Tetra have picked up a new challenge, and I have three new volunteers to find projects for. The challenge is building a voice activated switch for a bed bound lady with MS. The switch has to connect to an emergency service via their equipment. One of my new volunteers is good with electronics, and I've handed the project to him.
Voice activation isn't new, but the challenge is filtering the background noise so that a cry for help doesn't get swamped by the TV. We've settled for a simple solution of a circuit with adjustable gain on the microphone that only reacts at an adjustable noise level. Then it trips the internal relay on the emergency equipment, and the cri de coeur alerts her emergency service provider. This lets her husband get out in the open air for a break for a while. I can only think what a terrible strain on their relationship it must be to have to stay within speaking distance 24/7. Cabin fever can't be in it.
On a lighter note, I seem to be fixing a lot of minor computer problems for friends and colleagues around the non profits locally. Funding is getting scarcer than ever, so they are glad of any help they can get. I'm also scrounging and cadging computer equipment for the local Personal Support Centre, which is due to open in Nanaimo 1st September 2009. Life is busy.
The Museum guys seem to trust me to get on with a job while I'm volunteering for them. Last week was making sure the ground anchors for some storage racking got fitted securely, this week was advising on video file formats and outfitting a video display case for a new part of the First Nations exhibition. It's only one day a week, but David the curator certainly gets a lot of bang for the bucks I don't get paid. I do it because the work is entertaining, varied, and I enjoy the little challenges. It's also a social networking thing, which will pay off when we finally get our permanent residency sorted out, and I then need local work references.
That's the thing about Nanaimo, it's a small city, and everything is personal. You are not a number in the machine here, you are very much a person in your own right, and valued as such. However, there is a flip side to this coin; behave badly, and word gets around faster than the speed of light. Reputation is everything.
Have recently found out about Canadian Vetinary costs. Amos, our fearless (not) hound, has recently been given his anti-rabies shots (3 years) and all his other boosters for the rest of the year, including one for Lyme disease. The bill came as a pleasant surprise. Being used to UK Vetinary fees, I was gritting my teeth and preparing to bite a very expensive bullet. Not only does my handsome mutt eat cheap, he doesn't cost much to keep healthy. This has caused me much relief. Even going to city hall to get a Dog Licence raised a mildly smug smirk. I found that in BC you only need a Dog licence if your local municipality issues one. We live 100 metres outside the city limits, and therefore save CDN$25 a year on him. Good dog.
On the personal front, I've still been feeling a little tense and restless lately. Angie isn't happy with me right this minute because I got a bit defensive when she asked me (For the third time in as many minutes) what I was going to be doing on a particular day, and who I was doing what for. The thing that irks me is that I try not to tell people what I'm about to do, because by the time I've finished telling them, I don't get time to do it. It was this nitpicking tiresome detail that drove me up the wall about UK bureaucracy. Questions like "What are you doing?" delivered in an officious tone, and then when you tell whoever is interrogating you, they want to know "Why?" and I was often sorely tempted to say sharply, "Because the little voices tell me to - now bugger off!" But I'm too polite to do so. That and being treated like a number that doesn't really matter. God, I hated that.
That is all moot. The UK is behind me now, and I will continue to build and work for our future, and the futures of Jo and Laura in this part of Canada. A place to live and work for Angie and I, and a place of refuge for the girls and any next generation they care to present us with.
I have to raise my eyes to the horizon, pick up my metaphorical feet, and carry on. Although I really could do with a break. Mother in law is due to visit for three months starting in May, and the prospect is far from thrilling. Hey ho. Onwards and upwards.
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Monday, February 16, 2009
Work permits, stress and other stuff
Immigration to Canada can be a nerve testing business, especially when you see the processing times. My work permit was submitted for renewal in plenty of time, but after a forty minute phone call the other day, I found that there is almost a ninety day lead time on renewals if done via the processing centre at Vegreville, Alberta. The upside is that I'm allowed to stay and work because while my application is in the stack waiting to be processed, I have what is called 'implied consent' to continue as normal.
Angie is delighted because she finally has bagged a proper job and praise the Lord is all smiles again. We went down to the border to get her work permit last week, and for a change everything went as smooth as silk. No hitches, comments, hangups or anything; apart from finding that we had three files open instead of one. However, this is due to our Permanent Residency still in the queue for processing with 18 months still to go before someone actually looks at our application. Everyone was terribly nice to us, even when we went to do what is called a 'Flagpole' which is leaving Canada for the USA, stopping at the border post and after a perfunctory check at US customs, heading back to Canadian customs for the documents Angie needed. "When are you coming for a proper visit?" Asked the US border guard with a quick grin. Canadian customs were likewise easy to deal with. We even managed to catch the 12:45 ferry back from Tsawwassen instead of having to wait until 3:15.
Another pleasant surprise greeted us the following day upon application for a temporary Social Insurance Card Number at Service Canada. "Use your old one." Angie was told. This was a bit of a surprise, as her old immigration documents, including SIN card, were siezed last January by a Border Guard at the Peace Arch crossing. I recall her annoyance at being told "These aren't valid, you shouldn't have them." The Service Canada tax people and even our local immigration officer now say, and not without a little embarrassment, that the guard in question shouldn't have taken Angie's old SIN card and certificate of landing, even if the 2006 immigration rule change rendered them currently unuseable. Said documentation, we have been assured, will be returned upon processing of our Permanent Residency application.
Despite the relative ease of the transition I'm mentally exhausted. I've been living off my nerves for the past four months and it shows. I feel run down and tired, stressed out and just generally out of sorts. Nothing specific, just an all round lassitude that saps my normal exuberance. I've not been on form at all. My usual "go git 'em floyd" attitude is conspicuous by it's absence. Mister Brain is not playing ball, either, and processing capacity is distinctly reduced. Mental tasks that once took milliseconds hiccup like a scratched CD. Trains of thought have shunted themselves into rusty sidings and are refusing to move without half a gallon of coffee and a Tim Hortons Blueberry fritter as fuel.
All of this comes from the last five months when Angie was offered a job, denied a work permit because her would-be employers weren't paying the proper rate for the job, and her endless worrying at the bone of employment has eroded my own resiliance. Now she's all bouncy and chipper, and I feel like death warmed over.
Concerns over money have also been at the forefront of our anxieties, what with the exchange rate doing a nosedive. Only having one shot of cash a month has been worrying, but now we've transferred last years interest on our capital over here, and Angie will be pulling in a modest wage, things will ease up. We've spent close on CDN$1000 on fixing the brake system on our old Ford Windstar van last weekend, and there are costs like the Dog's booster innoculations, wash and trim, and dog licence. Then our Ford Bronco II needs some attention to the parking brake and fuel filter, then I need to replace my old laptop, which has just died. We can afford all these things now, thank goodness.
Upon reflection I think I'd like a Mac, as the retailers still trying to offload machines loaded with the Microsoft Vista operating system, which no-one I know likes at all. The various shops will 'roll back' the machines O/S to XP, but I'd rather have 2000, which is just as stable as XP, and rarely gave me any issues.
Am stopping volunteering for the Canadian Red Cross. Not really for any one reason, but just because I'm not getting anything out of it any more. There was also the issue that I felt excluded over the 150th Birthday celebrations in Victoria on 31st January. Everyone at the Nanaimo office was offered an invitation, even those who didn't want one, but me. I replied to the round robin e-mail, said "Ooh yes please." When asked verbally, yet never got onto the guest list. I'm vaguely annoyed about the whole business.
Have put my name down as a volunteer for the Nanaimo Global Film Festival in March, and will continue my work with artefacts and display building at the Nanaimo Museum. That and attending every meeting under the sun to promote Tetra. I'm confident this strategy will pay off in the long run. By the time I'm done, Tetra will have an office and workshop, so that people who need one-off aids for the disabled can drop in and at least talk to a human being.
The Museum volunteering is useful because we get invited to various functions and it helps us meet people like the Mayor, local MP, and various other dignitaries who can help our cause. It's a slow business, but quite interesting, and in the interim I get to work on old technology circa 1900 like Movie Projectors, Magic Lanterns and gramophones.
I'm currently spending a little time every week restoring an 1890's Magic lantern, the trademark of which is proving somewhat obscure. From what I can make out, it's a common tinplate model which were purchased in bulk by the Provincial Educational boards. The firebox is missing, as is the mahogany slide assembly, but I can fake those and as the lenses are in good condition, another few sessions and I'll have it working properly.
In the meantime I'm still writing and punting stuff out to publishers and agents. Maybe one of them will actually read my work, and like it enough to take a chance on a relative unknown like me. It's like promoting a charity, all it takes is time and persistance.
Angie is delighted because she finally has bagged a proper job and praise the Lord is all smiles again. We went down to the border to get her work permit last week, and for a change everything went as smooth as silk. No hitches, comments, hangups or anything; apart from finding that we had three files open instead of one. However, this is due to our Permanent Residency still in the queue for processing with 18 months still to go before someone actually looks at our application. Everyone was terribly nice to us, even when we went to do what is called a 'Flagpole' which is leaving Canada for the USA, stopping at the border post and after a perfunctory check at US customs, heading back to Canadian customs for the documents Angie needed. "When are you coming for a proper visit?" Asked the US border guard with a quick grin. Canadian customs were likewise easy to deal with. We even managed to catch the 12:45 ferry back from Tsawwassen instead of having to wait until 3:15.
Another pleasant surprise greeted us the following day upon application for a temporary Social Insurance Card Number at Service Canada. "Use your old one." Angie was told. This was a bit of a surprise, as her old immigration documents, including SIN card, were siezed last January by a Border Guard at the Peace Arch crossing. I recall her annoyance at being told "These aren't valid, you shouldn't have them." The Service Canada tax people and even our local immigration officer now say, and not without a little embarrassment, that the guard in question shouldn't have taken Angie's old SIN card and certificate of landing, even if the 2006 immigration rule change rendered them currently unuseable. Said documentation, we have been assured, will be returned upon processing of our Permanent Residency application.
Despite the relative ease of the transition I'm mentally exhausted. I've been living off my nerves for the past four months and it shows. I feel run down and tired, stressed out and just generally out of sorts. Nothing specific, just an all round lassitude that saps my normal exuberance. I've not been on form at all. My usual "go git 'em floyd" attitude is conspicuous by it's absence. Mister Brain is not playing ball, either, and processing capacity is distinctly reduced. Mental tasks that once took milliseconds hiccup like a scratched CD. Trains of thought have shunted themselves into rusty sidings and are refusing to move without half a gallon of coffee and a Tim Hortons Blueberry fritter as fuel.
All of this comes from the last five months when Angie was offered a job, denied a work permit because her would-be employers weren't paying the proper rate for the job, and her endless worrying at the bone of employment has eroded my own resiliance. Now she's all bouncy and chipper, and I feel like death warmed over.
Concerns over money have also been at the forefront of our anxieties, what with the exchange rate doing a nosedive. Only having one shot of cash a month has been worrying, but now we've transferred last years interest on our capital over here, and Angie will be pulling in a modest wage, things will ease up. We've spent close on CDN$1000 on fixing the brake system on our old Ford Windstar van last weekend, and there are costs like the Dog's booster innoculations, wash and trim, and dog licence. Then our Ford Bronco II needs some attention to the parking brake and fuel filter, then I need to replace my old laptop, which has just died. We can afford all these things now, thank goodness.
Upon reflection I think I'd like a Mac, as the retailers still trying to offload machines loaded with the Microsoft Vista operating system, which no-one I know likes at all. The various shops will 'roll back' the machines O/S to XP, but I'd rather have 2000, which is just as stable as XP, and rarely gave me any issues.
Am stopping volunteering for the Canadian Red Cross. Not really for any one reason, but just because I'm not getting anything out of it any more. There was also the issue that I felt excluded over the 150th Birthday celebrations in Victoria on 31st January. Everyone at the Nanaimo office was offered an invitation, even those who didn't want one, but me. I replied to the round robin e-mail, said "Ooh yes please." When asked verbally, yet never got onto the guest list. I'm vaguely annoyed about the whole business.
Have put my name down as a volunteer for the Nanaimo Global Film Festival in March, and will continue my work with artefacts and display building at the Nanaimo Museum. That and attending every meeting under the sun to promote Tetra. I'm confident this strategy will pay off in the long run. By the time I'm done, Tetra will have an office and workshop, so that people who need one-off aids for the disabled can drop in and at least talk to a human being.
The Museum volunteering is useful because we get invited to various functions and it helps us meet people like the Mayor, local MP, and various other dignitaries who can help our cause. It's a slow business, but quite interesting, and in the interim I get to work on old technology circa 1900 like Movie Projectors, Magic Lanterns and gramophones.
I'm currently spending a little time every week restoring an 1890's Magic lantern, the trademark of which is proving somewhat obscure. From what I can make out, it's a common tinplate model which were purchased in bulk by the Provincial Educational boards. The firebox is missing, as is the mahogany slide assembly, but I can fake those and as the lenses are in good condition, another few sessions and I'll have it working properly.
In the meantime I'm still writing and punting stuff out to publishers and agents. Maybe one of them will actually read my work, and like it enough to take a chance on a relative unknown like me. It's like promoting a charity, all it takes is time and persistance.
Monday, December 29, 2008
I need....
Have been debating the wisdom of posting unpublished (Unpublishable?) work on the sister blog to this one. I have a serious catalogue of work; two completed novels of over 100,000 words, innumerable short stories and several screenplays but the problem as always is getting it read. All my submissions seem to be languishing in various publishers 'slush piles'. No one critiques work unless you pay them, and you can't trust relatives / friends to read your output because they will always try not to hurt your feelings.
What with all the lack of response it's pretty hard not to want to pack it all in. Perhaps there's a service for those wanting to rid themselves of the writing compulsion. Get this damnable aspirational monkey off my back. On second thoughts, no. Without that derangement I wouldn't be me, and that's not going to happen without double electroshock and a prefrontal lobotomy.
There's only one thing for it; a letter writing campaign. I'll start with this one;
It's worth a try.
What with all the lack of response it's pretty hard not to want to pack it all in. Perhaps there's a service for those wanting to rid themselves of the writing compulsion. Get this damnable aspirational monkey off my back. On second thoughts, no. Without that derangement I wouldn't be me, and that's not going to happen without double electroshock and a prefrontal lobotomy.
There's only one thing for it; a letter writing campaign. I'll start with this one;
Dear Santa,
For my extra special Christmas present I would like to engage the services of a really first class agent. Please. I've been ever so good.
It's worth a try.
Monday, October 06, 2008
Autumn
Fall has begun, the Maple and Birch are turning, and the time has come around to restart hawking my 130,000 word manuscript around the publishers. Not a prospect I care to face, but an unsold manuscript is just so much wasted time. So sell I must.
While the long wait for publisher replies continues, the realities of life intrude, and a day job must be found. To this end I have enlisted on a month long programme which I hope will help me land a full time job in this new land. Have spent the past week simply on establishing what kind of career I am truly suited for. Four separate personality assessments have been completed; Myers-Briggs and three others. The supreme irony is that they all said more or less the same thing, I'm a Computer Technician who has an aptitude for Technical Writing. Which is more or less how I used to make gainful employment in the UK before the ageism kicked in and younger and much cheaper people got hired way ahead of me. Ended up scraping the bottom of the barrel fixing Printers and working cheap. Financially, it was getting pretty desperate. I can only shudder when I think of those times.
Now after a massive leap of faith, both Angie and I are enjoying life here in Canada. We have made our mark locally and hope to continue to do so.
The new Museum is up and running, and as soon as David the Curator comes back from a three week lecture tour in Alaska of all places, I'm sure we'll be getting phone calls to help out with further reconditioning and cataloguing artefacts. Angie has acted as an informal educational consultant for the new schoolroom exhibit, and I think my next project will be on the Coal mine or First Nations displays.
The Diver hanging up in the rafters is my latest contribution, and seems to work quite well, although if I'm asked to do another 300 shelf liners I might be tempted to demur.
Pleased to say I have just bagged a new project for the Tetra Society to adapt a controller for a clients mechanised bed, and am told by my Red Cross friends that they want to hire me, although I have to wait for another five days for the vacancy to be pushed my way. Apparently my application has needed to be okayed at National level because I only have a temporary and limited Work Permit at present, such are the complications that immigration throws into your lap. Am thoroughly delighted that Angie has been hired as a Teacher on Call for a local Private School. When all the work permit hoops are finally jumped through we can both take on things that previously were forbidden to us. I will be legally able to take on all the occasional paid jobs that keep getting nudged my way, and Angie can do some freelance home schooling work which one lady has been determinedly chasing her to do.
Summer has been pretty busy. My Mother came over for two weeks and we took her to see where my cousin lives on Saltsping Island, introduced her to some of Angie's old family friends over here and showed her around Victoria. Got a letter a week after she had returned to England to the effect that had she known about Canada forty plus years ago, I would already be a Canadian Citizen. I'm just pleased that she approves of our move. God bless you Mum. Two weeks after Mum's visit Angie went back to the UK to see Jo and Laura established in University, returning via Air Canada and Harbour Air in the Rain. Verdict; England is an interesting place to visit, but you wouldn't like to live there. She was glad to get back to British Columbia.
Went fly fishing with one of my visiting Brothers in Law and caught not a sausage, nor a fish for that matter. Saw hundreds of the things, but they just weren't biting for some reason. By Ian's intent expression you can see the frustration with which he was viewing the situation. Poor guy, he was so determined, but after we'd both lost a couple of lures each, at five we reluctantly called it a day. I'm more of a sea fisherman myself, and like a boat kicking under my feet and the taste of salt spray on my lips.
Amos, my dog, had found what the Bears do in the woods and much to my disgust rolled in it like it was body lotion. I scolded him thoroughly and towelled him down as best I could before consigning my disgraced mutt to the back of the Van with all the windows open. Angie has mooted getting another dog, possibly a Beagle in a couple of years, so Amos can have regular company while we are increasingly not at home.
Regarding communication with our hyperextended family, what with one time zone and another, we have nothing but good to say about Skype. This morning we were talking to Jo on a Skype call and it's a wonderful thing for setting your mind at rest. You get to see the body language, and the microphone picked up Jo's conversation with friends in the corridor when they dropped by. I have a feeling she's enjoying Manchester University a lot, especially if the kissing noises I heard were anything to go by when a dashing young male caller knocked on her door while we were talking. In the short time she's been there, she's fallen in with a terrific crowd by the sound of things, and I'm truly pleased for her. Voice over IP connections allow this kind of detail, and to do it for free, well, a big virtual clap on the shoulders for all the guys who make it possible. Thank you.
While the long wait for publisher replies continues, the realities of life intrude, and a day job must be found. To this end I have enlisted on a month long programme which I hope will help me land a full time job in this new land. Have spent the past week simply on establishing what kind of career I am truly suited for. Four separate personality assessments have been completed; Myers-Briggs and three others. The supreme irony is that they all said more or less the same thing, I'm a Computer Technician who has an aptitude for Technical Writing. Which is more or less how I used to make gainful employment in the UK before the ageism kicked in and younger and much cheaper people got hired way ahead of me. Ended up scraping the bottom of the barrel fixing Printers and working cheap. Financially, it was getting pretty desperate. I can only shudder when I think of those times.
Now after a massive leap of faith, both Angie and I are enjoying life here in Canada. We have made our mark locally and hope to continue to do so.
The new Museum is up and running, and as soon as David the Curator comes back from a three week lecture tour in Alaska of all places, I'm sure we'll be getting phone calls to help out with further reconditioning and cataloguing artefacts. Angie has acted as an informal educational consultant for the new schoolroom exhibit, and I think my next project will be on the Coal mine or First Nations displays.
The Diver hanging up in the rafters is my latest contribution, and seems to work quite well, although if I'm asked to do another 300 shelf liners I might be tempted to demur.
Pleased to say I have just bagged a new project for the Tetra Society to adapt a controller for a clients mechanised bed, and am told by my Red Cross friends that they want to hire me, although I have to wait for another five days for the vacancy to be pushed my way. Apparently my application has needed to be okayed at National level because I only have a temporary and limited Work Permit at present, such are the complications that immigration throws into your lap. Am thoroughly delighted that Angie has been hired as a Teacher on Call for a local Private School. When all the work permit hoops are finally jumped through we can both take on things that previously were forbidden to us. I will be legally able to take on all the occasional paid jobs that keep getting nudged my way, and Angie can do some freelance home schooling work which one lady has been determinedly chasing her to do.
Summer has been pretty busy. My Mother came over for two weeks and we took her to see where my cousin lives on Saltsping Island, introduced her to some of Angie's old family friends over here and showed her around Victoria. Got a letter a week after she had returned to England to the effect that had she known about Canada forty plus years ago, I would already be a Canadian Citizen. I'm just pleased that she approves of our move. God bless you Mum. Two weeks after Mum's visit Angie went back to the UK to see Jo and Laura established in University, returning via Air Canada and Harbour Air in the Rain. Verdict; England is an interesting place to visit, but you wouldn't like to live there. She was glad to get back to British Columbia.
Went fly fishing with one of my visiting Brothers in Law and caught not a sausage, nor a fish for that matter. Saw hundreds of the things, but they just weren't biting for some reason. By Ian's intent expression you can see the frustration with which he was viewing the situation. Poor guy, he was so determined, but after we'd both lost a couple of lures each, at five we reluctantly called it a day. I'm more of a sea fisherman myself, and like a boat kicking under my feet and the taste of salt spray on my lips.
Amos, my dog, had found what the Bears do in the woods and much to my disgust rolled in it like it was body lotion. I scolded him thoroughly and towelled him down as best I could before consigning my disgraced mutt to the back of the Van with all the windows open. Angie has mooted getting another dog, possibly a Beagle in a couple of years, so Amos can have regular company while we are increasingly not at home.
Regarding communication with our hyperextended family, what with one time zone and another, we have nothing but good to say about Skype. This morning we were talking to Jo on a Skype call and it's a wonderful thing for setting your mind at rest. You get to see the body language, and the microphone picked up Jo's conversation with friends in the corridor when they dropped by. I have a feeling she's enjoying Manchester University a lot, especially if the kissing noises I heard were anything to go by when a dashing young male caller knocked on her door while we were talking. In the short time she's been there, she's fallen in with a terrific crowd by the sound of things, and I'm truly pleased for her. Voice over IP connections allow this kind of detail, and to do it for free, well, a big virtual clap on the shoulders for all the guys who make it possible. Thank you.
Sunday, July 27, 2008
Ouch
Have elected to stop volunteer work for the next three or four weeks. I worked hard yesterday, fixing up a 70 pound diving display dummy for Nanaimo museum yesterday before my old knee injury tripped out. Served me right for electing to carry the thing down a gravel slope hundred and fifty metres from the old premises to the new place. My knee can go months, years, without playing up, then a mis-step or a slip takes me all the way back to square one. All this despite two bouts of surgery on the offending limb. Rather like snakes and ladders.
While I was sitting in the staff room, trying to coax the offending bits back into place, which is a particularly painful process, one of the staff came in and made a sarky comment at me like I was malingering. The phrase used was; "Well, I'll leave you to your suffering." What was specifically offensive about it was the tone in which this was delivered. In candour, there is a distinct impression that the person in question has 'issues' with my presence as a volunteer at the Museum.
This being the case, I think a short leave of absence is called for. There is the MSS to sell, Tetra work to do, and a family event to deal with. Ars longa, vita brevis being the case. That and my knee needs rest to heal properly.
While I was sitting in the staff room, trying to coax the offending bits back into place, which is a particularly painful process, one of the staff came in and made a sarky comment at me like I was malingering. The phrase used was; "Well, I'll leave you to your suffering." What was specifically offensive about it was the tone in which this was delivered. In candour, there is a distinct impression that the person in question has 'issues' with my presence as a volunteer at the Museum.
This being the case, I think a short leave of absence is called for. There is the MSS to sell, Tetra work to do, and a family event to deal with. Ars longa, vita brevis being the case. That and my knee needs rest to heal properly.
Thursday, July 24, 2008
Name check
Well, another little bit of local recognition. Tonight is the gala opening of the brand spanking new Nanaimo Museum.A lot of hard work has gone into getting everything where it is, and tonight the local dignitaries come round to make speeches and have a look at the result of all the sheer graft put in by the volunteers and staff. Angie and I have been pitching in where we can, and I am mightily pleased to see several of the items I've helped restore on display. Am also dead chuffed to see both our names up on the dedication board just inside the museum door, as well as the Powers Cameragraph I worked on in its brand new home.
It's not quite the same buzz as seeing your hard wrought phrases in print and on sale in a bookshop, but it's getting there.
Tonight I shall be donning my best and only Marks and Spencers travel suit, best shirt and shades. I shall sip a spritzer or Ginger ale in a champagne glass because I'm driving, and maybe do a bit of hob-nobbing, or its Canadian equivalent.
Now all I have to do is translate this into a bit of publicity for the Tetra Society. Get my guys some new projects for Fall, raise some public awareness and money for my pet cause.
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Social networking+
Got an e-mail from someone about their brand new, whizzy social networking web site, and would I like to sign up? As it was free, and to stop them pestering me, I signed up for a free account. Not that I'm interested in Facebook et al. I do all my networking face to face.
Why? Because on social networking sites, no-one can taste the beer.
Why? Because on social networking sites, no-one can taste the beer.
Thursday, July 17, 2008
What I do when not writing
Well, there's the day job, and then there's restoring stuff like this for the new Nanaimo Museum. The top picture is of a 1909 hand cranked and much modified Powers Cameragraph No 5. The filaments in the hand blown Edison manufactured lamp look sound, and the lenses are in the main intact. Having spent some fourteen or so hours on this machine, I think with the addition of some electric cable and replacement reel mechanism, it would function perfectly.
As for the Columbia wind up gramophone. After a little spit and polish it worked perfectly, and in the photo is playing an old 78 record of 'It's a long way to Tipparary'
I love old technology like this when it works first time round. What else is good? Oh yes, Angie passed her BC driving test first time. The sun is shining. Wonderful.
As for the Columbia wind up gramophone. After a little spit and polish it worked perfectly, and in the photo is playing an old 78 record of 'It's a long way to Tipparary'
I love old technology like this when it works first time round. What else is good? Oh yes, Angie passed her BC driving test first time. The sun is shining. Wonderful.
Thursday, July 10, 2008
Big month
What with one thing and another, early July 2008 has been quite intense. The best news of all is that I passed my British Columbia class five driving test first time. Written exam was Tuesday, the actual driving test this morning.
The test centre is a far cry from the miserable, dour experience of an English Driving test as I recall them. The staff smile. They chat, they banter, they celebrate your good news and commiserate with your bad.
I can understand the principle, Canadians like to be happy while they work because there's no percentage in being a sourpuss. Their business is to check your competence as a driver, not put you in a pressure cooker and send you through the whole bloody business several times because your nerves got in the way of your driving. They go out of their way to ensure you are relaxed and paying attention to the job in hand, which is driving a vehicle on the road. A big thank you to Elizabeth one of the counter clerks, Ken the examiner, and the irrepressible and very much larger than life Kat at the Nanaimo Drivers center.
In addition, the Tetra Society of North America, the disabled charity for whom I am Nanaimo's area co-ordinator undertook and completed their first project recently to help a little girl with a long term degenerative disease of her nervous system. All we did was fit some additional bannisters in her home so she could get up and downstairs more easily, but that's the way things work here. People give of themselves because they want to. I just wish we could find a few more projects for the local volunteers. There's a lot of legwork involved, and being new to Vancouver Island just drives home how personal everything is. Stuff is arranged through contacts, and to be honest, I'm struggling a little at present. However, nil desperandum and I'm putting my other talents to good use for the local Red Cross and the shortly to re-open Nanaimo museum.
The Local branch of the Canadian Red Cross has moved, and all the volunteers put their shoulders to the wheel. I helped out with a bit of computer wiring and some of the decoration, and everyone else has just pitched in and worked wonders.
As for the museum, Dave the curator handed me an ancient piece of movie technology and asked me what I could do with it. The Powers Cameragraph Model 5 was in pretty fair condition for a hundred year old hand cranked projector, so I've cleaned it up as best I can and it goes on display shortly, sponsored by the Shaw, the local cable company. Dave has intimated that he has another piece of kit he wants me to perform the 'laying on of hands', (A very useful talent for the IT support engineer as I once was) on an ancient phonograph.
I really feel like we're beginning to belong here.
Update: I got an award from my friends at the Red Cross last night! Totally bowled over, chuffed to bits and generally speaking quite pleased with myself.
The test centre is a far cry from the miserable, dour experience of an English Driving test as I recall them. The staff smile. They chat, they banter, they celebrate your good news and commiserate with your bad.
I can understand the principle, Canadians like to be happy while they work because there's no percentage in being a sourpuss. Their business is to check your competence as a driver, not put you in a pressure cooker and send you through the whole bloody business several times because your nerves got in the way of your driving. They go out of their way to ensure you are relaxed and paying attention to the job in hand, which is driving a vehicle on the road. A big thank you to Elizabeth one of the counter clerks, Ken the examiner, and the irrepressible and very much larger than life Kat at the Nanaimo Drivers center.
In addition, the Tetra Society of North America, the disabled charity for whom I am Nanaimo's area co-ordinator undertook and completed their first project recently to help a little girl with a long term degenerative disease of her nervous system. All we did was fit some additional bannisters in her home so she could get up and downstairs more easily, but that's the way things work here. People give of themselves because they want to. I just wish we could find a few more projects for the local volunteers. There's a lot of legwork involved, and being new to Vancouver Island just drives home how personal everything is. Stuff is arranged through contacts, and to be honest, I'm struggling a little at present. However, nil desperandum and I'm putting my other talents to good use for the local Red Cross and the shortly to re-open Nanaimo museum.
The Local branch of the Canadian Red Cross has moved, and all the volunteers put their shoulders to the wheel. I helped out with a bit of computer wiring and some of the decoration, and everyone else has just pitched in and worked wonders.
As for the museum, Dave the curator handed me an ancient piece of movie technology and asked me what I could do with it. The Powers Cameragraph Model 5 was in pretty fair condition for a hundred year old hand cranked projector, so I've cleaned it up as best I can and it goes on display shortly, sponsored by the Shaw, the local cable company. Dave has intimated that he has another piece of kit he wants me to perform the 'laying on of hands', (A very useful talent for the IT support engineer as I once was) on an ancient phonograph.
I really feel like we're beginning to belong here.
Update: I got an award from my friends at the Red Cross last night! Totally bowled over, chuffed to bits and generally speaking quite pleased with myself.
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
Head down
I started a MSS in January. Nothing special. Genre fiction. Today I will complete it. Good, believable characters, and the story sprints along nicely from premise to conclusion, all one hundred and twenty thousand words of it with a cracking denoument. That's pretty good as output goes. Five months from a few hundred words and the roughest of outlines to quite a reasonable piece of work. There's even thoughts of a sequel, although I need to revise what I'm doing with the other two major projects first.
It's the longest piece of work I've ever written, and despite some minor niggles, I'm pretty pleased with the first draft. Now all I have to do is sell it. I'll try New York first of all, then take a punt at some of the Toronto publishing houses.
Rejection slips will come thick and fast in the next few months I'm sure, but in this business, the 'Noes' are the price of the 'Yesses', and getting a business to take a long shot with a relative unknown such as me, with only a handful of stories and articles published under my own name is not going to be a simple proposition. I know no-one in publishing. I never managed to go to University, so never made any contacts who might give me a recommendation. All I have is a large pile of unpublished stuff gradually rotting down to compost, or being chewed into nest material for the mice at my Mother's old house back in England.
There is always the self publication route, but then again, you don't get the marketing assistance that way.
It's the longest piece of work I've ever written, and despite some minor niggles, I'm pretty pleased with the first draft. Now all I have to do is sell it. I'll try New York first of all, then take a punt at some of the Toronto publishing houses.
Rejection slips will come thick and fast in the next few months I'm sure, but in this business, the 'Noes' are the price of the 'Yesses', and getting a business to take a long shot with a relative unknown such as me, with only a handful of stories and articles published under my own name is not going to be a simple proposition. I know no-one in publishing. I never managed to go to University, so never made any contacts who might give me a recommendation. All I have is a large pile of unpublished stuff gradually rotting down to compost, or being chewed into nest material for the mice at my Mother's old house back in England.
There is always the self publication route, but then again, you don't get the marketing assistance that way.
Saturday, February 09, 2008
Busy
Kind of lost track on this blog. I'd almost forgotten about it because there was so little time to post, and not much to post about. I've had a little run in with Canadian immigration when I went to apply for a work permit and 'leave to remain'. The guys at the border didn't like the look of the job I've been given, and told me to go away and try again. We went back to get some guidance from our local immigration office in Nanaimo, who have may I say, been absolute diamond, and they are advising us.
I'm taking on a job with a charity called the Tetra Society of North America. The guys at the Red Cross told me about the advert; I applied, and wonder of wonders, was offered the job. The only hang up is that I need a work permit, as this is paid employment. Thereby hangs the tale.
At the moment of writing, I need to persuade my perspective employers to redraft a copy of my offer of employment (Which I drafted for them), fax a copy to the immigration office for formal approval, get my employers to send me a signed and dated copy of the letter which I then take to the border. However, I have been told to let the immigration office people know the time and date of my application so they can phone the guys at the border post and ensure everything gets done properly. If this sounds a bit of a headache it has been.
Never mind. Money is not a problem for the forseeable future. We sold our house and are living frugally but well. Had a terrific Christmas with the kids coming over, although it was a bit crowded for a while. Have started a blog of unpublished short stories, just to see if anyone likes them. Lets face it, my hard drive is crammed with the outpourings of my fevered imagination, and I just want to see what anyone else thinks.
I'm taking on a job with a charity called the Tetra Society of North America. The guys at the Red Cross told me about the advert; I applied, and wonder of wonders, was offered the job. The only hang up is that I need a work permit, as this is paid employment. Thereby hangs the tale.
At the moment of writing, I need to persuade my perspective employers to redraft a copy of my offer of employment (Which I drafted for them), fax a copy to the immigration office for formal approval, get my employers to send me a signed and dated copy of the letter which I then take to the border. However, I have been told to let the immigration office people know the time and date of my application so they can phone the guys at the border post and ensure everything gets done properly. If this sounds a bit of a headache it has been.
Never mind. Money is not a problem for the forseeable future. We sold our house and are living frugally but well. Had a terrific Christmas with the kids coming over, although it was a bit crowded for a while. Have started a blog of unpublished short stories, just to see if anyone likes them. Lets face it, my hard drive is crammed with the outpourings of my fevered imagination, and I just want to see what anyone else thinks.
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
Volunteering
Since I left the UK, just to help me get settled over here in BC. I volunteered to help out once a week at the Canadian Red Cross. It’s quite common over here to do voluntary work, and in many circles it’s rather expected of you at some stage. Angie helps children who are having trouble learning to read, write and do sums, and I help fix aids for the disabled and similar. If asked why I do it I can say this; it lightens my soul. Better than any religion, better than any drug (Legal or not), volunteering with an open heart gives you a sense of, well I suppose you’d call it fulfilment, satisfaction. That and I work with a happy crew. A good mob, you might say.
Last week we were out on a ‘run’ delivering and fitting stuff, but I arrived early and found myself regaling the office with a few ‘war stories’ from when I worked in a UK hospital. Strange now that the memories of that time no longer bother me as they once did. The heartbreak and frustration of losing a patient, getting told off repeatedly for honestly answering patients questions, dealing with (Often violent) drunks in casualty, calming them with a soft word or two (Much to the surprise of the coppers who brought them in). Amusing anecdotes from operating theatre. Getting told repeatedly that I was ‘gay’ (Strangely enough I’m not, never was – didn’t know I had to be).
As I was telling my tales, I had a minor internal revelation. I began to realise that the memory of all the bad things that happened no longer hurt after all these years. The voluntary work I’ve been doing has given me a sound perspective to look back on why the hospital job was a bad career move, but a useful source of knowledge (and amusing anecdotes).
Voluntary work teaches you things about yourself; what you feel comfortable with, what you like and dislike. It’s a great confidence builder. Gives you a bit more character. What a pity that ‘elf & safety’ culture in the UK is killing some sectors. Although in the UK ‘government statistics’ will disagree with this view, and we all know how reliable those are.
Over here in Canada, at least where I live, voluntary work is part of the culture. You help out because you feel more confident that in your time of need someone will come to your assistance. It’s very comforting. I like it. Can I stay please?
Last week we were out on a ‘run’ delivering and fitting stuff, but I arrived early and found myself regaling the office with a few ‘war stories’ from when I worked in a UK hospital. Strange now that the memories of that time no longer bother me as they once did. The heartbreak and frustration of losing a patient, getting told off repeatedly for honestly answering patients questions, dealing with (Often violent) drunks in casualty, calming them with a soft word or two (Much to the surprise of the coppers who brought them in). Amusing anecdotes from operating theatre. Getting told repeatedly that I was ‘gay’ (Strangely enough I’m not, never was – didn’t know I had to be).
As I was telling my tales, I had a minor internal revelation. I began to realise that the memory of all the bad things that happened no longer hurt after all these years. The voluntary work I’ve been doing has given me a sound perspective to look back on why the hospital job was a bad career move, but a useful source of knowledge (and amusing anecdotes).
Voluntary work teaches you things about yourself; what you feel comfortable with, what you like and dislike. It’s a great confidence builder. Gives you a bit more character. What a pity that ‘elf & safety’ culture in the UK is killing some sectors. Although in the UK ‘government statistics’ will disagree with this view, and we all know how reliable those are.
Over here in Canada, at least where I live, voluntary work is part of the culture. You help out because you feel more confident that in your time of need someone will come to your assistance. It’s very comforting. I like it. Can I stay please?
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
Hunkering down
So my last post was August 5th? Wow. A lot has happened since then. I've driven coast to coast with Angie and the dog, sleeping in a slightly superannuated Minivan most of the trip, getting eaten alive by the local insect population, and generally testing my marriage to near destruction in the process.
The good news is that Angie and I have now found a place, hopefully sold our old house in England, put ourselves on the immigration merry go round which is more like a rotating door than anything else. One wrong move spits you back out onto the street. Never mind, the novel proceeds well if slowly, but I'm going to have to go back to my old IT career if anyone will have me, as we're trying to regulate the hemorrhaging of our available capital.
When the house is finally disposed of we can pay off the mortgage, which will leave us with a moderate sum to build a new home with; once we have sorted out all the immigration issues that is. For the moment we're hunkering down and conserving our resources. We have rented a small place on Vancouver Island near a village called Cedar, which is nice and with terrific views. Every mornings sunrise is a treat.
All we have to do is navigate the employment maze and perhaps we can stay a little longer.
The good news is that Angie and I have now found a place, hopefully sold our old house in England, put ourselves on the immigration merry go round which is more like a rotating door than anything else. One wrong move spits you back out onto the street. Never mind, the novel proceeds well if slowly, but I'm going to have to go back to my old IT career if anyone will have me, as we're trying to regulate the hemorrhaging of our available capital.
When the house is finally disposed of we can pay off the mortgage, which will leave us with a moderate sum to build a new home with; once we have sorted out all the immigration issues that is. For the moment we're hunkering down and conserving our resources. We have rented a small place on Vancouver Island near a village called Cedar, which is nice and with terrific views. Every mornings sunrise is a treat.
All we have to do is navigate the employment maze and perhaps we can stay a little longer.
Sunday, August 05, 2007
Eight hours from home
England is five days in my past and I’m still acclimatising to the time difference. The received wisdom is that for every time zone you cross, it takes a day for your circadian rhythms to orientate to local time. That makes three more days before I’m properly in synch with British Columbian time.
The remnant of Jet lag is making me edgy and more irritable than normal. I’ve become susceptible to heat rashes and other irritants that rather take the edge off the trip for me. In addition we don’t seem to be doing any of the fun stuff that we promised ourselves; canoeing, fishing etcetera. Apart from the change of scenery and the improved weather, we might as well have stayed on the other side of the bloody Atlantic. I still feel hemmed in. The adventure just isn’t there.
Yet.
The remnant of Jet lag is making me edgy and more irritable than normal. I’ve become susceptible to heat rashes and other irritants that rather take the edge off the trip for me. In addition we don’t seem to be doing any of the fun stuff that we promised ourselves; canoeing, fishing etcetera. Apart from the change of scenery and the improved weather, we might as well have stayed on the other side of the bloody Atlantic. I still feel hemmed in. The adventure just isn’t there.
Yet.
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