spontaneously? Win.

Asking to go out for Karaoke? Fail. Singing on voicemail? Win.

Taking her to Bedouin Soundclash or the ballet? Win.

Most recently last year.... going out to a look-out point, in the dead of winter -30C with windchill, for a dance atop the hill? Chattering teeth fail. Having her cuddle up with me to warm up? Tie game,

Getting stuck waiting at the train tracks for the freight train on the way to the hilltop and feeding each other A&W fries? Win.

Calculating the number of miles I've walked just to see her? Biggest kiss of a win.

Doing Sharon's laundry or dishes on occasion and helping her with studying? Win.

Bringing coffee and a pastry or her A&W take-out favourite, a mozza mama burger, for supper when she's bogged down with research essays? Win.

Listening to her rant about worries on skype when apart and missing each other? Win.

Lads, the point of the dates is in the efforts. Girls don't really care what you do, as long as you put some logical thought into it to make it memorable. It isn't in the huge date plans made last minute or weeks in advance, it's in spontaneous stuff and the small stuff done weekly, like maintenance on your car checking the oil, listening to her requests. So learn from past mistakes and give it another shot. Cheers to that awesome date on V-day. But make it happen all year around and if she's worth it, it'll be a keeper. Good hunting.

-- PLR --