pyat: (Default)
pyat ([personal profile] pyat) wrote2001-09-09 07:40 pm
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A day of rest?

Another relatively full day.

I dragged myself out of bed at 9 AM, and Erin and I headed up the mountain to pick up her sister and her boyfriend. I drove them over to the corps for church, and headed out into Caledonia. The local Terry Fox Run organizers had managed to snag the late Terry’s brother, Darrell Fox, for a speaking engagement, and for some reason the press conference was on a Sunday morning. Very, very annoying. Not only did I miss church, but I had to go into the office on a Sunday, which is something that I frankly resent.

I got to the Grand Trunk Station museum where the event was being held, and stuck on a name tag. Exchanged pleasantries with the usual suspects - community group leaders, folks from the chamber of commerce, and other reporters. Oddly, the Sachem didn’t seem to have sent a representative. Not sure if they missed the event, or whether the editor had arranged with one of his chamber of commerce friends to submit a pic. I hope the former - it would be a minor scoop. The Sachem editor is always boasting that his paper has the best coverage in Haldimand for the Caledonia area - this event took place about a block from his office, and if he missed it, well, it’s a small black mark.

The mayor and councilor Ashbaugh arrived the same time I did, and I was able to corner the both of them to ask them about the wetlands clearing. That retired councilor had called them both, it seems. Mayor Bergstrand lives in Dunnville, and was, off the record, rather annoyed. Councilor Ashbaugh was also more than a little peeved. They both seemed genuinely upset, not just providing platitudes for a reporter.

However, there appears to be no legal recourse for the county. The bylaws from the old municipalities have yet to be harmonized across the county, and Dunnville apparently had no wetland regulations beyond the provincial laws. The old town of Haldimand had some pretty stringent wetland regulations, to an extent that often frustrates farmers. Bergstrand said she had called the Ministry of Natural Resources about the issue.

At this point, I was informed that Darrell Fox would not be speaking until 12:30, which didn’t fit in with my schedule. I managed to get a quick interview with him, and was fairly impressed. His late brother Terry Fox, if you didn’t know, was the British Columbia cancer victim who, in 1980 at the age of 21, decided to run across Canada to raise money for cancer research. He only had one leg. Darrell, who was 17 at the time, was with him along the route, following behind in a camper van. The effort started without fanfare and gathered huge international attention. Darrell followed his brother has the run started attracting huge rallies and hundreds of thousands in donations for cancer research. About a third of the way across the country, Terry’s cancer returned, and he died soon after. One of the most moving pictures I’ve seen is a candid black and white photo of Terry in obvious pain, limping through the rain on a remote and empty road in Northern Ontario.

Darrell is now the director of the Terry Fox Foundation, which runs in 55 countries. I was able to get some choice quotes from him in a quick interview in one corner. Kate Barlow, a reporter from the Hamilton Spectator, a big daily, joined in and we asked some fairly intelligent questions. Nice guy, very down to earth. During the interview, his 4 or 5 year old daughter kept grabbing his legs and hugging him.

I snagged some cookies from the refreshment stand and zipped back into town. Picked up Erin and crew at the church, and we went out to Swiss Chalet. My sister-in-law’s boyfriend, an easy-going and utterly vacant guy, had never been to church before, or to a Swiss Chalet for that matter. Not sure what I think of him. He’s a nice guy, but utterly rudderless. He recently informed us that he’d found a "dream job." He’s a clothes sorter at a charity store, at age 24. He has no high school diploma, doesn’t own a single book, has no license, and during the winter, I discovered he had no coat. He had money for one, but he wanted a Playstation instead. So he went the whole Canadian winter in sweaters. Swell. Erin’s sister Heather is eight years younger than he is. She’s quite bubbly, witty, and a cracking good writer - certainly much better than I was at that age. Hopefully, her boyfriend will shape up his life before they get serious. He’s a pleasant guy, and I’m not snobbish enough to think she could do better simply by dating someone with "ambition."

I was hoping to have the guys over for a cracking good RPG session tonight. That hopes seems to be in vain. Bill went to Toronto for the day, and Tim won’t make the trek down from Newmarket for a one on one game session. Ah well. A quiet night in front of the telly with Erin is by no means a 2nd prize.

My finches seem healthy today. Ladybird laid an egg. As soon as I put the eggshell in yesterday, she was down at the bottom of the cage, gorging. Obviously, she needs more calcium in her diet. She lays one egg every few months now, and they seem to be getting harder and harder to lay. I imagine she’s getting old. I’ve had her for nearly four years now, and I’ve no idea how old she was to begin with. Zebra finches have a wildly varying life expectancy - about five years is a goodly age for one, but they’ve been known to stick around for anything up to 20 years.

Anyway, with the egg laid, she seems much happier. Hopefully her tail feathers will come back in soon.

I’ve got to sit down and work something out for IronClaw. They asked me to do a fiction submission for an upcoming anthology... I’ve taken enough time off of writing. Time to get to work, I think.