Vivre c’est mettre au defi (to live is to challenge one’s self). Je suis content!

Bonjour Bloggers.

Je suis apprends le Francais. C’est mon numero une blog en Francais. Pardon moi pour la errors. Je ecrite mot en Francais, je utlize google translate pour correct la errors, mais, c’est moi ecrite en Francais.

Vivre c’est mettre au defi (to live is to challenge oneself). Je apprends Francais pour duex mois. Ce soir, Je suis alle au l’epicerie. Une femme cashier assist moi achete la groceries. Je parle Francais avec la femme. Elle est Anglophone mais elle parle Francais bonne. Nous parle Francais dans l’epicerie. Je suis tout excite!

Je n’ai jamais pense que je parlerais Francais; mais ici je est.

Tres bien. Je demande vous – encore plus blog en Francais? Dit moi. Merci.


Aujourd’hui sur auto route conduit au travaille. L’homme est beau, oui?



Encore plus neige. La route est merde aujourd’hui!



Je lit livre d’Scooby Doo et toi – Le Mystere du Cavalier Sans Tete



Le plough de neige, Nouveau Brunswick style



C’est moi, dans Rue Brunswick. Regard, l’homme avec neige ventilateur a travers la rue.



Letting Go

A friend of mine spoke to me about letting go. This is a very powerful life skill. Without doubt, letting go allows us to be free-er, less burdened, more agile, and less resentful.

But it’s not that easy, is it? Why? Because perhaps, we have good reason to cling on. Such examples would be if we were thrown overboard and had a life bouy to keep us afloat, or if we are holding our mother’s hand on a busy city street when we were young children. But typically, for adults, the ‘letting go’ takes on a whole new dimension.

So what sort of stuff do we ‘hold on’ to? Well, hopefully, we hold on tight to the things that are most dear to us – perhaps our family relationships, our treasured memories, or our dwindling and ever-threatened bank balances? But that’s not always the way. Sometimes we hold on to bad habits, jobs that are demeaning and soul sapping, or relationships that are toxic.

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Sometimes we hold on to resentment, because our ego tells us we are right – that ‘those fuckers’ did us wrong, and someone has to be held accountable for making this situation shitty, at least in our minds. Sometimes, is possessiveness, or jealousy. We hold on to a person, or a set of expectations that seem totally legitimate to us.




What happens if we let go?


That’s scary, because we are giving up apparent control. It’s apparent control because it’s not real control, its just the control that we construct in our mind that boxes in what ever we are trying to control, because we are holding on, to expectations.

Now, I’m going to suggest something. In the universe, there is equilibrium. All things are in a constant state of force, reaction, and adjustment, with the end result being equilibrium. When equilibrium is found in our personal relationships and situations, the tension decreases, and things settle to where they will be, naturally.

But that’s not straightforward either, because life is a series of negotiations, occasional disappointments, and some glorious moments too.

I’m going to suggest that letting go a bit – of expectations, of resentment, of control, might just be the answer to reducing a lot of turmoil in our lives. I’m not saying let everyone and everything off the hook, there has to be balance, but allow things to be, and see what happens.



Intermission Workout

Hi Bloggers, I haven’t been blogging fitness for a while, but I have been working out a lot. These days its a combination of weights in the gym, and swimming.

I have workouts A, B, C, D, intermission (this one), E, and F.

Intermission work out – I put this one in to break up the regular ‘heavy lifting’ routine. It uses 8 movements. There are only two sets of each of exercises in the work out. It’s a really good mix up and it will keep you fresh between the sometimes monotonous classic movements.

I have blogged about my workout routines a lot in the past, if you care to troll my blog. If you ask me I can send you my workout routine.

Ok, here we go: here are the movements in my ‘intermission workout.’

Kettle bell Turkish get ups.

Supinated pull up (reverse push ups).

Kettle bell duck under squats.

Kettle bell goblet squats.

T push ups.

Bulgarian split squats.

Knees to nose.

Skid pulls.

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IMG_0585  IMG_0583  IMG_0581

IMG_0586  IMG_0597


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Ahlan (hi!)… Shaking hands with the Arabs, craft beer, Skyping my daughter, and the failed ANZAC cookies.

Hi, Ahlan (Arabic) bloggers.

Bit of a random mixed bag for you today. I wanted to share some good things, simple things and some inspiration.

So I work out at the Y. I noticed when I got there that there was a group of maybe 6 or so Arabic speaking guys. I thought they were loud. I honestly found them a bit intimidating. In a moment of tired crankiness I found myself getting annoyed at they way they spoke.

I chided myself for being so intolerant. I am an immigrant, in this country of immigrants. Canada is known for its kindness and willingness to take in people from all nations. Especially those in need.

Image result for syriaAbout 3 years ago, when the crisis in Syria was at its height, we saw images of bomb-shelled buildings and men, women and children fatally injured and others bandaged, and bleeding. From the comfort of a computer screen I flicked through headlines, then got on with my day. 


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Utter devastation in Syria. I’m glad we helped these people escape this chaos.


Canada, via PM Justin Trudeau announced that we were going to take in refugees from Syria. At one stage, Saskatoon had taken in about 450 of them. It was on the radio a lot, especially in the first year of their repatriation, and of course I would see them around the city.


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The Arab States.


I told myself, a couple of weeks ago, that I was going to make a point of shaking hands with the young Arab men at my gym. I was going to get past any awkwardness, and say ‘hi.’ I did that the other night.

I was quite impressed. One of the guys told me that he had only been talking English for a year, and he spoke quite well. They are in high school here. He plans to study engineering. It was really nice to break down the barriers and just be friendly. I will always say hi when I see them now. He told me that they went from Syria, to Turkey for a year, then came to Canada.

Ok, craft beer. This is like some sort of East Coast obsession. I’ve been visiting some of the local breweries here. There are some really nice taps for sure. Its nice to ride my bike around town and park up and get a pint. There’s one brewery/bar that is about 2 blocks from my house, and they have a fire place, and let people bring their dogs in. Its a really nice atmosphere, but it does get noisy.


The view past my pint glass at the Cider House, on Queen street.


I stopped at the Cider House bar last night. There was a couple of girls serving at the bar, and of course they spoke French (parle francais), so I got the opportunity to have a mini conversation in French. That was cool.

Tonight I Skyped my daughter. It was the first decent conversation that we’ve had in many, many months. I was very glad and grateful that she gave me the time to talk to her ‘ole dad. I plan to do that regularly. She’s a gorgeous young lady. Hopefully this will be a new direction in daddy-daughter relations, but we will see.



Bridge over troubled water? The old rail bridge, now a pedestrian bridge over the Saint John River. 



Tonight, there was an attempt to make ANZAC cookies. These are the recipe that most Aussie kids grow up on. Famous for being baked back in Australia for the troops on the front lines of Gallipoli or France – because they would be put in tins and stay well preserved by the time they made it to the troops. The cookies went kinda flat, so rather than ANZAC cookies, they were more pancake like. Nice effort though.


The view from Graystone Brewery. Contentment in a pint glass.


That’s about all I have to say at the moment. A good day. Bless you all. I hope this blog finds you well. Thanks for taking the time to read.



Even Flow

Hi Bloggers,

Anyone who follows my blog knows I like music. I’m a bit old school too. For the kids out there, if you are tiring of Bieber and Rhianna, get some of this red hot shit into your ears. I recommend listening with some earbuds in. Loud, but not too loud because you don’t want to damage your hearing, like I have! 

Ok, never heard of Pearl Jam?

Check yo’self kiddo!

Here’s some pertinent information for you sniffy nosed millennials sipping lattes with your heads stuck in your smartphones:

So, back in ’92 I was a flannel wearing wanna be punk kid with a bad attitude and a habit of getting drunk and spending all my money (which wasn’t much, I was an apprentice). Back in the day, Pearl Jam were tearing it up (like tearing up a hotel room, not tearing up like you would in a sad movie).

Just a side note, has anyone noticed what a damn fine looking young man Eddie Vedder was? Ok, that’s probably a redundant statement because grungy chicks (back in ’92, “still in a room without a view” (nod to RATM)) in flannel were probably drooling about him, but I kinda only just noticed this not long ago.

The kid was damn good looking, and had a voice that truly transcended his young age. He sounds as if you put a man of 45, with all that life experience – anger, pain, lust, rebellion, success and failure, etc, into a kid that was maybe into his early twenties, and his voice – the passion and the desperation in his voice just made it so, powerful. 





A (lighthearted) message from the dark side of divorce… A Heart Shaped Box.

Ok, hi Bloggers. I hope you are all well. Today, I want to talk about marriage, and divorce. When we are married, and much in love, the mere concept of being divorced, and all that it entails scares the living shit out of us…. Yoda says it right:

Image result for the dark side gif

Wait, I’m not actually divorced. I’m legally separated. Separated in space (two continents with the Pacific Ocean between us). Yet, connected. Financially, biologically with children, in name, with 23 years of in-erasable history between us. That stuff is never going to wash out. It’s in the past. It’s done.

But is it really all that bad? Well, yes, and erm, no.

Image result for the dark side gif

So where I was some months ago – if you troll my blog history you can see it all laid out in technicolor detail, was not a good place. That was when I was married. I had been married for about 18 years, and with my marriage partner since 1993. If you don’t remember 1993 its either because you weren’t born yet, or it was so long ago.

1993, hmmm. Nirvana were killing it. Paul Keating returned in a second term as Aussie Prime Minister, Bill Clinton got his sax out to celebrate taking the reins from the first George Dubya Bush, and a bunch of other way-back stuff was happening. I was a young buck of 19. There was no internet, cell phones were like bricks, and technology was pretty simple compared to where we are today.

So where am I going with this?

There’s so much judgement and puritanical shit about marriage as an institution, and to go against the grain, to challenge that institution, depending on the tolerance of  your community, family and partner can be perceived as the worst thing in the world, ever. Ever! 

From the dark side, I give you, the divorced guy’s state of the nation:

It’s really not that bad!

I’m broke, lol. But who cares, because I didn’t have any money when I was married, and at least I get to control my bank account now, lol.

I run my own schedule. It’s like being an adult, but now you have to actually plan your own shit, like bills and things. Previously, I just earned the money, and she spent it, or stressed about how we were going to pay bills.

I go where I want to go, when I want to go, and generally don’t have to check if that’s like ok, with everyone else. Awesome!

 I don’t have anyone to blame if my apartment isn’t clean, and I’m not stepping over anyone else’s crap. Pure bliss.

I have my own place. My. Own. Place. OMG what an awesome concept!

It’s quiet. Can you imagine?

But its not all beer and skittles. No, no, no!

I miss my kids. I don’t get to see them, and I talk to them maybe once a week, for a few sentences on the phone. They are on the other side of the world. They couldn’t be any further away. I don’t know when I will see them next.

The relationship with my children is extremely strained. Due to my biological disposition as a man, thus being the breadwinner etc, I went to work, while my ex stayed home. This meant that she got to be with them to get them ready for school, pick them up, and was there while I travelled for work. During this time she had their ear, and of course they were influenced by the tone of her perspective. So when she chose to leave, she took the kids.

I want to repair the damage, and I hope that the passage of time allows us all to come to terms with each other.

Lawyers. A necessary evil. A weapon of mass expense. I dare not say the hourly price my lawyer charges to quibble about who-owes-who-what. It’s scary, and stupid. It’s not that I don’t like my lawyer as a person, but I just hate the thought of burning through hundred dollar bills to establish BASIC SHIT. Spending money I don’t have. Dumbest concept ever.

Real estate: complete shambles. Losses deeper than the Mariana’s Trench.

Other than that, life is grand! Really, I am content. Happy. Doing ok! 

Just to finish off, I have identified two camps of people in the world. Those who have been through divorce, and those who have not. I have found that those who have been through it are typically more balanced in their judgements, more empathetic, and accepting. Not to say that non-divorced people are not open minded or prejudice (some are for sure!), but divorced people have a broader perspective on the hundreds of possible iterations that could lead a person to choose divorce over remaining married.

I’m not going to say that you should jump into something like this, because the implications are major – like monumental and the biggest type of decision that you might make. Having said that, if fear is holding you back, you might benefit from knowing that it’s not so bad, on the ‘dark side’ of divorce.










A Spiritual Reading…. Lost in the Light.

Hi Bloggers,

So tonight, I went to the ‘Spirit Cafe’ in Fredericton to get a ‘free spriritual reading’. There is a guy out the front, and he is a kind of a tout – like the ones that try to pull groups of lads into strip joints, but this is very different, because the spiritual café is a Christian type of organization.

So I went in, was greeted by a nice lady. She offered me a ‘menu’ of spiritual options, including a ‘spiritual reading,’ ‘spiritual healing,’ ‘dream interpretation,’ and some other stuff.

I chose the ‘dream interpretation.’ Of course there is a religious aspect, but it was quite subtle. I was asked to write down my dream so it could be discussed with the dream interpreters. I waited my turn, then I was led into a room that had two ladies in it, with a couple of spare chairs. I was introduced, and then they asked me to read out the dream.

I used my ‘snake in a cage dream’ (I blogged about it here). It was a disturbing dream, and I was afraid that I was going to get a bunch of tsk tsk, and references to phallic sins or something. They didn’t say that.

They asked me to connect with the lord to ask for interpretation for my dream. I did this as we all took a few moments to ask what my dream was about, in silence.

It was somewhat enlightening.  They had some good points – not really relevant to draw out here. It made me think a bit about a different aspect of seeing the dreams through someone else’s interpretation. They were actually quite up beat and enthusiastic rather than disturbed.

They asked me to pray with them, and they offered thanks for the lord bringing me to them.

All around, I’d say it was a nice experience, and these people really care and believe in what they are doing. Plus, they are collecting donations for the local homeless shelters, and I think that’s a worthy cause!

For something to celebrate that, I offer Bahamas, ‘Lost in the Light.’ Which, I guess I kind of am.


Gorgeous pictures from a fellow blogger. I’ve read some of this guy’s material. Too good not to share!

I rose early, before stars passed into daylight and a yellow, waxing moon dropped behind Furnace Creek in the west. Passing through Death Valley Junction, the distant horizon began to slowly change. Grey gave way to a thin red line, stretching north and south. Behind me, flickering stars faded, diminished until their dusk revival. Ahead, […]

via Zion — Travels With The Bearded Man

Dreams. Ok, maybe nightmares…

Hi Bloggers,

Dreams are fascinating, aren’t they? For some reason, I don’t know why, in the past week or so my dreams have been coming to me in vivid detail. 

Dreams are like a window into the sub conscious. They somehow reveal to us the inner workings of our psyche. They are unrestrained, untethered, uncontrolled and completely without ego. 

Fuck, what a concept!

So, being the wide open book that I am, today, the covers are going to be lifted, the drapes lowered, the knickers torn off my delicate mind, and you, readers will get a front row seat to the fucked up shit that goes on in my head, when the lights go out. 

Wooohhooooo (spooky noise accompanied by visual of a shuttered window opening and those really thin veil curtains flapping in the draft).

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Ok, enough bullshit already! Let’s get down to the nitty gritty sub conscious exploration!

Dream #1

Snakes and shit:

Ok, this was really disturbing. Basic scene was that there was this large cage thing like a bird cage, like you might find at a zoo or whatever. I noticed there was a bird in the cage. It had a very big beak like a baby parrot.

Something dropped – like a worm or something into the nest. The bird was perched a few feet away, and at lightening speed it launched across and snapped up the worm or whatever.

Soon I realised that the nest had one or two snakes in it. One of the snakes was very brightly coloured – like a blue budgie but as a snake. I wanted NOTHING TO DO WITH IT. There was a guy there who was like a keeper or snake expert. I walked away like I needed to get away.

At this point the most horrifying thing happened. The snake launched out of the nest and went into the guys mouth where it bunched up and the guy was choking. Yes this is challenging to write about because I woke up from this dream feeling very disturbed.

Dream #2

I lost my son at a large casino resort place:

Ok, this one was messed up in a big way, too. I am with my family – that is my ex, and our kids. My son, who in the dream is 8 years old. He’s autistic (in real life) so I am hyper-aware that he has extremely limited ability to negotiate and navigate his way anywhere (unfamiliar) without adult assistance (as he is in real life).

So we are at this very large casino type resort. Multiple levels. Somewhere between an amusement park, and a shopping mall and a casino. I recall riding in one of the elevators.

At some point, my ex and I realise that our son is missing. I go straight into level 5 panic mode. This is worst nightmare realised.

But thinking somewhat logically, I know that being in this big casino they would have cameras everywhere. So I was aiming to do the simplest thing – I asked my ex to go cover levels x and y whatever. I was going for the security room and I planned to have the cameras help us search the premises in real-time.

In my dream I never got that far, but it seemed so real, like I was doing all of this. Panicking but making sense of a rational plan to try to find him.

That’s pretty much where that dream stopped.

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Snowman Pickup Truck….. hmmm.

Hi Bloggers,

Some randomness for you today. I have internet at home now, so I will be able to get on line and blog a bit more again, but having said that, I find myself busy/preoccupied with life, and there’s nothing wrong with that!

So driving home from work yesterday afternoon, I stopped at the gas station in Harvey, New Brunswick. I saw a snow man, in a pick up truck. A couple of local lads got creative and mildly inappropriate, but it is only a snowman, so whatever. This snowman had a big hard woody! Yep, a snowman boner!

I’ve never seen anything like it and I had a good laugh. Of course, I had to get a picture. I reckon that’s pretty fucking funny!