Grandpa update

I had a chat with my mom last night to see how she was holding up (she’s a mess).  Apparently Grandpa Aubrey is not doing well at all.  His brain is very weak, and he has meningitis.  They think it got in through the drain.  He is on enough drugs to cut steel, so says my mom.  I’m not sure what to do or say with any of this.  There is a real chance that he won’t pull through.  There is a real chance he will pull through.  They’re making something of a decision on Wednesday.

I slept poorly last night because I couldn’t stop thinking about this, and I couldn’t stop thinking about all the work I have to do and how it never seems to end.  I’m really really really scared that I’m losing my Grandfather.  It’s an awful feeling and I’m not sure how I’m taking it.  My mind is all in a knot at the moment and I’m hoping things stay knotted up until Wednesday at some point.  I have to get this paper in and I can’t have this awful thing bearing down on me making me distracted.

Here’s hoping things look up in the next few days so I can get through them.

I really think this is the worst year to be at school for me. All these awful things keep happening.  I’m just very lucky to have Grant with me.  He’s the one of the good things that has happened this year.  And he gives wonderful hugs.   It’s been a gruelling training process, but the hugs are now superb

Quick note

I have recently found out that my grandfather was doing better, and had even improved immensely when POW, he suddenly couldn’t talk any more.  They figured out it was a Urinary Tract Infection and now he seems to have meningitis (not sure which strain).  *eep*  This just sucks.

The good news is that my mom will be home by Wednesday.  My dad has been alone since April 1st (her flight left in the early morning) with the cat.  I hope the two of them have bonded.  He’s been enjoying his rowing and coaching.  He even made a comment in the BRC newsletter comparing learning to row to Dungeons and Dragons.  All about ogres and demons and nasty things you come across.  My dad. . . he never ceases to amaze me.

Now back to homework and such.  I have to get a lot done by next Friday.   Grant and I are going up to Edinburgh where we have planned out our two big things.  One costs money (the castle) the other does not (Arthur’s Seat).  There is always the whole food and exploring bit as well.  I hope we have a great time.

More on dad and spring

Spring isn’t just about rowing, it’s also about worms!!

The other day I was having a leisurely stroll with Grant and we had our lunch in the grass near the town wall.  As we sat down I commented we should look out for the worm poop.  I think he thought I was nuts.  But sure enough, there was a little pile of it right next to me.  I found a picture of it here.

I sent a note to my dad that the worm poop has shown up in Newcastle.  As a small child I used to play in the garden with him and I LOVED the worms and finding the worm poo.  His comment to my email about Grant not sure what worm poo was is:

that is just too funny for words! You knew that by the age of 2 or 3! And you were even a worm ‘cuddler’ by then.

To some people, what we call soil is plain old dirt – aeration, nutrient, porosity, all that exotic stuff, they are not aware of. If they try gardening for a while, or want a clay soil in their yard to drain, plant Queeen of Night bulbs, grow those yummy carrrots, etc

It is sort of like the lack of knowledge people show about flicking your headlight when a truck wants to pull in front of you after passing and then they “blink’ their running lights at you.

It’s true, I was.  Not sure that I ever “cuddled” them, but I definitely liked to save them from puddles and put them back in the dirt.  Silly worms thinking they could swim.  Sheesh.

And yes, my dad makes me laugh.

Life as a coach

My dad is having issues with his coaching jobs. He coaches for NDP (Notre Dame Preparatory) and BRC (Baltimore Rowing Club).  For both groups he coaches the freshmen or novices respectively.  This has been a great thing for him over the past few years and I think he really enjoys it.  Very little manages to piss him off, but like most of my Scandi-wegian relations, he’s a bit hard headed.  He has some very strong and one sided ideas of how his coaching should be done.  He makes up the drills, workouts etc and he doesn’t want anyone to mess with them, or say they are bad ideas.  He also does not coach “racing” mentalities. His big goal in life appears to be to form a boat/s that row well together and have good form.  He doesn’t care that they can row at 28 strokes per minute, or that they have a lot of power to them.  He just wants them to row together and be able to balance the boat.  Very important skills.  Excellent for novices and beginners.

The problem has arisen that other coaches are reshaping his groups and making him change his techniques.  This has set him on edge.  The other hiccup is the problem of launches available to coaches.  I believe 3 out of 6 are working right now and on the days he coaches novices need 2, open needs 2 and whoever else needs 1 or 2.   That would be at least 4, and there are only 3.  It’s rather ugly business, but I think my dad’s coaching days are numbered.  He’s getting more and more peeved.

I feel bad for him.  This is something he truly loves to do.  With BRC he is finally communicating with the Head Coach and his fellow novice coach.  If only NDP’s coaching would work out the same way.  High school coaching is an ugly business to begin with, I just wish people would listen to everyone’s ideas before jerking around the poor freshmen halfway through their rowing season.  *sigh*

Hilarity ensues

Last night Grant and I watched Kiss, Kiss, Bang, Bang and Real Genius.   Hilarious.  I highly recommend them to anyone with any sense of humor and an appreciation that Val Kilmer can look right pretty sometimes.

Humans *eye roll*

I’m getting sick of reading about timber production stands and species biodiversity within them.  On Hawaii landowners are afraid the US government will start to support them, change a law, and come back to sue them for using the land for something “they weren’t supposed to,” or for “taking down a natural stand of trees.”  From what I’ve read the US government is all show and no action on this.  Oh, we’ll help you 50% of the way, and then when demand turns out to be more than they expected the government says, “Uh, sorry?”

Europe, on the other hand, is currently all gung ho about forest conservation and blah blah blah.  Save the species, but still make money, keep it green, keep it clean.  Uh… huh…  A few hundred years back things weren’t so pretty over here in Europe and forests were decimated right and left.  So glad to see you’ve come around Europe, right now it’s the US’s turn to realise they’ve been jerks and it’s time to just grow up and start saving the trees.  And no, our lovely little government doesn’t really help.  States with a lot of money and a very ‘green’ attitude DO tend to help.  Fancy that.

Also, I would like to very clearly state that humans are humans and always will be and were HUMAN.  I have hit a wall of hearing from some source or another that the Native Americans/Indians were huge conservationists.  They worshipped the land, they prayed to their gods, they killed thousands of buffalo to the point they nearly went extinct.  Yes, our precious Indians nearly brought those huge lumbering bulks of bison to extinction.  Those big dark lumps you see at Yellowstone National Park in the middle the snow that have very hard heads. . .  THOSE.  I won’t get into the other species they whacked off at alarming rates.

Cultures around the world are decimating populations of animals and flora.  Some are “civilised” i.e. industrialised, others are not.  Just suck it up and understand that humans like to kill things.  Go read up on our lovely civilised fishing industry around the world.  I love my Scandinavian heritage, but them Norwegians need to cut back on the whales and big feeeeshies!

Sometimes it’s very hard to study conservation biology.  And it’s only going to get harder.

Uh, he’s a polar bear. . .

Grant had marked a blog entry in his google reader.

It explains how Knut (the once cute Polar Bear cub at the Berlin Zoo who is now a sub-adult) fished out 10 carp from the water in his enclosure and killed them and played about with their remains.  Apparently this has pissed off all kinds of people.  It’s in the BBC, Die Welt, Frankfurter Allgemeine Zeitung and a few others too.

Last time I checked, this Knut was a Polar Bear.  And Polar Bears, like humans, are prone to “killing for the enjoyment of killing.”  They also attack just about anything (submarines anyone?).  I really wish people would understand that he is not a cute wittle teddy bear to curl up with at night.  He’s a carnivore that will attack first then ask questions if it wasn’t something edible.

Even your household cat will eat birds, squirrles, mice, etc if it feels like it.  Dogs will go out and kill cats or whatever sometimes too. This is not something “gross” and “should be stopped.” It’s called “natural.”  Yeesh.  Let’s all take a field trip down to the meat packing industry and have a look at what we do to animals so we can eat them.

Distracted

A few days ago my grandfather underwent surgery for a subdural hematoma blood clot on his brain.  Apparently he hit his head in the garage between 2 weeks and a month ago and formed said clot.  My mom, her sister and youngest brother are there with my grandma.  I stayed up until about 4:30 a.m. waiting for news about his surgery the other night.  I haven’t heard ANYTHING else since they came back with “he came out of his anaesthesia just fine.”

Needless to say, I’m concerned.  The lack of information is understandable, everyone is flitting about between the house and the hospital and well, my mom isn’t exactly good at keeping me posted on things even when I am in the same country.  I will probably try to call her tomorrow after I get another calling card, or I change my SIM card to one with international stuff.  7p/min to call home isn’t TOO awful.  *sigh*

I want to be able to go home in September and see my grandpa alive and well telling stories and saying, “I savvy.”  He’s got some great stories and a wonderful sense of humor.  I hope my mom stays in Montana as long as she can for this, her family needs her right now.  Springfest will have to be function without her.

I’m hoping I can get a lot done today.  Homework is nothing short of evil.

And WHY is it snowing?!?!?!?!

Freakish weather. . .

RIP “Moses”

Charlton Heston died at 84.

I really thought he would live forever.  He seemed like the indestructible guy.  I’m sorry to hear Alzheimer’s got him in the end.

Who is still alive who was in The Ten Commandments?  I could IMDB it, but I’d rather just leave the question standing.

A welcome back

Yesterday was stunning, springlike and overall enjoyable (except for the whole feeling tired and unable to focus on things).  Grant and I wandered around the city centre (i.e. I grabbed lunch at Gregs and then we sat at Grey’s Monument).  At first we saw normal shoes, then as if on cue, the Uggs began.  We have a theory that Newcastle has a rather disproportionately high number of Ugg-wearers.  In the space of about 5 minutes you will see at least 10 women/girls wearing those things.

And yes, we both think they are rather pointless shoes.  Anyone who knows own them, please explain what makes them so great.  Especially if you are one of those who wear them and doesn’t actually have your foot places over the sole of the shoe, instead you’re sort of walking on the side of your boot, or over the heel, or in some way that the Ugg looks way too big for you (or too small).

I’m so tempted to make up that survey on Uggs. . . .