There isn't a breath of wind this morning, as I sit here in the backyard gazebo, the Sunday sun risen but not yet fully awake, much like myself, and if you care to listen you'll hear the many voices, songs and callings of insects, frogs, birds and Spring.
Mother Nature never works in silence; even in the stillness her legions of progress are busy moving forward, bringing constant change all around us. This morning the frogs and crickets seem to be leading the chorus; though a quiet mind can hear at least a dozen different birds, and the red squirrels are moving now too, back and forth along the highway in the treetops. Each one of them calling to another, working together as they build nests for the natural consequence of Spring.
Fitting then, that in this season and such surroundings, we celebrate Mothers everywhere; those that brought us into this world and raised us as best they could amongst the change and chaos that is Life. Some are born naturals, destined to have children and blessed with the talents and knowledge and energy to do whatever it takes to guide her charges forward; others seem more saddled with the task, slighted somehow by Nature, given the ability but not necessarily all the tools with which to perform; others start out fine enough, but life and circumstance change along the way, and success seems bleak at best.
It's never easy, not for any Mother, the care and concern never go away, if anything they grow stronger and more raw the older the children get, one's ability to protect her offspring lessened with time, but the urge, perhaps need, never diminished. The bonds are tested early and often, strained and repaired again and again, but constant on so many levels. As the children grow and change, they stay the same too, and the overwhelming emotion of Motherhood, Hope, is constant throughout as well, an eternal beacon on those darkest nights, a welcome refuge when needed most.
The songbirds are still singing, though there is now a rumble of manmade sounds off in the distance, the slow awakening underway. The cat repositions on the towel that covers the sun-soaked chair cushion he chose earlier, and gives me a quizical glance, but satisfied I'm no threat to his comfort, he turns over with a stretch and closes his eyes, resuming his morning nap.
We haven't been called yet to pick up the yellow Notice signs for our Variance application, but our next door neighbour stopped by yesterday to alert us that she had seen a blue vehicle parked on the Bay Friday, and watched a man get out and traverse our lot, taking photographs and jotting notes first from her driveway, then from the other side, checking angles and sightlines, no doubt. A concerned mother herself, she approached, confiding to us that her intent was to get a licence plate number of he unmarked car, but also chancing to speak with the stranger.
He briefly introduced himself and his purpose, and admitted that at first he was not keen on the idea as proposed, but once he saw the plans he was impressed with the quality and level of detail provided, and thought he owed it to the process to investigate more closely. He was happy to have spoken with her, confirming that she and her husband who would be most affected by the design, which would be visible from their front window and borders their drive, had signed the application in agreement with our proposal, and mentioned that he thought it would likely be approved.
It's too early to start ordering material and booking the trades - the formal process is far from over. But like Mothers everywhere, it gives us hope that our efforts haven't been in vain.
Sunday, May 15, 2011
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
Variance
I figured there was no reason to sit back and begin this process quietly, that I may as well start with a flourish and build up from there, taking no prisoners, and leaving no bridges unburned behind me. This might be war, so let's show 'em what I've got, keeping a few things hidden up my sleeves for later when the time is right, but set the stage early.
Yup, that's right, I brought Karen with me!
I figured it was time she learn what it is that I deal with on a daily basis with the City, and why it can take months to get a permit issued even when the job seems simple and straight forward. We arrived a few minutes late to our 9 am meeting thanks to my impatient driving in morning rush hour traffic (anyone remember the car pee pee dance? Yeah, that was me a little thing morning...) and then the City parking lot that is reserved for people visiting the Planning and Property Department was filled, and some yahoo figured his precious truck needed two spaces rather than one like everyone else, so we had to park in the metered lot further away... grumble, grumble, grumble... This patience stuff is hard. Give me time.
I used my contractor status, such as it is, to use the separate entrance to the waiting area, and introduced Karen to some of the staff that I have had the pleasure of getting to know over the years as I have waited for permit intake meetings etc, and as we sat she commented how "office-like" this area was compared to the more mall-like building we had just passed through. The low height t-bar ceilings and standard fabric covered office cubicle partitions and fluorescent lighting which was my reality back when I toiled for the City all those years ago are still in use here, and Karen noted the piles of plans and paperwork on counters and desktops, and I think she was beginning to understand the office environment much better.
Our Zoning Officer was late to meet us - he was on a call with another homeowner looking to build on a unique-shaped lot and was discussing the options and issues said homeowner would likely face in his attempt to construct a second dwelling on his large sabre-toothed-shaped lot.
I have had the pleasure of working with this particular City employee for the past 5 or 6 years - he had been my regular permit intake technician (fancy title for the person who I meet with and to whom I provide the information regarding our commercial construction permit applications) but had sought a promotion or change in employment scope, and was now located further away from the public areas, in a corner of the maze of cubicles that is this City office workspace. Having a familiar and friendly face to deal with on this matter is a bonus for us, and hopefully will allow the entire process to proceed smoothly.
He had to get another chair for Karen - he has 2 in his cubicle for guests - but the second one was buried beneath plans and drawings and files bulging beyond their elastic banded file folders. We exchanged pleasantries, and I introduced K and we visited as he began to assemble our application from the documents we had brought along. We enquired how long we might expect the Variance process to take and he said in our case - asking the requirement of a 25' front yard to be relaxed to 17' for the new garage and entryway - shouldn't encounter too many issues.
But then he stopped, apologized, and corrected himself, and confided in a lower tone as he leaned forward towards us across his desk, that he had shown our application to the Planner, whose cubicle is right behind his, and Mr Planner had said, "I'm not sure I like it." Gee, that kind of attitude reminds me of someone I spoke to last year about this...
You guessed it, Mr Planner is the lovely individual I spoke with last spring about our plans and who gave the impression of someone with entirely more power than his education or personality should allow.
Great.
We finished with the application, and were informed that it will likely take 10 business days until we're called to pick up the bright yellow signage that must be posted conspicuously on our property that advises any and all who care to read it, that we are asking for a variance from the by-law and for what reason etc. and that the yellow signage must be posted for 14 days, and then it may take another 2 weeks until a decision has been reached. We wrote a cheque for a little over $400, thanked our zoning officer for his help and guidance, and were led back through the maze and out into the main mall hallway.
So, we've done what we can do, now we wait for the call.
At some point I'm sure we'll be dealing with Mr Planner. This should be fun...
Sunday, May 1, 2011
Lazy Sundays
It's another quiet Sunday morning, and I'm enjoying a perfect cup of coffee. Well, perfect except for the missing cream - we ran out the other morning and it never made the grocery list - not that it would have mattered - no one has been grocery shopping since earlier in the week, what with the early morning (or late night, depending on your place of residence) Royal wedding festivities of Friday, and the subsequent laziness and afternoon napping they brought even though it was a gorgeous 76 degrees out on the deck in the afternoon sun; and then Mother Nature let us have it yesterday with a gloomy, grey, rain filled day that overnight has morphed into a Winter Wonderland. Talk about change.
We got off fairly easy though - mostly rain in that storm, not like those to the west and north of us - reports from home have drifts higher than the trash barrel in the back yard, and cancelled funerals and postponed graduations, to go with the odd abandoned car on Main Street.
Looking out this morning we're content to stay inside and watch old movies and take it easy.
I can go for that today. I need a do-over for yesterday. A migraine kept me sidelined for most of my Birthday, seeking refuge in the darkness and quiet of the bedroom. The weather outside helped with that, and made it less of an inconvenience to not be feeling well enough to be outside being productive. I'm sure the changing weather played a role in my misfortune yesterday - I'm still feeling a bit fragile - and I'm sure the doctor's take on stress affecting it as well isn't too far off either. Your body will have it in for you if you don't listen to it more closely.
We know that of course, but most of us are too busy 'being productive' to pay attention. Deadlines and urgent matters get our attention first and foremost, the necessary and the needed aspects of our lives get shoved deeper down the list; further to the bottom of the pile, until something gives and we're forced to change.
The call from the Zoning Officer got placed in a much higher priority than perhaps it should have, and it sent me on a quest to deal with his Variance Application as quickly as I could hoping to limit the length of the delay to starting construction on the project. I composed my Letter of Intent to the City along with printing off a new set of plans for the application, and then we spent a nice bit of Thursday evening going door-to-door and speaking with our neighbours and explaining what we were planning and what the City was requiring us to do and why, and asking for their support in the matter. Everyone we spoke with was happy to sign our application in favour of our renovation - and it was great to visit with the people you see everyday but don't speak with nearly enough. Remind me to change that.
But couple that flurry of late Thursday activity with a less than stellar sleep thanks to a Royal Wedding watching Spouse (who made fresh cinnamon buns for the occasion just like she and her mom did 30 years earlier on the occasion of Charles and Di's union) and a first-thing-Friday-morning trip down to the Land Titles office to have a title search done for the Variance application, in case you were fortunate enough to be able to schedule an appointment with your Zoning Officer for later in the day... and you've probably got a recipe for something to give.
So something did. And I paid the price, and today I'm not going to worry about it. I'm going to finish writing and enjoying this coffee, and maybe enjoy a Lazy Sunday Afternoon watching those old movies and letting Mother Nature do what she needs out there. Change is good for us, as much as we fight against it, and the sooner we learn to accept it, and go with it, the better all things will be for all of us.
Scootch over, and quit hogging the blankie, let's let this one ride and see what tomorrow brings.
We got off fairly easy though - mostly rain in that storm, not like those to the west and north of us - reports from home have drifts higher than the trash barrel in the back yard, and cancelled funerals and postponed graduations, to go with the odd abandoned car on Main Street.
 |
| Main Street Dauphin, MB May 1, 2011 |
I can go for that today. I need a do-over for yesterday. A migraine kept me sidelined for most of my Birthday, seeking refuge in the darkness and quiet of the bedroom. The weather outside helped with that, and made it less of an inconvenience to not be feeling well enough to be outside being productive. I'm sure the changing weather played a role in my misfortune yesterday - I'm still feeling a bit fragile - and I'm sure the doctor's take on stress affecting it as well isn't too far off either. Your body will have it in for you if you don't listen to it more closely.
We know that of course, but most of us are too busy 'being productive' to pay attention. Deadlines and urgent matters get our attention first and foremost, the necessary and the needed aspects of our lives get shoved deeper down the list; further to the bottom of the pile, until something gives and we're forced to change.
The call from the Zoning Officer got placed in a much higher priority than perhaps it should have, and it sent me on a quest to deal with his Variance Application as quickly as I could hoping to limit the length of the delay to starting construction on the project. I composed my Letter of Intent to the City along with printing off a new set of plans for the application, and then we spent a nice bit of Thursday evening going door-to-door and speaking with our neighbours and explaining what we were planning and what the City was requiring us to do and why, and asking for their support in the matter. Everyone we spoke with was happy to sign our application in favour of our renovation - and it was great to visit with the people you see everyday but don't speak with nearly enough. Remind me to change that.
But couple that flurry of late Thursday activity with a less than stellar sleep thanks to a Royal Wedding watching Spouse (who made fresh cinnamon buns for the occasion just like she and her mom did 30 years earlier on the occasion of Charles and Di's union) and a first-thing-Friday-morning trip down to the Land Titles office to have a title search done for the Variance application, in case you were fortunate enough to be able to schedule an appointment with your Zoning Officer for later in the day... and you've probably got a recipe for something to give.
So something did. And I paid the price, and today I'm not going to worry about it. I'm going to finish writing and enjoying this coffee, and maybe enjoy a Lazy Sunday Afternoon watching those old movies and letting Mother Nature do what she needs out there. Change is good for us, as much as we fight against it, and the sooner we learn to accept it, and go with it, the better all things will be for all of us.
Scootch over, and quit hogging the blankie, let's let this one ride and see what tomorrow brings.
Friday, April 29, 2011
I Swear We've Been Here Before...
sigh
Some days it feels like life won't cut you a break no matter how hard you try.
Last time we talked about the reno project and last summer's snag with the City's zoning officer and the illogical bylaws that one must abide by, or not. Since then, I've finished the drawings, had my engineer look them over and give me his seal of approval - literally - (okay, so its a stamp - same idea) and I booked an appointment with the City to apply for a building permit.
And waited.
Waiting and building permits go together like peanut butter and jelly. Trust me.
This is what I do for a living. I wait. I wait for plans; I wait for details to be decided; I wait for prices; I wait for trades; I wait for more prices; I wait for the City... I wait. And wait. And wait. And I'm getting rather good at it too, if I do say so myself. But I don't like it. That was never part of the deal, but it's the system we have, and it's the way that system works, so deal with it.
But wait! Theres more!
Waiting that is.
I took the waiting time this past week to relax and enjoy the final week of April what with Spring finally returning along with the Canada Geese and nothing seemed to fit the bill quite like doing my taxes.
The fun never ends around here, huh?
Yes Taxes! Yes, I know they are due on the 30th. I told you I'm rather good at waiting, remember? Anyways, I got them done and filed Wednesday and thought I'd finally be able to relax and just be for awhile. Apparently I've been under a bit of stress lately - or so says the doctor who figures the migraines must have a stress related component to them. Gee, can't understand where the stress might be coming from, can you?
Let's see, house reno plans drawn and altered and redrawn and finally approved. Check. Taxes organized and filed, and payments send in electronically. Check Karen's car in to the shop for its 64000 km checkup and oil change. Check.
Wait. Not so fast. Nevermind that this is a biggie in the Passat's service schedule - to the tune of about $500 - really, can you get out of the service area of the dealer for less than that these days? No, cuz, K's car has had a shimmy for the last couple weeks - I noticed it as soon as I got in the car one day - she couldn't feel it. It was obvious that the car was not balanced properly - either that or it developed a case of Parkinson's while parked on the driveway - or something, but it most certainly was not normal.
So our service rep from VW dropped off his car on Wednesday morning to take the Passat in - its one of the service perks we like about VW - and we gave it the once over before he departed. I mentioned the shimmy, and he thought about the milage on the car and we checked the tires - and sure enough the wear bar was evident on all 4! He said he'd check into the cost of a set of new tires to replace the Conti's that came with the Passat, and have the service rep call me.
Yeah, okay. That call would end up costing us another $900 what with new tires, alignment and taxes etc... It's like buying a new roof for the house. In the end you've spent a lot of money, and it doesn't feel like you got anything to show for it. Not something fun like a new iPad or anything. But it is the safety of the car's occupants we are talking about so okay, back to the list.
No, that's it. No more items. That's not so bad, right?
Insert ringing phone sound here...
Hi, It's so-and-so from the City Zoning Office calling... (why wouldn't it be?) ...anyways, about your application, you know you're going to need to apply for a Zoning Variance because of that reduced front yard, right?...
(fade to black, with the Zoning Officer's voice mumbling in the background)
sigh...
Some days it feels like life won't cut you a break no matter how hard you try.
Last time we talked about the reno project and last summer's snag with the City's zoning officer and the illogical bylaws that one must abide by, or not. Since then, I've finished the drawings, had my engineer look them over and give me his seal of approval - literally - (okay, so its a stamp - same idea) and I booked an appointment with the City to apply for a building permit.
And waited.
Waiting and building permits go together like peanut butter and jelly. Trust me.
This is what I do for a living. I wait. I wait for plans; I wait for details to be decided; I wait for prices; I wait for trades; I wait for more prices; I wait for the City... I wait. And wait. And wait. And I'm getting rather good at it too, if I do say so myself. But I don't like it. That was never part of the deal, but it's the system we have, and it's the way that system works, so deal with it.
But wait! Theres more!
Waiting that is.
I took the waiting time this past week to relax and enjoy the final week of April what with Spring finally returning along with the Canada Geese and nothing seemed to fit the bill quite like doing my taxes.
The fun never ends around here, huh?
Yes Taxes! Yes, I know they are due on the 30th. I told you I'm rather good at waiting, remember? Anyways, I got them done and filed Wednesday and thought I'd finally be able to relax and just be for awhile. Apparently I've been under a bit of stress lately - or so says the doctor who figures the migraines must have a stress related component to them. Gee, can't understand where the stress might be coming from, can you?
Let's see, house reno plans drawn and altered and redrawn and finally approved. Check. Taxes organized and filed, and payments send in electronically. Check Karen's car in to the shop for its 64000 km checkup and oil change. Check.
Wait. Not so fast. Nevermind that this is a biggie in the Passat's service schedule - to the tune of about $500 - really, can you get out of the service area of the dealer for less than that these days? No, cuz, K's car has had a shimmy for the last couple weeks - I noticed it as soon as I got in the car one day - she couldn't feel it. It was obvious that the car was not balanced properly - either that or it developed a case of Parkinson's while parked on the driveway - or something, but it most certainly was not normal.
So our service rep from VW dropped off his car on Wednesday morning to take the Passat in - its one of the service perks we like about VW - and we gave it the once over before he departed. I mentioned the shimmy, and he thought about the milage on the car and we checked the tires - and sure enough the wear bar was evident on all 4! He said he'd check into the cost of a set of new tires to replace the Conti's that came with the Passat, and have the service rep call me.
Yeah, okay. That call would end up costing us another $900 what with new tires, alignment and taxes etc... It's like buying a new roof for the house. In the end you've spent a lot of money, and it doesn't feel like you got anything to show for it. Not something fun like a new iPad or anything. But it is the safety of the car's occupants we are talking about so okay, back to the list.
No, that's it. No more items. That's not so bad, right?
Insert ringing phone sound here...
Hi, It's so-and-so from the City Zoning Office calling... (why wouldn't it be?) ...anyways, about your application, you know you're going to need to apply for a Zoning Variance because of that reduced front yard, right?...
(fade to black, with the Zoning Officer's voice mumbling in the background)
sigh...
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
Here we go again
I started this blog a little over a year ago to document the changes we were planning to undertake in transforming our house at that time. After a few years of planning and procrastinating we were ready to take the plunge and finally get to redo-ing the kitchen.
Here's A Look Back, for those of you who joined us late.
It seemed like things were about to take off.
And they did, only to crash back to earth a short while later.
We managed to get the electrical panel replaced with a larger, more spacious model; one with room to grow. And we got the new lot survey done and updated, and I brought in my structural engineer to advise me on beam sizes and concrete foundation pile work, and we began to plan in earnest.
I ran my idea for expansion into the existing way too small single car garage past the City Planning official, who seemed to exhibit a bit of a God complex, or he was compensating for some other short-coming, whichever, or both, and I got the distinct impression he wasn't keen on my idea, and without coming out and saying it, hinted strongly at the likelihood of me not gating a variance to convert the garage into living space.
I could park on my driveway as long as it led to a parking space ie, pad or garage. Except I wanted to convert my garage into the new kitchen space. If we did that, then the current parking location on the existing driveway would cease to be a driveway (the magic that is city bylaws) and we'd be in violation of the by law because we were now parked in the front yard - even though the cars hadn't moved an inch from where they have always parked.
I didn't want to have to fight that hard to build the kitchen we wanted, and have to go for a variance and then possibly get turned down, or get approved but then be so late into the construction season that we couldn't finish.
So we postponed, and I devoured the by law and found what I needed to get past the hurdle.
If I covered the existing parking space /driveway by building a new garage and still had the minimum required distance from the front of said new garage to the front property line (ie, new driveway) Voila! No more bylaw issues.
Except that would mean building a new double garage in front of the existing single car garage.
Which would also mean covering the existing front entry with the new garage.
So? Build a new entry along with the garage. Simple, right?
Well, sure. But take a look at the existing house again:
Now picture a new extension in line with the side of the existing garage, coming forward about 20 feet, wide enough to park 2 cars in. For those of you spatially challenged, that would be about as wide as from the corner of the existing garage over to the siding by the existing entry, and then about 8 feet in front of the existing house.
Here, let me show you:
I also drew in the new entry over on the other side over there. Yeah, I know it doesn't look like anything. Bite me. This was a quick sketch to show you where we're headed. Keep up.
Did I mention my headaches make me snarky?
Maybe just a little.
So, if you've followed along this far, you now see our dilemma. This is ALOT more involved now than it was a year ago. This means new foundation work. Which means about 6 or 7 - 20' deep 16" diameter piles and a bunch of conceret grade beams. And a whole lot of roof framing. I can't just walk outside with my magic yellow line drawing thing and build this addition out there. Nevermind the interior work - which, realistically? looks like Phase 2 of this project now. More work, means more budget, and more time. It also means a redo plan-wise to make sure what looks fairly simple can actually be done.
I have faith I can make it work. It's just construction. Sure it will be a big upheaval of our lives, and eat up any free time I have, and eat into our Disney vacation plans.
But we can park where we want...
Here's A Look Back, for those of you who joined us late.
It seemed like things were about to take off.
And they did, only to crash back to earth a short while later.
We managed to get the electrical panel replaced with a larger, more spacious model; one with room to grow. And we got the new lot survey done and updated, and I brought in my structural engineer to advise me on beam sizes and concrete foundation pile work, and we began to plan in earnest.
I ran my idea for expansion into the existing way too small single car garage past the City Planning official, who seemed to exhibit a bit of a God complex, or he was compensating for some other short-coming, whichever, or both, and I got the distinct impression he wasn't keen on my idea, and without coming out and saying it, hinted strongly at the likelihood of me not gating a variance to convert the garage into living space.
I could park on my driveway as long as it led to a parking space ie, pad or garage. Except I wanted to convert my garage into the new kitchen space. If we did that, then the current parking location on the existing driveway would cease to be a driveway (the magic that is city bylaws) and we'd be in violation of the by law because we were now parked in the front yard - even though the cars hadn't moved an inch from where they have always parked.
I didn't want to have to fight that hard to build the kitchen we wanted, and have to go for a variance and then possibly get turned down, or get approved but then be so late into the construction season that we couldn't finish.
So we postponed, and I devoured the by law and found what I needed to get past the hurdle.
If I covered the existing parking space /driveway by building a new garage and still had the minimum required distance from the front of said new garage to the front property line (ie, new driveway) Voila! No more bylaw issues.
Except that would mean building a new double garage in front of the existing single car garage.
Which would also mean covering the existing front entry with the new garage.
So? Build a new entry along with the garage. Simple, right?
Well, sure. But take a look at the existing house again:
Here, let me show you:
Did I mention my headaches make me snarky?
Maybe just a little.
So, if you've followed along this far, you now see our dilemma. This is ALOT more involved now than it was a year ago. This means new foundation work. Which means about 6 or 7 - 20' deep 16" diameter piles and a bunch of conceret grade beams. And a whole lot of roof framing. I can't just walk outside with my magic yellow line drawing thing and build this addition out there. Nevermind the interior work - which, realistically? looks like Phase 2 of this project now. More work, means more budget, and more time. It also means a redo plan-wise to make sure what looks fairly simple can actually be done.
I have faith I can make it work. It's just construction. Sure it will be a big upheaval of our lives, and eat up any free time I have, and eat into our Disney vacation plans.
But we can park where we want...
Monday, June 21, 2010
Two steps forward...
It rained again today; a steady, slow drenching that has left the yard soggy and the mosquitoes enormous, and our spirits a little more down in the dumps than usual. We still haven't found summer hiding among the daisies and the peony bushes - but we've searched, quietly when mother nature wasn't trying to drown us, which seems like every other day again this year, and frankly, we're tired of it. But what can we do? Protest marches? Letter writing campaign? Facebook petition? It's a losing battle, we know, and someday we'll figure out that we haven't lost anything in days like these, except the ability to spot the normal perfectness that is all around us.
Life gives us what we need, not what we want. We know this, but we rally against life and try to find something to control, something to own, something to quiet the distant ache of uneasiness and unhappiness, something to fill us up and make us feel whole and worthy, of what we are not certain, but worthy just the same.
And so we struggle, instead of letting go and accepting our fate and enjoying the ride.
It's been a month of struggle around here lately. Self imposed struggle you might say, thanks to our decision months ago to enter our first ever half-marathon. Somewhere in the last year we found a past-time that seemed innocent enough, a pair of running shoes, shorts and t-shirt and off you go, one foot in front of the other. Babies can do this. Babies DO do this, and we celebrate them when they do, and then they grow older and they run everywhere and are full of energy and we stand back in awe of how it must feel to be so full of energy and vigour and get-up-and-go... No one celebrates when a couple of 40 somethings decide its time they got off their rear ends and starting moving a bit more quickly, and cut back on the cream and the sugar and the sweets, and wake up when it's still dark and put on those running shoes and shorts and t-shirts and slip out to run a few miles and get back home before the rest of the world wakes up and sees them and points and wonders what the hell those two think they're up too?
We still don't consider ourselves 'runners' - that label we seem to save for those gazelle-like creatures who flow when they run, effortless movement through space, feet barely touching ground before lifting off once more; unlike our still slowish plodding and noisy, heavy, thumping on the uneven pavement. The gazelles run continuously; we break up our running with regular walk breaks, allowing our older, tired bodies a wonderful recovery and extending our runs in the process.
Not that we ever aspired to become gazelles; these leopards aren't changing the spots they were dealt, let's face it. But a year ago we walked / ran the 2.6 mile Super Run during the annual Father's Day Manitoba Marathon; by October we had fooled ourselves into running a race, an evening race no less, while on vacation in Florida. I tackled the Tower of Terror 13K while the rest of the family took on the 5K. We survived, and enjoyed it enough to bump up the challenge to the next level, hence this years half-marathon.
No longer content with the Super Run, or the 10K Walk, we took on the Half Marathon, 13.1 miles (20K). We entered a real race! And so we trained, quietly, slowly, methodically; building up our strength and stamina along the way, not fooling ourselves into thinking we had become anything more than better runners than we had been a year ago. And that was fine. This half marathon's goal was just to finish, no stress of a time goal needed.
And even that looked like it might be pushing it, when we both ended up with injuries and in physiotherapy two weeks before the event. One of us was left with the desire to run but without the ability (thanks to my ITBand flair up) and the other battled lack of energy and motivation to continue mixed in with hip / back issues that hampered the ability even once the motivation returned. But with fantastic assistance from our wonderful friend and therapist, we both healed sufficiently to continue with our plans and so we found ourselves on this past Sunday, lined up safely behind the gazelles and the cheetahs, back with the warthogs and elephants and tortoises, but lined up just the same, waiting for the crack of the starters pistol and Chariots of Fire and then we did it. Step by step, mile after mile, surrounded by runners from every walk of life, every size, shape, gender and possible running style or lack thereof, all progressing toward our own personal goals.
We slowed as the miles passed, Karen hit a wall near mile 7 so we walked more and talked more, and enjoyed the cool shady confines of the neighbourhood and the hospitality of the residents cheering everyone on from their lawn chairs, curbside Sunday morning, and once she regained her energy, we picked up the pace a bit again, mindful of our previous injuries, but determined to find that finish line.
A few more miles on we passed through our own neighbourhood, no thoughts of turning and heading home this morning, we continued on, and soon found ourselves within earshot of the PA announcer and the spectators and the wonderful volunteers waiting inside the University Stadium. We conserved our strength as we headed into the stadium grounds, and stepped onto the track together running in unison, side by side, urging each other through the cramping leg muscles and the aching joints, listened as our names were announced, and then with a determined effort, rounded the final bend and headed for the finish line. Cheered on by the volunteers lining the track at the finish zone, congratulated as we crossed, and rewarded with a medal for our efforts, we high fived and congratulated each other, and ourselves, and were absorbed into the crowd of recovering runners behind the stadium grandstand.
We accomplished what set out to do! And we felt great!
Shiny medals around our necks a reminder of that fact, and it was fitting we would do it the way we did, slowed by injuries, hungry for more but not quite able to get there, humbled in the process, and ultimately left to accept our circumstances and deal with them as best we could. Why would it work out any other way?
We got what we needed, and on this Sunday, it was also exactly what we wanted.
Life gives us what we need, not what we want. We know this, but we rally against life and try to find something to control, something to own, something to quiet the distant ache of uneasiness and unhappiness, something to fill us up and make us feel whole and worthy, of what we are not certain, but worthy just the same.
And so we struggle, instead of letting go and accepting our fate and enjoying the ride.
It's been a month of struggle around here lately. Self imposed struggle you might say, thanks to our decision months ago to enter our first ever half-marathon. Somewhere in the last year we found a past-time that seemed innocent enough, a pair of running shoes, shorts and t-shirt and off you go, one foot in front of the other. Babies can do this. Babies DO do this, and we celebrate them when they do, and then they grow older and they run everywhere and are full of energy and we stand back in awe of how it must feel to be so full of energy and vigour and get-up-and-go... No one celebrates when a couple of 40 somethings decide its time they got off their rear ends and starting moving a bit more quickly, and cut back on the cream and the sugar and the sweets, and wake up when it's still dark and put on those running shoes and shorts and t-shirts and slip out to run a few miles and get back home before the rest of the world wakes up and sees them and points and wonders what the hell those two think they're up too?
We still don't consider ourselves 'runners' - that label we seem to save for those gazelle-like creatures who flow when they run, effortless movement through space, feet barely touching ground before lifting off once more; unlike our still slowish plodding and noisy, heavy, thumping on the uneven pavement. The gazelles run continuously; we break up our running with regular walk breaks, allowing our older, tired bodies a wonderful recovery and extending our runs in the process.
Not that we ever aspired to become gazelles; these leopards aren't changing the spots they were dealt, let's face it. But a year ago we walked / ran the 2.6 mile Super Run during the annual Father's Day Manitoba Marathon; by October we had fooled ourselves into running a race, an evening race no less, while on vacation in Florida. I tackled the Tower of Terror 13K while the rest of the family took on the 5K. We survived, and enjoyed it enough to bump up the challenge to the next level, hence this years half-marathon.
No longer content with the Super Run, or the 10K Walk, we took on the Half Marathon, 13.1 miles (20K). We entered a real race! And so we trained, quietly, slowly, methodically; building up our strength and stamina along the way, not fooling ourselves into thinking we had become anything more than better runners than we had been a year ago. And that was fine. This half marathon's goal was just to finish, no stress of a time goal needed.
And even that looked like it might be pushing it, when we both ended up with injuries and in physiotherapy two weeks before the event. One of us was left with the desire to run but without the ability (thanks to my ITBand flair up) and the other battled lack of energy and motivation to continue mixed in with hip / back issues that hampered the ability even once the motivation returned. But with fantastic assistance from our wonderful friend and therapist, we both healed sufficiently to continue with our plans and so we found ourselves on this past Sunday, lined up safely behind the gazelles and the cheetahs, back with the warthogs and elephants and tortoises, but lined up just the same, waiting for the crack of the starters pistol and Chariots of Fire and then we did it. Step by step, mile after mile, surrounded by runners from every walk of life, every size, shape, gender and possible running style or lack thereof, all progressing toward our own personal goals.
We slowed as the miles passed, Karen hit a wall near mile 7 so we walked more and talked more, and enjoyed the cool shady confines of the neighbourhood and the hospitality of the residents cheering everyone on from their lawn chairs, curbside Sunday morning, and once she regained her energy, we picked up the pace a bit again, mindful of our previous injuries, but determined to find that finish line.
A few more miles on we passed through our own neighbourhood, no thoughts of turning and heading home this morning, we continued on, and soon found ourselves within earshot of the PA announcer and the spectators and the wonderful volunteers waiting inside the University Stadium. We conserved our strength as we headed into the stadium grounds, and stepped onto the track together running in unison, side by side, urging each other through the cramping leg muscles and the aching joints, listened as our names were announced, and then with a determined effort, rounded the final bend and headed for the finish line. Cheered on by the volunteers lining the track at the finish zone, congratulated as we crossed, and rewarded with a medal for our efforts, we high fived and congratulated each other, and ourselves, and were absorbed into the crowd of recovering runners behind the stadium grandstand.
We accomplished what set out to do! And we felt great!
Shiny medals around our necks a reminder of that fact, and it was fitting we would do it the way we did, slowed by injuries, hungry for more but not quite able to get there, humbled in the process, and ultimately left to accept our circumstances and deal with them as best we could. Why would it work out any other way?
We got what we needed, and on this Sunday, it was also exactly what we wanted.
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
Buried treasure
It's been said that renovations are not for the faint of heart. There are the myriad of decisions that must be made, often well in advance of the actual project; the upheaval of regular routines; the debris; the stress; the cost; and of course the ever-present uncertainty of what lay ahead. We haven't even swung a hammer and we've been tested far beyond what we ever thought we'd have to endure at this point - with little to show for our time and energy beyond plans, calculations, and headaches.
So we gave our hearts some time to recover; a break from the decisions and questions and uncertainty, and we left well enough alone last week. Almost like hitting the pause button while watching a jugglers performance: all the balls are still in mid-air; arms outstretched ready to catch and release the next one; all focus frozen in time. Plus the weather is nice for this time of year, so we've been enjoying Spring come early - given what we endured last year in the pretext of being Summer - we deserve this bit of paradise while it lasts.
In between the lawn raking and window washing, we grabbed a shovel and some steel pry-bars and removed a cast concrete drain diverter sidewalk pad at the front corner of the garage. It was no small feat - having sat in it's present location for almost 50 years, wedged in place between gradebeam and sidewalk, and those nasty shrub roots and shoots that refuse to die...
But we did manage to wiggle it free and out of the way so we could dig down in that area to see what treasure lay buried beneath. We weren't searching for gold - though that would have been a welcome bonus - instead we were after a precious cargo of a different sort; one that might only appeal to builders: evidence of a concrete pile.
No, we don't need to see a doctor.
The concrete pile in question would be a very welcome sight, in that it would allow us to continue our plans of garage conversion, provided it was of sufficient size to carry the additional loads required by the new framing. So I dug down and after a few false finds which consisted of bits of excess concrete from the original construction and the odd root, I finally struck construction gold, and located a solid, non-movable surface inside the dark clay and soil hole I'd created.
With a bit more excavation - mostly by hand - I had uncovered the top of a circular concrete pour, about 18" in diameter, as best I could measure since a good quarter of the pile is hidden beneath the garage grade beam concrete, with a bit of exposed re-bar tying the two together, and with a bit more fine-tuned digging, the outside edges were revealed as well.
So our garage was built as we had hoped, with proper foundational support. I sent off details of our findings to the engineer for his consideration, installed some wooden stakes around the hole, tied them with bright pink survey flagging tape to keep the neighbor's kids from falling in, and called it a day.
We still don't know in which direction our next steps will be with this project, but at least we're slowly learning what we have to work with. Which is usually more than half the battle. In the meantime, we'll shine up our armour and hone our swords while we wait for divine inspiration.
So we gave our hearts some time to recover; a break from the decisions and questions and uncertainty, and we left well enough alone last week. Almost like hitting the pause button while watching a jugglers performance: all the balls are still in mid-air; arms outstretched ready to catch and release the next one; all focus frozen in time. Plus the weather is nice for this time of year, so we've been enjoying Spring come early - given what we endured last year in the pretext of being Summer - we deserve this bit of paradise while it lasts.
In between the lawn raking and window washing, we grabbed a shovel and some steel pry-bars and removed a cast concrete drain diverter sidewalk pad at the front corner of the garage. It was no small feat - having sat in it's present location for almost 50 years, wedged in place between gradebeam and sidewalk, and those nasty shrub roots and shoots that refuse to die...
But we did manage to wiggle it free and out of the way so we could dig down in that area to see what treasure lay buried beneath. We weren't searching for gold - though that would have been a welcome bonus - instead we were after a precious cargo of a different sort; one that might only appeal to builders: evidence of a concrete pile.
No, we don't need to see a doctor.
The concrete pile in question would be a very welcome sight, in that it would allow us to continue our plans of garage conversion, provided it was of sufficient size to carry the additional loads required by the new framing. So I dug down and after a few false finds which consisted of bits of excess concrete from the original construction and the odd root, I finally struck construction gold, and located a solid, non-movable surface inside the dark clay and soil hole I'd created.
With a bit more excavation - mostly by hand - I had uncovered the top of a circular concrete pour, about 18" in diameter, as best I could measure since a good quarter of the pile is hidden beneath the garage grade beam concrete, with a bit of exposed re-bar tying the two together, and with a bit more fine-tuned digging, the outside edges were revealed as well.
So our garage was built as we had hoped, with proper foundational support. I sent off details of our findings to the engineer for his consideration, installed some wooden stakes around the hole, tied them with bright pink survey flagging tape to keep the neighbor's kids from falling in, and called it a day.
We still don't know in which direction our next steps will be with this project, but at least we're slowly learning what we have to work with. Which is usually more than half the battle. In the meantime, we'll shine up our armour and hone our swords while we wait for divine inspiration.
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