The end of summer in so many ways and a last long weekend before we return to all of the normal work and school activities that cause us to run around like hamsters on a wheel.

Labour Day was much more meaningful for my father’s generation . This hamster has had a relatively soft life and although I worked at lumber mills and brick plants during my university years, after graduation work has had little physical aspect, although I once got a nasty blister from holding a pen. Quite simply, I have enjoyed privilege, and I am indebted to the generation that preceded me.

My fathers generation, born before the depression, had a very different view of Labour Day. After riding box cars during the depression working throughout western Canada wherever he could, he got a job in the early 40s as a nickel miner in Levack Ontario, where he laboured underground for 30 years.

When my father started his mining career, the wages were pitiful . The mine was 3000 feet deep (over 1 km). Each day my father would appear early in the morning get into a huge cage with several other workers and be lowered a couple thousand feet into the bowels of the earth. There he would drill blast and shovel. When he returned to surface, he was blackened with dirt, which would be resolved by being part of a huge gang shower, and he would come home clean, except what he brought home in his lungs. The next day he would return, put on the same dirty clothes, and be lowered into the earth again.

During that time, my father’s working conditions improved drastically. Not from the kindness of his multinational employer, but rather from the hard work, and occasional strike by his union.

The rate of mining accidents and deaths was very high in the 1950s. My father’s job was a difficult, dirty, and damaging (to his hearing) life. But he was a very hard worker, and often was the highest bonus earner of the hundreds of workers in that mine.

My fathers privilege was to work hard under difficult dirty circumstances, and risk his life every day at work, at the same time as being part of the union to improve those conditions for future workers. You can imagine that my fathers employment contributed heavily to his political views.

And that is labour. And that is why I know that Labour Day is more than a simple stat. It is to celebrate those that have worked and built our society, and those that have worked to establish the rights and wages that we have today. My fathers hard life funded my soft life. Oops, I think I’m getting a blister from my keyboard.

​Most families have traditions of being together for the major holidays. Yesterday our family assembled under one roof in Harrison to apparently celebrate International Dog Day.

Our daughter Lauren has spent the summer working at various one week postings coordinating day camps at various United Churches including in Whitehorse Yukon. Weekends of late she has spent at her new independant residence in Abbotsford. Last night was somewhat of an abberation for us to be all together. The photo below shows Lauren’s reunion with Griffin, one of our two dogs celebrating International Dog Day. Lauren may be Griffin’s favourite person. The photo is posted with her paid consent.

She leaves today. Adam leaves today as part of his trip to Whistler, a planned trip that was cancelled for Pam and myself because of Andrews summertime injury.

Andrew plans that he and his mother will return on Tuesday to Abbotsford to shorten the three times per week trip to Vancouver General Hospital for ongoing treatment of his injury. People may recall that that in July, I posted of a household accident that almost took his life or his arm and left part of our house looking like an abbatoir. His arm is slowly healing and his hand function is slowly recovering. We hope for a full recovery but he has months of healing and rehab ahead of him. His attitude is fantastic.
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Some will return for the Labour day weekend, but as of Wednesday our family will be split in four different locations. Such is the modern family.

Today is a potentially momentous day for our family as it is the day that Lauren will sleep her first night in the house that she will share with two roommates for the duration of her UFV attendance. In order to facilitate our little bird leaving our Abbotsford nest, my wife, Pam, and I headed off to Abbotsford from Harrison Hot Springs this morning to assist her in moving her bed and some other items to her new abode. In typical Palmer fashion we both went in our own vehicles. I have posted before about our mutual discomfort with each other’s driving.

The plan was to put a trailer on the back of Pam‘s van and move the items over in the trailer. I have mentioned before that I am a bit of a vehicle hoarder and that we have six vehicles spread between the houses in Abbotsford and Harrison. Our two biggest vehicles have been sitting on the Abbotsford driveway because of their propensity to consume vast quantities of gasoline. Those are the vehicles, however, best suited to pull trailers and move beds and other items.

When I arrived this morning, Pam was standing with Lauren beside Pam’s van, and I could only see the look of disgust as they discovered mouse faeces throughout Pam’s van. Pam then spent the next significant period of time cleaning and vacuuming her van. Lauren was not prepared to go into the van once the mouse droppings were discovered. I made a dismissive comment to Lauren, which was intentionally not audible to Pam, about the consequences of leaving food in a vehicle. My courage in expressing my opinions in such matters is legendary. But then Karma intervened.

Lauren and I then decided to put the items into my Lincoln with its backseat down and the mattress put in through the back hatch. We then loaded the back of the car, and when we were ready to head off to our destination Lauren noticed mouse feces on the passenger seat in the Lincoln. A fast vacuuming, and my reassurance that any mouse would only have been in the Lincoln for a short time resulted in her acceding to getting into the car to drive the contents to her new residence.

Unfortunately as we unloaded the car, we discovered a lot of mouse feces in the car. Lauren found this revolting, particularly that her items had been on it. I was surprised at her reaction and her reaction to my suggestion to just ignore the mice droppings. Actually if she is in fact really going to run the world someday she is going to have to learn to deal with mouse droppings, spiders, etc, in a different manner. I’m sure she will now be cleaning her mattress and all of the contents ( formerly said “continents” in error) that were carried over with great vigour.

A conversation about whether or not a dining room table of her deceased grandmother that was now in storage might be appropriate in her new residence caused us to visit one of the units in which we store items in downtown Abbotsford. As she looked through the items to see what might be useful in her new residence she found…….. well, you can guess. Mice are apparently everywhere this summer.
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I wish my little bird well in her new residence and I expect she will enjoy her first night of total independance. Unless of course she finds a mouse……

Pam and I are on the road. We have left all of our cares behind us. Actually it is our children we have left behind. For the first time ever.

As we head up to the apartment in Whistler we have left our children behind in the Fraser Valley. Not an epic odyssey to compete with Homer, but a childless trip none the less. With our children being 12, 15, 17 and 18 it’s not like we are leaving infants that will be snapped up by a child apprehension officer. No chance of that. The government refused to grab them when they were younger no matter how many times we reported ourselves.

Quite simply we are cautious parents. That’s not the same as good parents. We have always worried about them being on their own. So when they have split between Abbotsford and Harrison so have we. Only this week end the family will be split between Whistler, Harrison and Abbotsford.

The reason for this odyssey? Cycling. Pam and I are taking our bikes to Whistler like young athletes do with their expensive sports bikes. We are going with our electric bikes. Admittedly not so athletic although it does take a strong manly thumb to push the throttle of an e-bike. Any way it’s a start.

Several questions come to mind:

• Will the kids manage without us?
• Will we enjoy the biking or have we left it too late in life and we should have brought up electric scooters?
• Will this be the beginning of several getaway weekends?
• Will our marriage survive the two days alone together?

For the answer to these and other such burning questions tune in to future Facebook posts.

A Journal of the Covid 19 year. I have just returned from one of my many daily walks along the the lakeside street of Harrison Hot Springs. It is so surreal to walk along the lake and by empty closed businesses that you usually see bustling with visitors this time of year.
Perhaps because tomorrow would have been my 65th birthday if I had not decided to cancel and delay it for five years because of the virus, or perhaps because of the much greater time that we are all spending in our homes now, I find myself much more reflective and thinking about growing up in Levack, Ontario, a town of 3,100  just a little bigger than Harrison Hot Springs). I hope that being reflective of your past is not a sign of impending death. In any event, my walks today remind me of every Sunday in the small town that I grew up in . At that time there was a provincial statute in Ontario requiring Sunday closure. Although I always recognized the problem with imposing a day of rest based on on one faith on citizens of many faiths and often no faith, I did lament the change in the law allowing Sunday openings. Sunday closures created a day when family members would generally be together, rather than individually racing around to jobs and other commitments like all of the other days of the week.
The Covid 19 virus shutdown of most businesses has created that situation every day of the week and reminded me of the closed Sundays of my youth. Don’t misunderstand, I like shopping and being busy on Sundays. The extra day of work has probably improved our collective material wealth. I am a much wealthier consumer because of it. And yet if there is one positive result of this gloomy virus pandemic, it is the forced creation of time for family and reflection. Maybe one day per week of that wouldn’t be so bad.

I promise this is my last doting Daddy post. While I lament social distancing (unbeknownst to me I really like being around people) and lament that my major isolation time project is slowly and pitifully marking my UFV final exams (I now am officially late in turning in marks), my daughter Lauren is making the best of the family isolation, with the positive attitude that I aspire to have.

​Lauren Palmer
April 30 at 7:07 PMI passed some time yesterday drawing this. I’ve found that this is a great time to work on developing different skills and interests. I’ve started drawing, practicing calligraphy and hand lettering, learning new dance/acro skills, hiking, relearning how to play the piano, learning ASL, and much more. I hope to come out of self isolation with all sorts of new skills and hobbies that I otherwise wouldn’t have had time to learn. I hope everyone is staying safe and healthy during this time.

A Journal of the Covid 19 Year.
​This is an unprecedented time when we are confronted with so many events and changes that are occurring that we have never experienced before in our lifetimes. Sometimes it is the most insignificant of matters that come to our attention and linger in our consciousness. Like haircuts.
On Thursday my fourteen year old daughter Lauren cut the hair of her mother, her sister Jordan, and her brother Adam. She also gave her own hair a trim. Although her brother Andrew is not an intended subject it appears that I am expected to undergo the procedure this weekend as well. I should note that the haircuts she has done are excellent.
Anyone who knows our family dynamics is aware that Lauren can do anything. Truthfully. She is a rare combination of her mother’s intelligence and competence and a high level of confidence. The confidence comes from a unique level of confidence builders including her family, the members of her church and a series of extremely supportive teachers. She has always been told that she can do anything and as a result, she can. I love all of my children equally and immensely, but they are all different and everyone in our family buys into what I call “ the myth of Lauren”. Everyone depends on Lauren, with no jealousy from her siblings, and she has been given opportunities and responsibilities well beyond what one would expect for her age. She is instrumental in helping me teach my five UFV courses online (made necessary by the virus) . I sometimes worry that we put too much pressure on her but she looks forward to every challenge and looks for the next envelope to open. In any event, like any doting parent, I easily digress when writing about my children.
Did I mention she is going to cut my hair this week end? This is a meaningful event to me. In my entire life my hair has been cut only by professional barbers. Even as a small child I was sent to a barbershop by my parents. I had one barber until I graduated high school. Then the late Brian Ross in Abbotsford for almost thirty years. Then Karl in Abbotsford until he died. Then...... well you get the point. My barbers have been probably the most long lasting relationships in my life. Wow, that’s a sad self reflection.
Admittedly cutting my hair has become a less time consuming job. But nonetheless, one more first will occur to me this weekend. Am I concerned? No. I know she will do a great job. And after all, I am all about looks and appearance.
Who knows, maybe I’ll make my new haircut my new profile photo.

My wife Pam and I in an effort to do more things together than just parent have of late been trying to schedule going out to a movie theatre every second weekend. That and restaurant suppers with friends comprises our joint social lives. The problem, however, is finding a good movie to watch.
We have approached several films with open minds and been disappointed. We avoid extreme violence and superhero movies, which together seem to represent two thirds of the available movies.
Although I have no designs on becoming a Facebook movie critic, I did want to extol the virtues of the film we saw last night. Up to last night I felt that “A Beautiful Day in The Neighbourhood” about Fred Rogers was the best movie I had seen this year. The film we saw last night was the British movie “1917”. It was impactful.
Firstly it was a great film. Like most British movies, it’s lead characters were actors, not Hollywood celebrities, and they skillfully caused me to feel great empathy and concern for them. The movie held a tension throughout, and I was startled several times throughout the movie, causing me to mildly jump in my seat. In a manly way of course. I generally prefer not to be startled at this age lest it cause a release of bodily fluids.
Secondly, the film was impactful. It’s graphic portrayal of the battlefield, dead lands, and abandoned bodies provided me with a reminder of the misery of war in general and the First World War particularly. The identification that the actors achieved with me caused me to think how I would not have survived that food, those trenches, crawling over bodies, and how would I have managed to shower twice per day. I did think of relatives who died as young men in 1917 in Europe. What misery.
I do not like the glorification of violence or war. This film did neither. The film deserves the Academy award, but more importantly we should all see it to remind ourselves of the misery, desperation, and pointlessness of war. See it. Invite a world leader to go with you. Enjoy the beauty of your day!

One New Year’s resolution out if the way. After about sixteen years since the last time I went downhill skiing, I went with my wife and two daughters to Manning ski resort today (my sons staying at home to exercise their fingers on electronic games). Pam had purchased me new skis and ski boots. It was exhilarating and no falls and no bone breaks! There were immense amounts of new snow.
My sixty some year old body can still ski and my heart can still handle the thrill of skiing faster than my abilities. This will be the first of many.
One small issue arose however. Just before I stopped skiing when we started to pop out kids left and right I purchased myself a new expensive ski suit - a one piece that stopped snow from getting down my back. I wore my twenty year old like new suit today only to have three different episodes in the ski lift line ups where people (usually young) yelled out that I was wearing a “onesie”. Apparently no one else does now. Disco was mentioned.
Those of you who know me well know that I am all about appearance and fashion. I was devastated. Even I noticed that my onesie seemed to have a slight bell bottom flair at the bottom. Looks I’ll be heading back to MountainEquipment Coop one more time. I seem to be spending a lot of money just to eventually break a hip.
On a serious note, it was a joy to ski with Pam again and my daughters for a first time.
Good luck on accomplishing your own 2020 resolutions