All My Blogs

A self-portrait.  Kathryn is in the background. I have been a diabetic for quite a few years now.  As a child I was frequently tired; no one knew why.  It wasn't until I had a glucose tolerance test that a diagnosis of pre-diabetes was made.  At first, I just watched my diet and exercised.  Then I did both of those and had metformin added to the mix.  I had been on that particular medication for around ten years when things began to change. Two years ago in June we moved from Maple Ridge to Kelowna.  My a1c number had climbed above that magic "7" level where doctors start to worry.  The goal is to keep your a1c below 7; anything above is bad, and the higher it is the more problems you are likely to develop.  Diabetes is a nasty disease where, if untreated, you may face blindness, heart failure, stroke, kidney disease, limb amputation, nerve pain, and a host of other associated problems. My Maple Ridge doctor, whom I was still seeing via phone (thanks, Covid) and the occas

My dad was a navigator in the Canadian airforce and then worked in accounting later in the army.  We lived in Bordon, a military base in Ontario, where there is a considerable training area for military vehicles such as the modern Leopard II tanks.  There is also an astonishing tank park we used to go to as kids where we would crawl around the metal behemoths.  Little did I know the fire it would light in me later on in life. I have found myself drawn to WW II armour in the last few years.  Maybe it was my time with the beasts found at my playground, or perhaps it was the movies that I used to watch with my dad.  Regardless of the source of my latent passion, I don't seem to be able to get enough of the subject.   I have been spending a lot of time lately watching Youtube videos on WW II tanks, self-propelled guns, and tank destroyers and I have to admit that I just love it.  The fact that these machines are now around 80 years old and have been involved in the destruction of so ma

We have had dachshunds going on for 24 years now.  Having one, two, or three at the same time.  All of them, except for Muprhy, have passed into history, each one taking a piece of our collective hearts with them.   Murphy is now four years old.  He has got another 10 years in him, hopefully, and we have toyed with the idea of getting another one.  The problem, of course, is that dogs don't fit well into the lives of people interested in travelling.  We have flown with him, you can get a time-share or motel room in some cases for an extra fee (at $20/night, the costs add up), and then there is the need for frequent stops while driving long distances. Yet all of these things, inconveniences really, pale at what is achieved long term.  These are some of the benefits: I go for walks with him daily.  In fact, he reminds me that something needs to happen around four o'clock in the afternoon (he gets fed upon our return - that may have something to do with it).   Who needs a doorbell

If there ever was a dog that was born to dig, it was Rookie.  She could excavate a three-foot-long trench in very little time.  Digging was also a remarkable cure for long nails; she could easily shorten her nails by half their length when engaged in a project.  If something got in her way while removing the substrate, she would employ her second tool.  Teeth. Roots were a common problem while making her way through whatever surface material she was working through.  Those she could bite through easily.  It was the rocks that gave her trouble.  She would excavate around them, beneath them, and all the while attempt to attach her jaws to the offending obstruction.  Any rock that she strove to remove would inevitably be covered with saliva as she continued the incessant digging. The problem with using her mouth to remove uncooperative overburden was that she often swallowed some of it.  She became quite ill after one stint and we had to take her to a vet.  The X-rays showed a copious amo

Smudge was doxie number three.  Since mom and Leanne both had one, Josh felt that it was his time to also acquire a 4-legged wiener.  Now, this came about totally accidentally, as we were not actually looking for one. While camping one summer down in Washington, we were out for a drive exploring the area.  As we came around a corner we saw what could only be providence; a "Puppies for sale" sign.  Dachshund puppies.  If only you could hear the "Oohs" and "Aahs" at the sign, an omen really, you too would be compelled to turn into the indicated driveway.  And once there, the children and wife burst forth from the car as if the Hoover Dam had just been demolished. There, in front of the throng, was the most glorious collection of puppies and adult doxies you have ever seen.  Needless to say, the love was almost palpable, and it wasn't long before my son wanted to buy his very own puppy.  The problem was, he didn't have the money for it.  He could have

Photographs with Leanne's dog, Marble. We got our first dachshund, Kiesha, when the kids were five and seven years old.  My daughter, Leanne, decided she wanted a dog of her own, and saved vehemently until she could buy one.  The family that sold us Kiesha had another litter, and Leanne was the first one there to make a choice.  She picked a pretty dappled dog and we appropriately named him Marble. Leanne had quite a lot of fun with him.  He was driven to chase toys and balls of all sorts and sizes.  She would sit on the wooden floor with one hand holding his collar and the other hand embracing a toy just out of reach.  His attempts to obtain said item resulted in her spinning around in circles as he padded his way toward it.  Think donkey in a mill works with a harness and a carrot just out of reach. Marble's greatest legacy was his love of food.  Someone had left a half-eaten sandwich wrapped in cellophane on the stairs.  It wasn't there for long.  He grabbed it and scoff

Keisha, our first dachshund, loved boating with us. We introduced Keisha to boating when she was still a puppy.  Her place was at the front of the boat, preferably on the deck of whatever canoe or kayak she was on.  Her balance was amazing; no matter the waves or rocking motion of the craft, she proudly became the vessel's figurehead. If, for whatever reason, she was left ashore with a family member while another plied the waters nearby, she would let her displeasure be known to all within earshot.  Unconsolable, her boisterous vocalizations would go on until the paddler returned to include her in whatever adventure was about to happen.   Although she liked to be on the water, she did not care to be in it.  We all tended to share that point of view.  Although she would paddle with any family member, she preferred to be with my wife, Kathryn, to whom she was closest.  She would even give up her post as lead dog to sit inside the kayak's cockpit with her.   My favourite memory

Eric, Kathryn, Joshua, and Leanne at Disneyland ~2003 Have you ever been to Disneyland, or some other remarkable destination, as a child, but don't remember it?  This is not an uncommon experience.  Memories from our youth are often fleeting with images that seem barely formed and are very short of specifics.  The minutia of each day dissolves into the blur of the past and, for what was once an amazing time, becomes little more than a haze.   Why bother? After the expense, fatigue, and conflicts that are bound to occur, what are you left with other than memories that will eventually disappear and maybe one tall green cup and straw.  Even that will fade away as some garage sale or recycling bin claims the prize and removes another link to a forgotten time.  Was all of that worth it? My thoughts go to a piece of furniture, perhaps a familiar couch that had bends in all the right places.  For years it was the destination of a tired body where its soft contours and gentle support would

 The image above is the table of contents for my latest book.  I have two chapters dedicated to taking photos using Android or iOS cell phones.  It has taken me a little over two weeks to put this together. There are 38 pages with over 40 images and up-to-date info on smartphone cameras.  I did my final pass yesterday and today finalized the table of contents. I have, theoretically, a class starting next month on cell phone photography, for which this will be the learning guide.  I just hope it runs and is not cancelled like the last course.  For that one, I revised my 2014 book on Introduction to Digital Photography, but geared it towards DSLRs and modern mirrorless cameras.  I only had 2 people sign up for that and so it was cancelled. Even so, I learned a lot by putting both books together, as I always do, and enjoyed the process (with the occasional moment of insanity mixed in for good measure).  Formatting the work seems to be the hardest part as it takes way too much finessing to

Kathryn's quilting; showing love with her hands. I have never had a migraine, but I understand how debilitating it can be.  Day in and day out, the pain my wife experiences must be exasperating.  On good days, she will get some quilting done.  She feels guilty about not contributing around the house more, but she has only enough energy to do a quiet activity before fatigue overcomes her.  Quilting is something she can do that gives her purpose and is a way to show love to those close to her. Kathryn has always enjoyed making pretty things with her hands.  Needlework, cross stitch, working with a scroll saw, knitting, sewing, beading, the list is endless.  These have been some of the many crafts she has embraced in the 35 years of marriage.  They have all gone by the wayside; now she only has quilting. We both have a job to do.  Mine is to keep the place running.  My goal is to encourage her to spend time quilting.  If her limited amount of energy can be put into creating a quilt fo

Top:  photo taken with cell phone with (left) and without (right) flash.   Bottom:  photo take with DSLR camera with (left) and without (right) external flash. Your smartphone comes with a built-in flash which, seems awesome until you actually use it.  Suddenly, you are left to wonder if it is even going off because there seemed to be no impact on the shot.  If there was, it was totally anemic, working something like a flashlight with batteries that were seconds away from absolute death. That experience is not uncommon.  It turns out that cell phone flashes are totally different from those on DSLR, mirrorless, and compact cameras.  Those flashes use glass tubes filled with xenon gas and have a highly charged capacitor to blast thousands of volts through the gas.  The resulting plasma releases a tremendous amount of nicely coloured light that is bright enough to do the job.  If you need more power, you simply put an external unit on. Cell phones use LED technology.  Although bright, the